Sunday Supper

Since it's been raining I've been craving Hoppin John. Don't ask me why, as there is no rhyme or reason to my cravings. (Maybe it is one of those comfort foods as it reminds me of the ham hocks and beans my mom use to make). I craved Pralines and Cream during the cold snap (on a nightly basis) and I wasn't the only person bundled up in 31 Flavors at 9:30 at night.

Hoppin John is an African-American Classic. And there are as many ways to prepare it as there are myths as to how it got it's name.

One myth is the custom of inviting a neighbor to eat by saying "hop in, John."
Another is an old ritual where the children hopped around the table. But my favorite is "a man came a hoppin when his wife prepared the dish."

And here's why. Today John came a hoppin in from the garage and couldn't wait for the cornbead to finish so he dished it from the pot and ate it standing up in the kitchen. NOTE: we have a table

Sometimes I make it with black-eyed peas, rice and spicey sausage.

Today I made it with black-eyed peas, rice, ham steak, (I couldn't find a ham hock) and shrimp. Seasoned with as much Cayenne pepper as I could tolerate, garlic salt, fresh garlic, onions and the rice is made with chicken broth in lieu of water.














With a side dish of corn bread (made with white corn meal) with creamed corn and cheese. I find the corn bread is always best when baked in a cast iron skillet and served with a dollop of butter. Because food should be cooked with lots of love and lots of butter. I do believe it's time for seconds.