Mark Twain famously wrote, “The North thinks it knows how to make cornbread, but this is gross superstition”. Once can only imagine how dreadful Canadian cornbread is, eh?
I will make some confessions up front. I add wheat flour to my cornbread. It’s true, I really do. I not only cook it in a cast iron skillet in bacon fat, I also crumble bacon into the batter. I have been known (gasp!) to add a little sugar, although, this time I didn’t. Sometimes, like today, I pound some corn kernels with a mortar and pestle and toss them into the batter. And finally, while I held back this time, I have even been known to add cheese.
I assume Mr. Twain, who was right about many things, was also right about cornbread. You should remember this in case I offer you a piece, still warm from the oven, and I recommend you just say no. No, Eugene, I can’t eat made in Canada cornbread. You should have listened to Mr. Twain. You and Sheila finish it up.
Reluctantly I’ll agree.
27th Street 
I hadn’t known that John Prine passed away. How sad. Back in 1977, when I was running the Change of Pace club, John shared the stage with David Bradstreet at Alumni hall at Western. When the concert was over, John came back to Change of Pace. I was their guide through London to navigate their way to the club. John and his band stayed until around 4:00 am drinking and mostly winding down, although some jamming did take place. John was very gracious passing me a different kind of cigarette and then telling me to keep it because they all smoked their own. He had a tall glass of what I wrongly assumed was water. The glass was a water glass, but the content was vodka. Who knew. Well John and some of his band members did. By john’s demeanor, you would never guess that there was that much alcohol sloshing around in his stomach. I had the privilege recently of attending a concert of John’s at the Rose Theatre in Brampton. Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to connect with him.
That’s a great story, Arno. I hope you and your family are all well. cheers.