The other problem is that I have finally perfected (well, nearly perfected) my biscuit recipe, which means I want to make them ALL THE TIME. It's been a long, hard road to biscuit perfection, and now that I've arrived, I feel like I really owe these biscuits some quality bonding time. I want them to be able to put up their feet and stay awhile, you know? Now, I am sure that you understand the trials that it takes in order to get something really, really right. When you love and appreciate something, it makes you want to reach for the stars. And, well, I've always loved a good biscuit. Although, let me be honest -- it's just not all that easy to be a biscuit maven like myself because, well, we all know that bad biscuits are a dime a dozen. But, hurrah! That actually means it's that much better, that much more exciting when you come across a really spectacular one. Let's keep in mind here that the key biscuit adjectives are light, flaky, and fluffy. The inside is what matters. (Oh my God, biscuits are like humans!)
I fell in love with the idea of baking biscuits when I first read Justin and the Best Biscuits in the World when I was eleven years old. (Really! Snatch up a used copy from Amazon for a couple bucks!) It's such a simple, yet well-spun story about the ten year-old Justin, who lives with his mother and sisters and is thoroughly convinced that pretty much all chores, including cooking, are, ahem, women's work. He then visits his cowboy grandpa on the ranch where he does, ahem, men's work -- he visits the rodeo, mends fences, and, best of all, learns to make his grandpa's famous biscuits. (Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert!) He learns, of course, that there really is no such thing as women's work or men's work, and that all work is valuable in its own way. He not only takes pride in taking care of himself, but also in learning his way around the kitchen. The biscuits become his pride and joy, and, by the time you're done with the book, you Must. Make. Biscuits. Immediately.
I thankfully grew up with parents who welcomed all sorts of kitchen experimentation and collaboration, so between their kitchen, my grandma's kitchen, and, occasionally, my aunt's kitchen, I had multiple opportunities to try out some biscuit recipes. I became a pretty serious biscuit sampler, and I remember wondering how on earth each and every biscuit could taste so, so different from the next. It still confounds me, in fact -- so few ingredients, yet so much room for error! It is simply maddening, yet fascinating. The biscuit sirens called for me!
Growing up, we'd have lovely biscuits for breakfast sometimes on the weekend, and my dad (brilliant, clever, crafty-with-condiments dad!) would make a vanilla icing to apply to them. And, if that didn't gild the lily enough, cinnamon-sugar would go on top of that. Or, sometimes, jam. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: this guy really knows his spreads and layers. Then, because my parents always knew the best places to go, I found my favorite biscuits when we were on a family vacation to New Orleans. I fell quite in love with those biscuits at Mother's, and I still dream about the perfection of the obscenely buttery layers. Please, Mother's, draw me a bath of those biscuits. I'll never ask for another thing, ever! I swear.
I'll introduce you now to my newest biscuit recipe, the one that has me shackled to the butter and sleeping in the flour as I wait for morning to come so that I can make them. I shudder with happiness (and more than a smidgen of fear) when I think about the absurdity of spreading, um, butter on something that is made out of butter...but, really, would the biscuit gods approve of these butter qualms? Likely not. When faced with biscuits, you must embrace the Butter And Shortening Factor. You just have to. The original recipe calls for cake flour, which will definitely make them airy, but I have had great success with all purpose flour, so I'd recommend starting there. Work your way into the wackiness of cake flour whenever you're feeling frisky.
Biscuits For Loving
adapted from Brilliant Food Tips and Cooking Tricks by David Joachim, who did not actually call them Biscuits For Loving...although I believe that he would be really jealous of my new name for them
1 2/3 C all purpose flour (or 1 1/3 C cake flour + 1/3 C AP flour)
2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
3 T cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
3 T cold shortening
3/4 C buttermilk (I use 3/4 C milk + 1 T white vinegar -- make sure you let it sit and curdle for about five minutes before using)
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Mix the together the dry ingredients with a whisk. Add butter and shortening with a pastry blender and cut in until both are incorporated. It should look evenly mixed with no large clumps. Quickly stir in the buttermilk until just mixed -- but try not to overwork it. On a lightly floured surface, quickly and very gently knead the dough with just your fingers until it comes together. Press or roll out into a circle-ish shape that is about 1/2" to 1" thick. (This totally depends on how thick you like your finished biscuits to be. Experiment around a bit to see what you like.) Cut out biscuit rounds with a biscuit cutter. Gather up your scraps, gently roll them out, and cut out the rest of your biscuits. (I usually end up with 9-12 biscuits, but it might be less if you make them thicker.) Bake on ungreased cookie sheet until very, very light brown on the top, 8-12 minutes. Watch them carefully. You don't want them to be overdone because that means Dry Biscuits.
Serve with, of course, butter! And pumpkin butter or apple butter. Or jam. And scrambled eggs! Just make sure you are ready to eat them as soon as they tumble out of the oven! They will be best when they are very hot and very fresh. Gaze lovingly at your biscuits and your biscuit cutter. Say thank you.
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