Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Just grab 'em in the biscuits
Not just an immortal line from Digital Underground's "Humpty Dance", but an intimidating call to action for someone who was reared in the South by a Midwestern family, devoid of the knowledge guarded by the Secret Society of Southern Grandmothers, Grammas, Memaws, and Nanas. How much fatback to put in the green beans. How to fry absolutely every vegetable that is put on the plate with the fried meats and not suffer terrible and unyielding gastrointestinal discomfort. How to make a perfect biscuit. Trade information that I do not have. Indeed, the biscuit (in the sense that we know it in the States; British Empire definitions need not apply here), although being defined as a "quick bread" (perhaps suggesting a simplicity in preparation), is to me like many foods. Few ingredients, minimal prep, and yet a food that can manifest itself on so many levels of success: from spectacular to craptacular; the product always indicative of the hand that crafted it. In this vein, I equate the perfect biscuit to the perfect noodle, the perfect martini, or timing Mario's jump on the koopa troopa just right on level 3-1 of Super Mario Bros. so as to earn enough extra lives to remember the stupid labrynth sequence in level 8-4. Man, I hate 8-4!
Beware of these little guys...
So- biscuits. Simple, but not easy. I thought I'd give them a crack on Christmas morning, surrounding the perfection that is a fried pork chop.
Oh, I forgot to mention that my wife's family is from South Carolina, and I'm not talking first generation. They have a "brown food group", dedicated to fried delights. I'm serious. More pressure.
Anyway, here it goes. You may sing along if you like...
The verdict? I think the flavor was good, but they were a little dry. I'm going to try for a stickier dough next time, as it absorbed a bunch of the flour when rolling out. Also, I did not shake my baking powder before spooning it out. Word on the skreets is that you're supposed to do that. Yeah, these were pretty good, but I have a long way to go for perfection. However, I will gladly praise the Lard and continue to tweak the recipe to meet that end...
...my relationship with the in-laws just might depend on it.
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