A couple years ago, without really planning it, l found myself standing in William Faulkner’s kitchen. In Oxford, Mississippi, for the Southern Foodways Symposium, I did what every tourist to Ole Miss does: I visited Rowan Oak, William Faulkner’s home just off campus.
After zipping through the self-guided tour, I asked about the kitchen and learned that it wasn’t open to the public, but with a little nice-nice and my best southern smile, I found my way in, chaperoned by a docent who told me in the kindest possible voice that it was best to not touch anything. What I found was a very real and simple testament to the theory that the kitchen is the warmest place in house.
