My grandmother — we called her Mammy — was a true Southern cook.
She was happiest with people at her table. There was always a coffee can of bacon grease sitting on the stove and homemade buttermilk biscuits, baked twice a day, in the oven. Working with a vintage Tupperware bowl half-filled with flour, she would hollow out a well in the center and add the butter, salt, baking powder, buttermilk. I remember those ingredients, but I’m not sure what else she might have added or how much of any particular ingredient. I’m not sure that Mammy ever measured anything.
She’d combine everything lightly with her fingertips, turning out a large ball of dough that she would then separate into individual balls, each gently patted out into the greased cast-iron skillet she had warmed in the oven. The rounds of patted dough with her two-finger imprint would then bake, just barely touching each other. Retrieved from the oven, they boasted a golden brown crispy exterior and tender interior. Often enjoyed with gravy, I remember eating them countless times. I took them completely for granted.
I’m not sure if it was because she so enjoyed practicing this act of love for us or if I just had no interest in cooking, but I never learned how to make any of Mammy’s recipes. I was 31 when my grandmother passed away and I felt immediate regret that I hadn’t learned her signature dishes, even though I had witnessed their making so many times. I didn’t know the exact recipe for the biscuits or anything else. I felt her spirit within me as I began to devour every cookbook I could find, taking classes (including a “learning to cook” series from LaVerl Daily at La Panier in West University at the time) and got on with the business of making sure our family would find a way to have a Thanksgiving dinner, even though Mammy was no longer with us. My precious mother is an amazing woman who had no interest herself in cooking, and who could blame her? Mammy had been cooking her whole life, and we ate with Mammy and Pappy so often that nobody expected Mom to cook. Mom was fine passing the torch to me.
Pappy lived for nine more years after Mammy passed away, and he would reminisce about those biscuits and how he wished somebody could make them. My attempts fell flat. I was intimidated to start with – it just seemed impossible to replicate what had been perfect, and eventually Pillsbury came out with a frozen variety that he didn’t hate. I did research, prepare and can 24 jars of chow-chow, a Southern relish-type condiment, and that made him really happy. But alas, no great biscuits.
I’ve became a pretty solid cook in the 17 years since Mammy died. I love feeding people just as she did– and I think she would be proud of my progress — yet I’ve always shied away from making biscuits. Recently I felt a surge to delve in – for real this time – and I was determined to figure out to make a good biscuit. Not trying to replicate Mammy’s – just to make a good one. That felt liberating, and so I moved into research mode.
I quickly learned that there’s as much variety in Southern biscuit recipes as there is in Southerners.
For fat you could try butter, shortening, oil, mayonnaise, bacon fat or margarine. The dough might be blended with buttermilk, whole milk, light cream, skim milk or heavy cream. Some recipes call for you to fold, some knead and some say barely touch the dough.
I tried several recipes, loved none and felt the familiar intimidation factor kicking in. Fortunately I learned of a biscuit class held at Central Market by Carrie Morey, a cookbook author and owner of Callie’s Charleston Biscuits in Charleston, S.C. Building upon the biscuits her mom made, she launched the gourmet biscuit company in 2005. The biscuits were so well received that she sold more than a half-million of them last year via high-end grocery retailers such as Central Market. I had a good vibe about this woman and her popular Southern biscuits, and my enthusiasm returned.
We began the class sampling the biscuits we were going to make – a delicate, divine black pepper biscuit (recipe below) that could be modified in various ways. I was instantly smitten and ready to learn this recipe. I love hands-on cooking classes, and this one was actually hands-in-the-dough. Carrie demonstrated her technique and described the ideal texture we were aiming for each step of the way. She was laid back about the whole process and wanted us to have fun with it. I realized I might have been over-thinking the whole biscuit thing, or maybe I had finally found the recipe that worked for me. I personally think using White Lily flour and the cream cheese in the dough made all the difference. I also abandoned my fear of a wet dough and got comfortable with the liberal use of flour for dusting and patting. And I realized the importance of not over-working the dough. I left feeling quite accomplished.
I’ve decided that a great biscuit has a lot do to with individual preference and more importantly, if it’s homemade and made with love, you can’t go wrong. I liked Carrie’s attitude about food so much – I finally got it. It’s not just a biscuit; it’s the enjoyment of them that creates a lasting memory. I bought two extra copies of her book, Callie’s Biscuits and Southern Traditions – Heirloom Recipes from Our Family Kitchen to give as Christmas gifts to two friends of mine who enjoy Southern cooking. It’s just my way to contribute to the making of memories and possibly even world peace, one biscuit at a time.
Reprinted with permission from Callie’s Biscuits and Southern Traditions – Heirloom Recipes from Our Family Kitchen
Makes about 10 (2-inch) biscuits
INGREDIENTS:
• 2 cups self-rising flour (White Lily preferred) plus more for dusting
• 1½ to 2 tsp. coarsely ground black pepper
• 5 Tbsp. butter; 4 tablespoons cut into small cubes, at room temperature, and 1 tablespoon melted
• ¼ cup cream cheese, at room temperature
• ¾ cup whole buttermilk (may substitute low-fat buttermilk)
• Topping: 1½ tsp. kosher salt and 1½ tsp. coarsely ground black pepper, mixed
METHOD: Preheat oven to 500 degrees F. Make sure the oven rack is in the middle position. Measure the flour into a large bowl. Mix in the pepper to distribute evenly. Incorporate the cubed butter and then the cream cheese into the flour, using your fingers to “cut in” the butter and cheese until the mixture resembles cottage cheese. It will be chunky with some loose flour.
Make a well in the center. Pour in the buttermilk and, using your hands, mix the flour into the buttermilk. The dough will be wet and messy. Sprinkle flour on top of the dough. Run a rubber spatula around inside of the bowl, creating a separation between the dough and the bowl. Sprinkle a bit more flour in the crease.
Flour a work surface or flexible baking mat very well. With force, dump the dough from the bowl onto the surface. Flour the top of the dough and the rolling pin. Roll out the dough to ½-inch thickness into a oval shape. (No kneading is necessary—the less you mess with the dough, the better.)
Flour a 2-inch round metal biscuit cutter or biscuit glass. Start from the edge of the rolled-out dough and cut straight through the dough with the cutter, trying to maximize the number of biscuits cut from this first roll out. Roll out the excess dough after the biscuits are cut and cut more biscuits. As long as the dough stays wet inside, you can use as much flour on the outside as you need to handle the dough. Place the biscuits on a baking sheet with sides lined with parchment paper, in a cast-iron skillet or a baking pan with the biscuit sides touching. (It does not matter what size pan or skillet you use as long as the pan has a lip or sides and the biscuits are touching. If you are using a cast-iron skillet, no parchment paper is necessary.) Brush the tops with the melted butter and sprinkle with the topping.
Place the pan in the oven and immediately reduce the temperature to 450 degrees F. Bake 16 to 18 minutes until light brown on top (or as dark as you prefer), rotating the pan once while baking.