Blueberry Corncake and Parenthood—A Harvest Worth Sharing

Blueberry Cornmeal Skillet Cake

Corn is King

Here in Iowa, corn is king. As fall approaches, the landscape is blanketed in golden fields of corn.  I love the fall harvest season—the golden expanse, the glow at dusk, and the smell. Yes, harvest has a smell. If you’re from the rural areas, you know what I mean.

This week I chose the Blueberry Cornmeal Skillet Cake because it seemed appropriate for a couple of reasons. For one, a cornfield rises with every venture outside city limits. In addition, the concept of a corn cake scattered with blueberries rolled through my mind as a metaphor for parenting children, who have now all scattered from where we planted our family here in Iowa. 

Rustic and Simple

As with any cast iron skillet cake, this one came together very simply. A recipe baked in cast iron begs for simplicity. There is nothing dainty or delicate about a heavy, black baking vessel. According to Julie Richardson, author of Vintage Cakes, in colonial times, bakeware came from the blacksmith, hence the use of a cast iron skillet for colonial desserts.

Don’t tell Julie, but I didn’t even sift my flour. The rustic nature of this cake whispered that it was okay. Beyond that, the batter whipped up quickly, and at the end, the frozen blueberries gently mingled in. 

Corn Carries the Cake

In case you didn’t see where this was headed, the cornmeal was the special element in this cake. If it were past harvest time, I’d have been able to acquire some farm-fresh corn to grind into an even more rustic meal. That’s when a corn cake is truly authentic.

The corn’s earthy flavor is a pleasant carrier for the plump, sweet blueberries and provides a toothy crumb. And the inclusion of honey in the recipe gently sweetens the finished product.

A Compliment to “Dad Breakfast”

As usual, my husband and I enhanced the warm cake with some vanilla ice cream. I sliced it, but scooping would have sufficed. It was reminiscent of the corncake served at Chi-Chi’s restaurants—but better with blueberries.

This cake did double duty because we had a weekend house guest, so it also worked as breakfast. Of course, it was overshadowed by my husband’s famous “Dad Breakfast.” Nothing competes with “Dad Breakfast.”

Parenthood—A Harvest Worth Sharing: The Transcend Moment

What felt special to me about this cake was the comparison of corn and harvest to parenting children into independent adults—metaphorically speaking. I didn’t realize it, but I think I was feeling the emptiness once we moved our last one away—no more spur-of-the-moment fro-yo trips or hikes by the lake. 

I’ve been thinking about how we put down roots here in Iowa corn country. As with corn crops, we nourished our seeds and marveled at their growth. We watered and fertilized their minds while allowing them the space to flourish. They’ve withstood the elements, and finally, after the “corn sweat” and time to mature, they were released to do their own good in the world.

The blueberries are the sweet spots—the little things we cherish—like family FaceTime, our family “goodnight” text, Iowa tailgates, holidays, and special moments in between. When they were young, we didn’t realize these little things were really the big things—the essentials.

I’m not going to lie, sometimes I selfishly wish I didn’t have to share this harvest. I put so much of myself into it; shouldn’t it be mine? But successful farmers produce a thriving crop and share it with pride.

So, I’m grateful for the roots we’ve established. We cherish the special moments we still get to share, and appreciate the sweet spots even more—the blueberry corncake of life.