By Marcus and Angela closed on a house in Whitehaven this week — a three-bedroom brick ranch, a ten-minute drive from Mama's facility, with a backyard big enough for a smoker, which Marcus mentioned to me on the phone as if it were an incidental detail and which I received as the most important piece of real estate information I have ever heard. A backyard big enough for a smoker is a backyard big enough for a tradition, and a tradition needs soil, and this house is soil.
I drove to Whitehaven Saturday to see the house. It's solid — built in the '70s, good bones, the kind of house that working people buy and raise families in and die in, the kind of house that Daddy would have called "sufficient," which from Daddy was the highest praise. Angela had already started making it theirs: curtains in the kitchen, a plant on the porch, the sweet potato casserole dish drying on the rack.
Marcus showed me the backyard. It's flat, grassy, with a pecan tree in the corner that reminds me of Harold Foster's yard in Covington. I stood in the grass and imagined a smoker — not Uncle Clyde's, which stays on Deadrick Avenue until the day it or I stop functioning — but a new one, Marcus's own, the beginning of his own fire. I said, "Son, you need a smoker." He said, "I don't know how to smoke." I said, "That's why you need a smoker." He looked at me. I looked at the yard. The lesson was started: you don't learn by knowing. You learn by starting.
Marcus doesn’t have a smoker yet, and that’s all right — every fire starts somewhere smaller. Before Uncle Clyde ever touched a brisket, there was a pot on a stove and something simple inside it, and that’s the truth of how cooks are made. This Franks and Cornbread recipe is the one I thought of standing in that backyard under the pecan tree: it’s working food, the kind Daddy would have called sufficient, and it’s exactly right for a new kitchen in a brick ranch in Whitehaven that still smells like fresh curtains and possibility. You start here, son. You start here.
Franks and Cornbread
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 package (16 oz) beef frankfurters, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 1 medium green bell pepper, diced
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 1 cup yellow cornmeal
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 tablespoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup buttermilk
- 2 large eggs
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
- 2 tablespoons honey
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Grease an 8-inch square baking dish or cast-iron skillet and set aside.
- Make the cornbread batter. In a large bowl, whisk together cornmeal, flour, baking powder, and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk buttermilk, eggs, melted butter, and honey until combined. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir just until no dry streaks remain — do not overmix.
- Bake the cornbread. Pour batter into the prepared dish and bake 18–22 minutes, until golden on top and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let rest 5 minutes before cutting.
- Cook the franks. While cornbread bakes, heat vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and bell pepper and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add sliced frankfurters and cook another 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until edges are lightly browned.
- Build the sauce. Stir in diced tomatoes (with liquid), pinto beans, mustard, brown sugar, garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until sauce thickens slightly and flavors meld.
- Serve. Spoon the frank mixture over squares of warm cornbread or alongside them. Serve immediately while everything is hot.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 980mg