Mexicorn Grits — The Southern Table That Said “We Made It”

Last week of freshman year and the school had that end-of-year lightness that even the most serious academic environment cannot suppress. Grades were finalized. Teachers were wrapping up. The hallways had a quality of completion, of a chapter arriving at its last page. I moved through the week with a mix of satisfaction and that particular forward-looking restlessness that I have come to recognize as my natural state at transitions.

Final grades: all A's, one A-minus in Algebra II that I had already processed and accepted. The AP exam scores would come in July. I had done what I came here to do this year. More than that — I had found the people I wanted to do it with, the direction I wanted to go, and the version of myself that was emerging from the work. You cannot engineer that last part. You can only show up consistently and let it happen.

Ms. Whitaker pulled me aside on the last day and asked if I was planning to take AP English next year. I said yes. She said good, and that she was recommending me for the advanced portfolio track, which involved submitting writing to external competitions over the course of the year. I said I would do it. She said she knew I would. I have come to understand that when teachers say "I know you will" it is not a prediction but a form of encouragement shaped like certainty. I receive it the same way regardless.

For the end of school I made something celebratory and also deeply Louisianan: a full seafood boil, just for family. Crawfish and corn and potatoes and andouille, in MawMaw Shirley's spice mix, spread out on newspaper on the picnic table in the backyard. Daddy brought sweet tea. MawMaw came over and we ate until we couldn't and then sat in the backyard until the evening bugs came. Freshman year was done. I had done it well. The AP track awaited. The summer was mine.

The seafood boil was MawMaw Shirley’s domain, and honestly, that recipe goes nowhere near a written page — it lives in her hands. But the spirit of that backyard table, that feeling of corn and spice and family crowded together at the end of something good, is exactly what I think about when I make these Mexicorn Grits. It’s Southern through and through, it comes together fast, and it has that same quality the best celebration food always has: it tastes like someone made it with intention. When the moment calls for something warm and deeply rooted, this is what I reach for.

Mexicorn Grits

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 4 cups water
• 1 cup quick-cooking grits
• 1 can (11 oz) Mexicorn (whole kernel corn with red and green peppers), drained
• 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 green onions, sliced thin (for garnish)

Instructions

1. Boil the water. Bring 4 cups of water to a boil in a medium saucepan over high heat. Add 1/2 teaspoon of salt.
2. Cook the grits. Slowly whisk in the quick-cooking grits, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook stirring frequently for 5–7 minutes until thickened and creamy.
3. Build the flavor. Stir in the butter and milk until the butter is fully melted and incorporated. Add garlic powder, smoked paprika, and black pepper.
4. Add the corn and cheese. Fold in the drained Mexicorn and shredded cheddar cheese, stirring until the cheese is fully melted and the corn is evenly distributed throughout.
5. Finish with sour cream. Remove from heat and stir in the sour cream until the grits are smooth and velvety. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
6. Serve. Spoon into bowls or onto plates and top with sliced green onions. Serve immediately while hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg