Glimpses back to childhood always bring forth an odd remembrance of some kind. Sometimes when I go into our kitchen at night, I will think of the kitchen in my childhood home. At least once a week, we had pinto beans for supper, usually accompanied by potatoes fried in the black iron skillet and a cake of cornbread baked into another iron skillet. I didn’t realize it then but that was a poor supper. That was Mama trying to save money. Even to this day, it’s hard to find a cheaper meal than pinto beans, fried potatoes and cornbread, washed down, of course, with an ice cold glass of buttermilk.