Page 1 of Honey's Special Roux

The smellof pound cake permeated the air as boisterous laughs tickled my ears. It wasn’t unusual for the Hix family to congregate in our home. In fact, most Sundays, we’d gather around the kitchen island after church service to enjoy some of the best home-cooked food ever. My love for cooking came from the frequent gatherings with the aunties, Mama, and Granny Janie. As I watched these women come together to gossip and create a meal to hug my soul, I couldn’t help but want to create something like this when I grew up. There was hope for my sister Chamille and me to create moments like this when we got to their age—God willing.

“Honey, butter the cornbread for me, baby. Make sure you get it all around the edges, too.” With her favorite purple oven mitten, Granny Janie pulled out the cast-iron skillet containing the golden-brown cornbread from the oven. Aunt Judith came behind her to shut the oven door.

“Yes, ma’am.” I pushed away from the island with my palms and walked over to the sink to wash my hands. I didn’t want to be the focus of the group for not practicing cleanliness, so I turned on the faucet and scrubbed my hands as I continued to listen in on the latest news.

“Did y’all see First Lady Lisa’s hat today?” Mama asked with a humorous glint in her eye.

“Chile, she looked a damn?—”

“Aht. God doesn’t like ugly. Don’t y’all get to talkin’ about that lady’s church attire.” Granny Janie eyed both women. I stifled my laughter as I shifted over to the hot skillet on the counter.

“The food smells so good,” I commented as I grabbed the stick of Land O’ Lakes.

“Mm-hmm.” Granny Janie replied before she bumped her hip against mine.

When Granny first taught me her cornbread recipe, she revealed she used two boxes of Jiffy cornbread and tweaked the recipe on the box to fit her liking. She added sugar, butter, and a generous amount of honey into the mixture before she baked it in the oven. No one could tell, or they could and never mentioned it, because it was always mouthwateringly delicious.

As I buttered the cornbread, I allowed my ears to tune into the conversation with the women in the family. Aunt Josephine sat with her arms crossed at the dinner table, while Mama and Aunt Judith stood near the island and put the finishing touches on the desserts. Granny manned the stove, making sure all the pots were off and the food was ready to serve.

All of Granny’s children were almost identical to the matriarch of the family. They all shared her golden-brown skin, soft, curly hair, and wide hips. It was like she’d put her picture in a 3D printer that almost printed exact copies, but there was an issue with the printer adding or removing a feature.

“It’s so sad to hear what happened to Dedra’s nephew,” Mama stated as she layered bananas, pudding, and cookies into a bowl to make banana pudding.

“Girl, I heard the young man was in a lot of trouble. Heard he was into drugs… or something.” Aunt Judith chimed in.

“Hush up with all that gossip, chile!” Granny exclaimed as she zeroed her eyes on all three of her daughters.

“Mama, you can’t expect us not to comment on the situation when the pastor brought them up today at service. He wanted us to welcome them into the community, and that’s what we’re doing. However, we gon’ talk about it while we do so.” Mama was the middle child, with Aunt Judith being the oldest, and Aunt Josephine being the youngest. Middle children often played the fence on discussions, but Mama was as vocal as her mom.

“Granny, I finished buttering the cornbread. Anything else you need me to do?” I asked to take the attention off Mama.

Granny remained quiet for a moment before she turned to me with the biggest smile. “You can tell the men and children to get ready for dinner. Then come on back and help me pack the Tupperware for the Kents.”

With a new assignment, I walked out of the kitchen and headed into the living room to get the men, who were all seated on the edge of their seats, watching a football game. Daddy was a Cowboys fan in the land of Texans and Saints fans, so he was the odd man out in the group of men.

“Hey, y’all! Sunday dinner is ready. Wash up. By the time y’all unglue your eyes from the game, your wives will have your plates made,” I announced.

Daddy looked at me with a grin on his chocolate face. “Thanks, Sweet Tea.”

“Is Aunt Halimah outside with the kids?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, she’s out there.”

The hallway led me outside to the back porch. “Hey! The food is ready! Y’all need to wash your little dirty hands and find yo’ parents.”

Chamille snickered as she hopped off the tree branch and made her way over to me. “It’s about time.”

“Girl, you stink.”

Chamille lifted her arms and smelled her armpits. She scrunched her nose. “Dang. I must’ve forgotten to put on deodorant.”

“Yikes!” I hollered.

“I better go wash really fast. If you make my plate, I’ll give you a dollar.”

“Girl, boo! Go clean your pits. It shouldn’t take too long. Mama might make your plate for you, anyway.”

She nodded and scurried into the house with her arms firmly by her side. Chamille was my younger sister. She was twelve going on thirteen and was the true definition of a tomboy. She climbed trees, played with bugs, and rode her bike with the other boys on the block. She was pretty, with long hair that she hated to let free. She kept her hair in two cornrows that rest just above the training bra she’d started wearing a few months ago.

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