Mom's biscuits

It took awhile to find a recipe and learn the tricks of making the kind of baking-powder biscuits mom used to make on the farm. After a few tries, I think I'm getting there.

One of the reasons recipes like this were popular in farming communities is that people milked their own cows and had their own cream, a major ingredient.

John gets ready for a taste test.

Trust John to adopt a good pose for the photographer!

Mom made baking-powder biscuits as effortlessly as she brewed a pot of tea. She'd throw flour, baking powder and salt into a bowl, add cream (from cows milked that morning) until the dough stuck together, toss it on the counter to roll it out, cut circles with a water glass, put them in the oven -- and 20 minutes later, voila! Light, tender, warm rounds of biscuits.

Because it was so easy for her, I assumed I would have no trouble if and when I ever wanted to make such biscuits myself. But I didn't get her instructions (her recipe was probably in her head) before she died, and every version I could find included at least some butter instead of straight cream.

Eventually one popped up as part of a magazine article on making excellent fried chicken. "Cream Biscuits" are apparently considered an appropriate side dish for same, but I didn't care -- the recipe looked exactly like mom's.

My first attempts did not go well. The instructions are to "pat" the dough into a circle about an inch thick before cutting it into wedges. Taking this as a warning to treat it gently, I eschewed a rolling pin, and depended on my hands to squash it down. It was far more than an inch thick, it wasn't a circle, and it didn't cut well. The result? Odd-shaped towers of triangular biscuits, uncooked in the middle.

On Tuesday, I channeled mom's no-nonsense attitude. A rolling pin, firmly applied, got the dough down to an inch, and a water glass cut out even-sized circles. The resulting biscuits were tender, cooked through, and with butter and jam applied, almost as good as mom's. Not as easy as brewing a pot of tea, though.

Flaky, tender and warm, with a bit of butter melting on it. Yes, I know it's incredibly indulgent, but John and I both preceded it with  a bowl of kale salad.  

Raspberry jam adds the final touch. This is bought jam, but what made the biscuits memorable on the farm was home-made jam from wild raspberries. No other jam can approach it. 

The recipe, which I found in a magazine article about making fried chicken.