With the crispy. With the crumbly. With the cheesy.
And the herby. The buttery. The flaky.
Ugh. Perfection. Especially drop biscuits. There’s no folding, no cutting – not that we mind those things, we don’t, sometimes you just need a quick and easy biscuit. Just a little mix, a gentle scoop, and a quick bake.
The secret is the cast iron pan. It gives you the crust. That golden brown, crunchy, melted butter goodness. No, it’s not entirely necessary to use a cast iron pan to make these. A round cake pan, (Hell! A square cake pan.) would do. You won’t have the crust, but you’ll have the closeness. And did you know? That actually helps the biscuits rise! Learned that years ago from Alex at GB&D and I’ll never forget it.
This is one of those recipes I didn’t mean to make.
Does that happen to you? Do you accidentally make biscuits? And then accidentally turn them into breakfast sandwiches?
This is why when people tell me things like, “You’re so good at being an adult,” that I just guffaw and brush it off. I don’t know many people that inadvertently spend their mornings avoiding real responsibility by baking biscuits. And then photograph it and post about it while waiting for a purposefully baked cake to cool.
I eat a lot. Are we really surprised? I think about what I’m going to be eating for lunch while making breakfast. I plan my breakfast whilst eating dinner. I make my own food and I eat out. The latter informs the former quite a bit.
There’s nothing I love more than having an amazing dish when I’m out for breakfast, lunch, or dinner and then attempting to recreate it in my own kitchen. The flavors or method or combination
I toldy’all. Just needed to let it run its course. And it did and it’s gone and I’m back!
These French Onion Scones are what kicked my funk to the curb. I had been trying so hard to force something sweet to come out of my oven when what really needed to happen was something savory.
I love making scones and biscuits of all sorts. There is something so therapeutic about cutting butter into flour and folding dough over and over. When my hands are moving, fingers coated in flour, easily remembering the formula and ritual, my mind can wander and I’m suddenly relieved of whatever tension or troubles were weighing me down. I love watching them puff up in the oven, golden brown and flaky. While they bake, I’m left with plenty of time to clean up what little mess I’ve made before sitting down to enjoy one fresh out of the oven. They’re so comforting. So delicious.