One day, my sister Anita called me in a panic. She was hosting friends for Thanksgiving dinner in her Park Avenue apartment in New York City. She had misplaced our grandmother’s recipe for corn pudding. In our family, any holiday feast is incomplete without “Mama’s Corn Pudding,” as my mother dubbed the recipe.
“Pour yourself a glass of Cabernet and calm down,” I told Anita. “No need to stress. I can text you the recipe.”
I sifted through the vegetable section of my recipe box No. 4 and found Mama’s Corn Pudding on a slightly stained 3-by-5 card with the remnant of a shriveled, flattened corn kernel stuck to the back of the card. The recipe was dutifully preserved in my mother’s handsome cursive writing.
I snapped a photo of the recipe, then texted it to my sister. She responded with instant gratitude, and I assume poured herself that glass of wine. My sister’s Thanksgiving dinner was now complete.
My siblings and I referred to our grandmother as “Next Mama,” following the lead of my older cousin. All the grandchildren and great-grandchildren used the same name for her, as did the kids in her Jacksonville, Florida, neighborhood. She was everyone’s Next Mama.
A small but mighty, white-haired woman with blue eyeglasses hanging on a chain around her neck and a defective hearing aid that made us all shout at her, she wore a perpetual apron that tied at the back and covered her entire dress to minimize the flour dust. Next Mama loved a good competition, be it cooking or otherwise, and was especially adept at the card game canasta. We never had to let her win, since she always accomplished it on her own.
My grandmother had a reputation for being a great cook. From her old-fashioned kitchen bearing walls that her grandchildren had painted red, she made sticky pralines, cloud white divinity, and fancy cookies and cakes of all varieties, creating an aroma that would attract all passersby.
Her white buttermilk cake recipe was selected in 1971 to appear in the “Jacksonville Sesquicentennial Cooks’ Book.” Everyone asked her to autograph their copy. Whenever I open that cookbook to the page with Next Mama’s recipe, I reread her handwritten note wishing me “many happy years” and think about how proud she was to have her cake recipe published. Yet it’s the corn pudding recipe that should have been included in the cookbook, and that’s the recipe that reminds me of Next Mama more than any other.
My Aunt Sara, 90, has shared many a story about my grandmother. During the Depression, in her native Olive Hill, Kentucky, her family struggled like so many.
“I didn’t realize how poor we were when I was a kid,” Sara said, explaining how her Aunt Ollie used to send her son to deliver vegetables each week to the family because they had no food.
Corn was always plentiful in the South, and corn pudding had few ingredients, so it was easy for Next Mama to shuck a few ears of corn and mix the scant ingredients to make a delicious dinner of corn pudding.
Wild berries were also plentiful in those days. While many people stood in long lines waiting for handouts, Next Mama crafted a pie with the wild blackberries that grew near the railroad tracks in town. Sara recalls having accompanied her mother to a pie social where Next Mama’s blackberry pie sold along with others to raise money for the local school.
“I never thought about being excluded from anything,” Sara said. “I had a lively life and friends. With a family that is nourishing, you feel rich.”
Next Mama ran a boarding house to help make ends meet and offered seamstress services to the well-to-do in town. She also prepared a daily plate of food to share with Old Joe, a local black man who had no home. When he stopped by the back door, Next Mama would always have a warm meal for him. Food was her way of helping others.
My grandmother’s corn pudding recipe dates as far back as I can remember in our family. The simple recipe was passed on to my mother, Miriam, and then to me. I shared it with my daughter Kate, who makes it for her family, too. I’m sure that someday my 6-year-old granddaughter, Zoe, will also bake a casserole of her great-great-grandmother’s corn pudding for her family. The recipe remains a staple on our Thanksgiving Day menu and is a reminder of how nourished and rich we feel to this day.
Mama’s Corn Pudding
Serves 8 to 10- 8 to 10 ears fresh corn, niblets cut and scraped off cobs
- 3 or 4 eggs
- 1 tablespoon flour
- 1 1/2 cups milk
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Butter for topping
Combine all ingredients. Put into 3-quart casserole and cover top with butter pats. Bake in preheated oven until solid. (My advice: Check after about 40 minutes.) Top with butter and serve. Bon appétit!
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