As everyone knows, I’m from Arkansas. Mister Husband is Oklahoman by way of California. You would think we would have fairly similar food backgrounds, especially given the fact that my in-laws are straight-up Oklahomans. But no. In more than four years, we have still not managed to resolve the issue of cornbread. We disagree on several key aspects:

1. Basic Geometry: Where I come from (my grandma’s kitchen), cornbread is round. Always. She made hers in a pie plate, but cast iron skillets really do give a better crust. It is sliced like pie, so that you end up with wedges. Cornbread may also come in the form of muffins, which are, of course, round.

   It will not surprise you to hear that Mister Husband makes square cornbread. Rectangular, actually, which is then cut into squares.

2. Dimensions: When making round cornbread, one makes a lot. There should be enough batter to mostly fill the pie plate or skillet. Once it rises, the baking dish will be filled completely. When all is said and done, the result is a thick wedge of cornbread 1 1/2 to 2 inches thick. This is diametrically opposed to Mister Husband’s theory of thickness, wherein the cornbread must be thin so as to maximize the ratio of crust to breadiness.


3. Bisecting and Final Form: When served a hot wedge (or square) of cornbread, one slices it in half and butters it. This we agree upon. I feel strongly that the two slices must remain separate for individual delectation. He puts them back together and eats them that way. This difference is directly related to individual philosophies of dimensionality: a thick piece is too thick to eat unless cut in half, and a thin piece is too delicate to pick up unless it’s mushed together.