"biscuit" news and stories

The best thing about embarking on a mission to perfect one's biscuit making? You end up with an awful lot of delicious biscuits to eat. The worst thing? Holy heck, that's a lot of biscuits. I'm lucky enough to be married to an enthusiastic biscuit eater, but I don't want to try his patience too badly this early on, 'cause there are dozens more batches to be rolled out before the year is up.

Solution -- adapt one of his most dearly beloved dishes, his grandmother and mother's Memama and Mimiwag's Chicken & Dumplings a bit to accommodate extra biscuits as ersatz dumplings. The original recipe employs long, rolled strips of dough (which some have argued render it as a much more regionally specific Chicken & Pastry formation, but that's a whole 'nother post), but in lieu of that, I halved the biscuits (from the best batch thus far -- #6 White Lily All Purpose with 50/50 Lard/Butter) and stewed them into the sumptuous broth of a whole, cooked-down chicken until they were softened, but not soggy. That night, with a side of sauteed, vinegar-dashed Swiss chard, it was heaven. Two days later, plated with tangy collards -- otherworldy.

Have a favored use for extra biscuits? I beg of you, share it in the comments below.

Recipes is after the jump.

Previously: Recipe #1 - White Lily and Lard

The less said about this batch, the better. I rolled 'em too thin, left them in the oven a minute or two too long, used too little liquid, achieved little to no loft, and skimped on flavor by switching from lard to vegetable shortening. Perhaps in the hands of a master biscuit maker, these factors wouldn't matter, but perhaps at this point, I need some training wheels in the form of commercial baking powder or self-rising flour.

My other muck-up -- I fell prey to fear of touching the dough too much and barely allowed the ingredients to mingle either during the bowl mixing or the kneading. While I've heard from all and sundry that overworking the dough is the kiss of death, there's got to be a happy medium. And hopefully a few sky-high biscuits.

Tips and more after the jump, and as always, I'd love any advice you feel like sharing.

I do not come from a biscuit making people. That's not to say that I led an entirely biscuitless youth -- just that the addition of water to a measure of Bisquick, and the joyless lumping thereof on a cookie sheet does not, what I consider a biscuit, make. Though this is a matter of great conjecture for folks from all walks, my particular biscuit paradigm is a balance of moist, fluffily layered, lard-laced innards and a crisped-up, nearly brittle top and bottom. A crunch through should grudgingly yield to a just off-sweet, pillowy, melting mass of deliciousness. With shards of salty country ham, a rich swipe of sweet butter, or just steaming hot from the oven, it's handheld heaven.

I can't make biscuits like that to save my life. In '09, that all changes.

With the aid of every cookbook, internet tip, and friends' advice at my disposal, I'm on a mission to perfect my biscuit making. I shall seek the counsel of Southern grandmothers and hound professional chefs until they begin to assail me with dough blenders. I shall become tiresome on the subject. I'm sure my husband would assert that I already have. 'Sokay -- he'll get fresh biscuits out of the deal, as will my colleagues, dogs, dog walker, friends, neighbors, cashiers, subway train drivers. Heck, I probably don't even know you, and you'll likely end up with a leftover biscuit from me.

I dig 'em with the tang of buttermilk and lard's sweet, creamy kiss, but for the sake of scientific exploration, I'll entertain alternate liquids and fats. I've been a good li'l stockpiling squirrel and plundered the shelves of several Harris Teeters and Food Lions during a recent sojurn to North Carolina so that the ingredients may possess the ideal terroir as borne by Southern flours like White Lily, Red Band and Southern Biscuit. I have chilled my lard, readied my sifting hand, and offered a small homage to the spirit of the dearly departed Edna Lewis. I am ready to begin.

This may not be my heritage, but it is my destiny.

Read on for the results of the first effort.

Brioche is nice and baguettes are lovely, but some meals just won't work without a piping hot, fresh biscuit on the side of the plate. An American biscuit, as opposed to the British cookie-type of biscuit, is a light, tender quick bread that can be sweet or savory. Biscuit Bliss: 101 Foolproof Recipes for Fresh and Fluffy Biscuits in Just Minutes is a cookbook that delivers nothing but biscuits, along with a comprehensive guide to biscuit-making that ensures you'll have perfect results to serve alongside your morning coffee or with a meat-and-potatoes dinner. One thing that it emphasizes up front is the importance of selecting the proper ingredients for biscuit-making, including fats, leavenings and flours. Recipes include classic buttermilk biscuits, sweet potato biscuits and a wide variety of scones.

If you need any more convincing, let me quote one of the Amazon reviewers, who said, "Why would I go out to buy a whole book, even if it's a fairly small book, just on something so simple as how to make biscuits? Because I've never been happy with the biscuits that I've made. The ones made by my grandmother...are so much better than the ones I've been able to make.... I haven't tried all 101 'foolproof' recipes in the book. But I think that this morning's batch is the best I've made yet."

Source

If you have ever been to Australia or known someone who has been/lived there, you probably know what a Tim Tam is. It is a biscuit ("cookie") made by Arnott's that is widely regarded as one of the best things you can get down under. Unfortunately, the only place you can find them is Australia and a few very select importers, ones who actually import from countries other than England. But this weekend, in what I'm hoping is the start of wider availability, I found Tim Tams for sale at Cost Plus World Market.

You'll notice that the packaging doesn't actually say "Tim Tam" on it, but the picture of the biscuit (not to mention the one inside!) is unmistakable: a chocolate covered sandwich of light, crisp wafers and a unique, chocolate cream filling. Of course, mere description can't capture the caramel, vanilla and butter notes of the trip-chocolate biscuit, but at least it's a start.

I hope that I'll be able to find Tim Tams with more regularity, rather than relying on my Aussie friends to ship them to me. In the meantime, I'll practice my Tim Tam slam (even though I prefer it with a coffee instead of tea, which Niki used).