More Biscuits Please...

We had an alumni meeting last night, which meant that we caught a quick bite to eat at a local restaurant before heading back to school.  Shortly after we sat down, the waitress brought over a basket of fresh, hot biscuits for us to nibble on while we waited for our meal and I was instantly taken back to my grandma's kitchen and watching her make biscuits for our family at every meal.

Grandma and Grandpa lived a simple life- and tenant farmed for most of my dad's childhood until their

children were old enough to go in together and purchase a small farm for their parents that was about 5

minutes from where I was raised.  The sense of duty and family ties was as thick as the blood that ran through their veins.  If any of dad's seven brothers or sisters or any of our cousins (there were thirteen of us total in our generation) came up- Grandma would call those of us who lived close by and want to have us over for lunch.  Grandma's table always had a a feast with some kind of meat, applesauce and cucumbers with green onions in vinegar and fresh biscuits among a variety of other veggies (most of which she raised in her garden).

Grandma always made her biscuits in the dinning room- she had a huge wooden bin that sat in the corner that she kept her flour stocked in.  She would measure it out, throw in the lard and work her magic in making biscuits for our family.  She always knew just when the dough was right and ready to be rolled out and cut (using a glass jar) without ever looking at a recipe.  In many ways, this reminded me of how she tended to us as a family, always knowing when to encourage us, support us and being the bond that tied us all together. Grandma loved her family fiercely and took pride not in what they had but in who they were.  It wasn't about the fancy things that could be bought but how we stuck together when we needed to.  

When my youngest asked for "more biscuits please" last night, I couldn't help but remember back to my childhood and watching my grandma make those mouthwatering biscuits and the love that she instilled in our family or the patience she had to get her dough "just right".  Grandma never took a short cut with a canned or frozen biscuit, preferring to use her hands to provide for our family.  I hope that this is a lesson I can teach my boys- that although sometimes it is easy to accept what is easiest as being "okay"- great things can be achieved when you use your hands to make something from scratch.  (Although I do cheat and use frozen biscuits more than I should)  I hope my boys will look back on their childhood as adults and have moments when they remember these "bites" from childhood.

Never Fail Biscuits

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour 1/2 teaspoon salt 4 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar 2 teaspoons white sugar 1/2 cup butter, chilled and diced 3/4 cup milk

Directions:

1.	Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C).
2.	In a large bowl, sift together dry ingredients. Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse oatmeal. Make a well in the center of the dry mixture and pour in the milk. Stir until dough begins to pull together then turn out onto a lightly floured surface.
3.	Press dough together and then roll out until 3/4 inch thick. Cut into 2 inch round biscuits and place on an ungreased baking sheet.
4.	Bake in preheated oven for 10 minutes, or until golden.