Baking on Wednesday - potlikker and cornbread
The inspiration for this post popped up out of nowhere this week. It's the week sickness finally visited my household. My husband and younger son both got a stomach bug at the same time. Both missed work/school and were feeling poorly.
Because I had recently posted my excursus on cornbread, the stars were aligned... I needed to make a pot of greens so that I could serve them "potlikker."
What is potlikker, you ask? Well, if you aren't from the South, you might not know. And many Southerners might not know either.
Potlikker is the colloquial term for "pot liquor." In its simplest form, it's the broth that comes from greens, be they collard, turnip or mustard, which have been simmered for hours with some pork.
Just like cornbread before it, much has been written about potlikker. It was originally the province of the poor. If greens were being cooked for the house, the slaves knew they could take the potlikker, since it was useless to the white family, after it boiled the vegetables. It would help feed their families due to its dense, nutrient-rich broth.
One of my favorite articles comes from the Atlantic. Journalist Ari Weinzweig delved into potlikker's back story and interviews the dish's foremost apostle, John T. Edge.
The article brought back many memories for me. It mentions that true Southerners always refer to a unit of greens as "a mess." I never knew exactly how much a mess was but my impression was always that it was big enough to fit into a paper Kroger sack and still fold closed.
The catalyst for all this, though, was the illness under my roof. When I was a child and was home with a stomach bug or flu, Mother always boiled up a mess of greens for the potlikker. She would then bring it to me in a teacup and saucer, usually Limoges, inherited from her mother-in-law. There is something so nurturing about sipping that healing "tea."
As I got to feeling better during those illnesses back in the 70's and 80's, she would transition the delivery method for the potlikker: she made a pone of cornbread and poured it over the top of a crumbled heap of cornbread.
Does it heal? Mother sure did think so and I certainly believe. It has an almost mythic position in my memory. In the Atlantic article, John T. states "potlikker is more than the sum of the juices at the bottom of a pot of greens. It may be one of the more plebeian of Southern culinary creations, but never let it be said that potlikker is without import. Enshrined early in the pantheon of Southern folk belief, potlikker was prescribed by doctors and conjurers alike for ailments as varied as the croup and colic, rabies and fatigue. Though claims of its curative qualities may be farfetched, potlikker is indeed packed with nutrients, for, during the cooking process, vitamins and minerals leech out of the greens, leaving the collards, turnips, or mustards comparatively bereft of nutrients while the vitamins A, B, and C as well as potassium suffuse the potlikker."
So I did what my mother did for me and her mother did ahead of her and so on... I boiled a mess of greens for a sick loved one. (I'm sure you can see by the photo that I didn't have "a mess" of greens. Mine came from a bag from Kroger. I'd never bought them that way but that was all they had. I was happy to have them, though, regardless of form.) Husband and son first sipped the potlikker several times over the course of the day until evening... when I made the pone of cornbread. Crumbled and topped with more potlikker, it's just medicine.
Because I had recently posted my excursus on cornbread, the stars were aligned... I needed to make a pot of greens so that I could serve them "potlikker."
What is potlikker, you ask? Well, if you aren't from the South, you might not know. And many Southerners might not know either.
Potlikker is the colloquial term for "pot liquor." In its simplest form, it's the broth that comes from greens, be they collard, turnip or mustard, which have been simmered for hours with some pork.
Just like cornbread before it, much has been written about potlikker. It was originally the province of the poor. If greens were being cooked for the house, the slaves knew they could take the potlikker, since it was useless to the white family, after it boiled the vegetables. It would help feed their families due to its dense, nutrient-rich broth.
One of my favorite articles comes from the Atlantic. Journalist Ari Weinzweig delved into potlikker's back story and interviews the dish's foremost apostle, John T. Edge.
The article brought back many memories for me. It mentions that true Southerners always refer to a unit of greens as "a mess." I never knew exactly how much a mess was but my impression was always that it was big enough to fit into a paper Kroger sack and still fold closed.
The catalyst for all this, though, was the illness under my roof. When I was a child and was home with a stomach bug or flu, Mother always boiled up a mess of greens for the potlikker. She would then bring it to me in a teacup and saucer, usually Limoges, inherited from her mother-in-law. There is something so nurturing about sipping that healing "tea."
As I got to feeling better during those illnesses back in the 70's and 80's, she would transition the delivery method for the potlikker: she made a pone of cornbread and poured it over the top of a crumbled heap of cornbread.
Does it heal? Mother sure did think so and I certainly believe. It has an almost mythic position in my memory. In the Atlantic article, John T. states "potlikker is more than the sum of the juices at the bottom of a pot of greens. It may be one of the more plebeian of Southern culinary creations, but never let it be said that potlikker is without import. Enshrined early in the pantheon of Southern folk belief, potlikker was prescribed by doctors and conjurers alike for ailments as varied as the croup and colic, rabies and fatigue. Though claims of its curative qualities may be farfetched, potlikker is indeed packed with nutrients, for, during the cooking process, vitamins and minerals leech out of the greens, leaving the collards, turnips, or mustards comparatively bereft of nutrients while the vitamins A, B, and C as well as potassium suffuse the potlikker."
So I did what my mother did for me and her mother did ahead of her and so on... I boiled a mess of greens for a sick loved one. (I'm sure you can see by the photo that I didn't have "a mess" of greens. Mine came from a bag from Kroger. I'd never bought them that way but that was all they had. I was happy to have them, though, regardless of form.) Husband and son first sipped the potlikker several times over the course of the day until evening... when I made the pone of cornbread. Crumbled and topped with more potlikker, it's just medicine.
So here's to hoping everyone is back where they belong tomorrow: at work and at school. I might take ill from all the cooking!
XoxoL
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