Grandmomma’s Woodstove Cornbread

When Grandmomma was cooking, even before you took the first bite, you knew you wanted seconds. Baked, boiled, or fried, the food on her table was bound to be the best.

She was a big, bowlegged lady, who filled her homemade apron as she flowed across the kitchen, from water bucket to table to woodstove. As we played in the fenced yard or old field, the sweet ’roma would flow out, hinting at the wonders she was fixin’ and mixin’ inside. We weren’t allowed in the kitchen, even to get a