I loves me some biscuits. Loves might even be an understatement. In my opinion, there are few culinary delights in life that can compare with a piping hot homemade biscuit, right outta the oven, split open with a big smear of butter melting into the heavenly little fluffy nooks and crannies. Mmmm. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it. I can almost taste it.
I know I’ve raved about Mountain Man’s culinary abilities before, but I think his biscuits rank right up there on my list of favorite things he can whip up. Honestly, they’re to die for. And crumbled up on a plate underneath a big heaping helping of his sausage gravy is my favorite way to enjoy these delectable little morsels.
As much as I love biscuits, I’m ashamed to admit that last night was my very first attempt, ever in my life, to make biscuits from scratch. This, to me, is just a disgrace, considering I’m from the South! I’m not real sure why I’ve never made homemade biscuits. I make homemade bread all the time. Really, when I think about it, there’ s no plausible explanation for all these years spent buying canned and frozen biscuits.
Mountain Man’s approach to cooking is much different from mine. He’s one of these let’s throw a little of this and a dash of that in the pot, and it always comes out tasting like something I can only hope they’ll be serving in Heaven once I get there. Me, not so much. I’m a recipe kinda gal. If I have a recipe, I can usually make whatever it is I’m attempting. Unless of course, I don’t have the necessary ingredients, and if you know me at all, you know I won’t realize I’m missing said ingredients until after I’ve already started making whatever it is I’m attempting to make.
Last night, I lucked out. I had a Paula Deen recipe for biscuits and I had all the necessary ingredients. And of course, I didn’t check before I started. Now, these biscuits were totally different from Mountain Man’s. He uses shortening in his biscuits, mine called for butter. He free forms his, I rolled mine out and cut ’em with a glass. He bakes his on a sheet pan, I put mine in a cast iron skillet. Something, by the way, that I’d never seen or heard of before.
My biscuits looked so pretty once I got ’em in the buttered pan. I was really proud of the way they’d turned out so far. Of course, I hadn’t baked them yet. God only knew what they were actually gonna look and taste like once they came out of the oven. They took a lot longer to bake than I had anticipated, but after what seemed like forever, they were finally done.
They looked a lot different than the giant, fluffy mounds Mountain Man bakes up that I’ve become accustomed to eating. They were flatter, denser. They had a little crunch on the bottom that I’m assuming came from the generous coating of butter on the bottom of the cast iron pan and the little nooks and crannies on the inside weren’t nearly as heavenly or fluffy, therefore not nearly as accepting of the big smear of butter I like to put in my split, hot outta the oven biscuits.
All in all though, they weren’t too bad. For my very first made from scratch biscuits, they weren’t too bad at all. Mountain Man thinks they might even make better vehicles for his sausage gravy than his yummy, fluffy biscuits. I totally do not agree with this, but I understand his reasoning behind it. I guess we’ll have to test that theory, hopefully sometime in the very near future.