By Your Sassiest Southern Granny Who Bakes With Butter, Love, and a Whole Lotta Charm
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First, Let Me Tempt Your Tastebuds
Close your eyes and picture this, darlin’—a cast iron skillet straight from the oven, filled with a golden round of cornbread so beautiful it could win a county fair ribbon and a deacon’s heart. The top is gloriously crisp and golden-brown, flecked with bits of buttery crust that flake just so when you cut into it. The inside? Oh honey, it’s rich, moist, and just the right amount of sweet, with a tender crumb that holds together like a well-raised Southern lady in the face of gossip.
And floating through your kitchen is that unmistakable smell—cornmeal mingling with melted butter and just a whisper of toasted pecan nuttiness. It’s the scent of holidays, family reunions, and the kind of Sunday dinners where no one dares skip dessert.
This cornbread ain’t from a box, sugar—it’s a homemade hug, baked golden in a well-seasoned skillet that’s been passed down like a family secret.
A Recipe with Roots Deeper Than a Cypress Tree
This cornbread recipe has been in my family longer than Great-Aunt Marlene’s meatloaf feud with the Baptist bake sale committee. My Granny Pearl used to make it every Sunday after church, right alongside her collard greens and honey-glazed ham. She never measured a thing—just pinches and pours straight from memory, bless her heart. But before she passed, she finally jotted the recipe down for me on the back of a Kroger receipt with a lipstick kiss at the bottom. I’ve treasured it like the crown jewels ever since.
Let’s give a nod to Granny Pearl for teaching us that good cornbread starts with hot grease, real butter, and absolutely no shortcuts.
Step-by-Step: Granny Pearl’s Skillet Cornbread
Yields: 8 generous wedges
Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cook Time: 25 minutes
Total Time: Just enough to make the kitchen smell like heaven
Ingredients:
- 1 cup yellow cornmeal (stone-ground if you can swing it)
- 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
- 2 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 tbsp sugar (or more if you like it Yankee-sweet, but I won’t tell)
- 1 cup buttermilk (not milk—buttermilk, y’all!)
- 2 eggs
- 4 tbsp butter, melted (plus extra for greasin’ the skillet)
- 1 tbsp bacon grease or vegetable oil (for that sizzling skillet magic)
- Optional: 1/4 cup chopped toasted pecans for a holiday twist
Directions with a Dash of Sass
1. Preheat & Prep
Preheat your oven to 425°F. (Because a lukewarm oven never raised a good bread, bless it.) While that’s heatin’ up, pop your cast iron skillet in the oven with a tablespoon of bacon grease or oil. We want that skillet screamin’ hot like a firecracker on the Fourth of July.
2. Mix the Dry Stuff
In a big ol’ bowl, whisk together cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar. Give it a stir like you’re gossipin’ over iced tea.
3. Mix the Wet Stuff
In a separate bowl, beat your eggs, then add the buttermilk and melted butter. Stir until combined, but don’t overthink it—just like picking a church potluck casserole.
4. Bring it All Together
Pour your wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined. Fold in those toasted pecans if you’re feelin’ festive (or just tryin’ to impress your in-laws).
5. Sizzle & Bake
Carefully take that hot skillet out of the oven and swirl the grease around to coat the bottom. Then pour your batter right in—it should sizzle like sweet talk in the church pews. Pop it back in the oven and bake for 20–25 minutes, or until the top is golden and a toothpick comes out clean.
6. Cool & Serve
Let it sit for 5 minutes (if you can wait that long), then slice it up and serve warm with a slab of butter, a drizzle of honey, or a dollop of nostalgia.
(Set the Scene, Sugar)
Our golden cornbread sits proud as a peacock in a black cast iron skillet, resting atop a red gingham cloth on an old oak farmhouse table. A pat of butter melts gently over the warm top, sliding slowly into the crevices like it knows it belongs there. The toasted pecans catch the light just so, and steam curls into the air, wrapping the kitchen in cozy, buttery joy. A chipped mason jar of sweet tea waits nearby, and if you listen closely, you can almost hear someone hollerin’ “Y’all come eat!”

Granny’s Final Word
Cornbread, my sweet baby, isn’t just a side dish—it’s a centerpiece of Southern hospitality. Whether you’re serving it with greens, chili, or just sneakin’ a wedge with some jam before bed, this skillet version will make you the talk of the table.
And remember:
If anyone tells you cornbread don’t need butter, just smile sweetly and bless their misguided little hearts.
Love,
Granny B
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