Rick Smith/Columnist
She was a frugal chef. Not by choice though.
She managed to put three homemade meals on the table every day. No easy task.
She cooked with her soul, using simple ingredients. Her food was delicious, and if it wasn’t, it was because she was working out the choreography of the ingredients across her palate. She was a master in the use of seasonings.
She was my mom, affectionately known as Grace E.
Like most Southern cooks, she mastered the art of brown gravy. She knew that a flavorful gravy, starting with bacon drippings, could cover a multitude of sins. When there was much more month at the end of the money, gravy could add a depth of flavor to inferior cuts of meat.
Her cathead biscuits – misshapen and rough – were legendary. Three simple ingredients: self-rising flour, buttermilk, and lard.
She put the flour in a big bowl, made a well in the center, then added buttermilk and lard to the well. Using circular motions, she gradually worked the flour into the wet ingredients. She folded the dough onto itself a couple times.
She scooped up a tablespoon of dough, about the size of a golf ball, and rolled it in the palm of her hand. She crowded the biscuits into a well-oiled cast iron skillet. They baked until lightly browned on top.
No syrup in the pantry? No problem. She made a simple syrup using sugar, water, and vanilla.
She was a loyal customer of Blackburn’s syrup. “Why would you buy any other brand?” she asked.
Blackburn’s sugarcane syrup began in 1927. It was the same year that Laurel and Hardy emerged on screen, Eduard Haas III invented PEZ candy, and aviator Charles Lindbergh completed the first transatlantic, solo, nonstop flight. A “receipt for honey” was given to Thomas Jefferson “T.J.” Blackburn and his wife, Lurline, by a traveler in exchange for some good home cooking and a clean bed with fresh sheets.
T.J. and Lurline made a few tweaks to the recipe, landing on a syrup that would soon rival the more run-of-the-mill maple and honey varieties. Poured over buttered cathead biscuits or a stack of hot pancakes, the Blackburn duo knew they had ushered a winner across the finish line. The public sopped the last drops of syrup off their plates and gave two thumbs up.
Over the years, the company, located in Jefferson, Texas, has delivered a premium syrup that kept the wolf from the door through the Great Depression, the Dirty Thirties, fires that destroyed buildings and machinery, and the death of Elder Blackburn.
Today, Blackburn’s is still family-owned and operated. Blackburn’s syrups, jellies, and preserves are sold in grocery stores in all fifty states. It is a multi-million-dollar company that has stood as a testament to time, changing its modus operandi to stay shoulder to shoulder with the ever-evolving times.
Planning a trip to Historic Jefferson, Texas? Be sure to visit Bohn’s Gift Shoppe, the only outlet store for Blackburn products. And while you’re there, say hello to Mario.
Rick Smith is a Jeffersonian and can be reached at theriquemeister@gmail.com.