It all comes back to food. When I think of family gatherings or time spent with friends, food is usually the focal point. And when I travel somewhere, I’m usually on the hunt for good local cuisine. So a visit to Berea, Kentucky, for me, equates to spoonbread. Made with white corn meal and ground fine, spoonbread is a rustic dish similar to yellow cornbread but with a softer, lighter consistency. Served hot with plenty of butter, good spoonbread will melt in your mouth. It’s not surprising there’s a whole festival devoted to this simple dish, held each September in Berea.
I lived in Lexington for many years and, of course, the culinary item most people associate with the state is bourbon, and for good reason. But to really get to know a place, you need to delve a little deeper and that’s what I wanted to do when I first moved there. (And also, I don’t like bourbon.) I had heard about this charming little town about a half-hour drive south of Lexington off of I-75. Berea is nestled in the foothills of Appalachia and is home to a good liberal arts school, Berea College. Founded in 1855, the college became known for its focus on assisting poverty-stricken Appalachian residents in earning an education. Berea College also has a student labor program, whereby students work through school to contribute to the cost of their education.
What drew my curiosity to the town initially, however, was this dish called spoonbread. The opportunity to try it arose one fall during a visit from my parents. We took a day trip down to Berea, and I had made a lunch reservation at the Boone Tavern Hotel in the heart of town. The historic inn dates to 1909 as a place for visitors to the college to stay. Students work there in various capacities, including in the dining room. A long veranda on the side looks out onto the campus, and just off the main lobby is the restaurant, renowned for its spoonbread and for putting the dish on the culinary map, so to speak.
When the server came around with a big pan of spoonbread and a big spoon to scoop out a generous portion, my parents were on board to try it. While my dad had never really been a fan of cornbread, my mother grew up with yellow cornbread (no sugar) as a staple in her family. They were both pleasantly surprised by this more delicate, lighter version. And honestly, I don’t really remember what we ate for lunch that day (it’s been a few years), except for that spoonbread.
Warm, fresh out of the oven, and slathered in butter, spoonbread ranks as one of my top comfort foods. The taste is hard to describe—there’s a sweetness to the cornmeal and the richness of the butter. Perhaps it’s more a feeling—of comfort, of warmth, of home and hearth. You taste a sense of place. Of nostalgia.
I’ve loved spoonbread ever since and like to make it on chilly autumn days to accompany a stew or soup. Or it’s a good biscuit substitute for breakfast, accompanied by your favorite jam. When I visit Lexington, I usually pick up a couple of packets of spoonbread mix from Weisenberger Mill in Midway (their products, all locally sourced, are distributed to the major groceries in the area).
And I have my beautiful spoonbread baker from Berea-based Tater Knob Pottery (owned by Berea College graduates and master potters Jeff Enge and Sarah Culbreth). I just have to add water to the mix, stir until it’s smooth, pour in the dish, bake, and voila. I’m transported back to that moment at Boone Tavern with my parents, enjoying the comforting taste of spoonbread for the first time.