As cold temperatures settle in, and along with it cravings for comfort food, we can safely declare it chili season.
Some people spend years cultivating the perfect chili recipe, but I recycle the same one every time. In my kitchen, chili is just a vehicle for cornbread.
I grew up with the small blue-and-white box of Jiffy mix as a cornbread barometer. It was fine, but wasn't going to change the world. It wasn't until I started traveling and tasting more that I realized cornbread could be so much more — and, that when it comes to cornbread, people have strong opinions.
There are purists (no chile peppers or green onions), the adventurous (throw in everything and anything) and somewhere in between is the cautious (a little cheese might be OK). Some like it sweet, others think adding sugar is sacrilege.
That's something chef Kelly Fields, author of the fabulous "The Good Book of Southern Baking" and owner of Willa Jean's bakery and restaurant in New Orleans, knows all about.
"Some folks believe that cornbread is just cake if you add sugar to it," she said in her cookbook, which heralds the revival of biscuits, cake and cornbread. "Folks in the South are real serious about their position on this. I can tell you that I've debated it a hundred times over (and often with the same folks over and over again), and I will stand behind and defend my stance: I like a little sugar in my cornbread. But in truth, I believe there is room in this world for all the cornbreads."
And so in her book she offers a game plan for cornbread lovers of all stripes. Want a great cornbread recipe? Check. In the mood for something new? Try cornbread madeleines, fritters or bread pudding. Really, anything goes. And if you're not in the mood to bake at all? Fields offers more than a dozen ways to doctor up a box of Jiffy cornbread mix.
A humble beginning
If it seems Jiffy cornbread has been around for as long as you can remember, it's because it has. It first appeared on shelves in 1930 and, according to its website, was the first prepared mix sold to the public. Its purpose: to make a cheap, simple mix that would give cooks consistent results. Jiffy hasn't strayed from its original mission: A box still costs just 50 cents, and it turns out the same every time.