Of all the people and things that I miss from growing up in eastern NC, biscuits stand out on their own. I joke with people that a biscuit down south was a womans calling card. I could get one glance and know whoms biscuits were on the table at family gatherings; and I still remember people by there biscuits. There was Grannys cathead variety, various aunts that I still remember, but my Grandmoos were of a special variety to me. They way she worked her dough and pinched balls off, instead of a cutter, was distinct in taste and texture. She also used to sometimes put cubes of sharp cheddar inside that would melt to perfection. But, the one that stands out he most is a recipe she took to the grave that had sausage in the dough. The biscuits came out with an orange hue from the grease. I have since developed my own technique which is an amalgamation of several styles Ive seen. I like to roll out and fold my dough, back on itself, in flour dusted layers to achieve a flakey crumb. So heres to the southern biscuit; the other utensil, or edible silverware on the plate!
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 22:36:18 +0000
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