I think so anyway. I admit it’s hard to tell how much of my enamory (doesn’t spell-check, but it’s just the right word) with this meal is from good memories of similar meals from my childhood, and how much is from knowing it’s mainly local or that it’s nutritionally lovely.
My grandmother would have added a ham bone to the fresh black-eyed peas, and sometimes they would have been field peas instead – either way shelled by hand on the porch rocker. I can hear the plunk of the peas against the metal bowl. The corn muffins would have excluded rosemary and included a few extra eggs; I remember hers being very moist and spongy, and that she didn’t work from recipes. The home-grown tomatoes, like mine, would have been simply salt-and-peppered, the corn local and buttered. And, there was always meat served up with the veggies at my grandmothers: a slice of ham, a pork chop, or fried chicken.
Even with these variations, it smells and tastes like hot, summer childhood vacation in Lake City to me. Just right.
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