Corn bread and Collar greens bring back childhood memories.
My momma in the kitchen cooking red beans, beef neck bones and rice.
There was a special corn bread pan that momma would use.
It looked like ears of corn and was as heavy as a cast iron skillet.
The greens were baptized until the water was clear.
The smell of corn bread and collar greens meant love is in the air.
A pressure cooker was my momma’s favorite pot for beans.
Baked yams or sweet potatoes were hot on the scene.
The fried chicken make you scream, Hallelujah.
I never knew hunger as a kid; my aunties and uncle always kept a family fed.
Corn bread and Collar greens bring back childhood memories.
The smell of corn bread and collar greens meant love is in the air.
Grandma stirring those cakes making that meringue from scratch.
Over a double boiler kept all her clients coming back.
Corn beard means stability no matter what else you have corn bread completed the meal;
You can tell my people from the south, put a little Arkansan and Mississippi in them collard greens,
The title brought me to the table…all my favorites are on the menu. Food means love! At least…it should. Great images evoked by this poem.
Sigh. Wish that menu was on my table tonight. Collard greens are my favorite. We put some Alabama in ours.