Weeping Cornbread and Obama Sightings

I made the Obama Inauguration Cornbread and to be honest it was a “yes, we can” kind of recipe with a bit of a “no, we can’t” thing going on when it came to the taste test.

It’s hard to convince New Zealanders that cornbread is a top idea in the first place. It’s harder to make them believe in the dish on an evening when the temperature was up in the mid-20s, humidity and mosquitoes had that swamp thing going on and all you really felt like was something chilled … like beer, and maybe a crisp salad. But hey, Internet, I promised you I’d make the cornbread and make it I did.

It was simple to make, once I’d arrived beyond the point where I gagged like crazy when adding the buttermilk (it’s the plop-plop-plop of lumpy milky that gets me going). And I was pleased to be doing something useful with that can of Watties creamed corn that had once again made its way to the front of the pantry.

I have to be honest and tell you that after placing the skillet in the oven I prayed fervently that, when cooked, the cornbread would reveal in its top crust the image of President Barack Obama himself. At the least I was going to sell it on eBay, but at the most my little old oven with its Morris Minor 1000 switch arrangement, circa 1970, would become a place of pilgrimage for all the President’s supporters.

I’m thinking a lot about cornbread with an image that WEEPS WHEN YOU PLAY STEVIE WONDER ON THE STEREO.

I’m thinking about merchandise and fame. President Obama has many fans. Do the math! I’m a guest at the White House and I’m doing Oprah. 

You know what’s coming, don’t you?

I opened the oven. In fact, I opened it a couple of times during cooking and therein may lie the problem. But I was so sure there was a face happening on the top of that cornbread that I was doing jigs and reels alone in the kitchen until cooking time was up and I could officially open that oven door. I did, and then I closed it again.

There was a face on the top of the cornbread all right. But it was the image of Joseph Carey Merrick, the Englishman who became known as THE ELEPHANT MAN.

Deflated just doesn’t do justice to the way I was feeling when I had to confess to Mr Scott that 2009 wasn’t going to be the year I made us rich with Weeping Cornbread and Obama Sightings but we’re thinking of renaming the recipe Elephant Bread and using it for a zoo fundraiser.

The taste test, you ask? Pretend that my mother made you a scone and for some reason she not only chose to put creamed sweetcorn in it but she waited a day before giving it to you. It needs beer.