Hot Water Cornbread a warm taste of home

A piece of trivia running around in my head, unleashed by a long-ago history class, deals with bread and status in colonial Latin America. Back then, the professor said, you could tell a man’s social standing by the crumbs on his shirt. White flour meant a higher status while yellow corn crumbs signified a lower rung on the ladder, as only the wealthy could afford wheat bread while poorer families made do with traditional corn tortillas.

Food is a powerful force. It can represent warmth and comfort, evoking memories of a favorite place or time. It can reflect heart-wrenching need. It is a sign of our times, our community and our values.

There are few places in this world where that is more true than in south Louisiana, where food is, quite literally, a way of life. I’ve never met a people as passionate and generous as your average south Louisianian. The question of what you had for dinner is nearly as important as where you are from, your lineage, and your line of work.

The amazing culture here, of which food is a huge part, is the reason my husband and I, both natives of the frozen parishes of north Louisiana, came south and the reason we will stay to raise our family.

Moving from The Advocate’s copy desk to the Food section gives me an opportunity (my father would probably rephrase that as an excuse) to explore this food nirvana more.

This is where you come in. Teach me your ways, O south Louisiana. Send me your traditions, your rituals, and, most of all, your recipes. In return, I promise to be a diligent and hungry student.

And, occasionally, to share a few recipes of my own.