Me: do I need more . . . did I start that last bag . . . is the one under the kitchen table rye flour or white . . .
Mum: [as is per usual when shopping, breaking train of culinary thought with something completely unrelated and therefore detrimentally distracting] "Do you need more tofu?"
Me: [blinking out of internal flour debate] "Yes. And when we reach the tofu section clear at the other end of the store I will address that issue. Right now, in the flour section, this is what I'm dealing with."
Mum: [side eye]
Mum: [perhaps attempting, though let's not get ahead of ourselves here, to pose a relevant question] "How about baking powder?"
Me: "No we have enough I used it earlier this week and there's half a can left."
Mum: "You know what I want? Baking powder biscuits. Will you make those?"
Me: [making a flour decision and looking up] "Yes. Give me that new can of baking powder then, and go get me some buttermilk, and meet me in the paper towel aisle."
Mum: "Buttermilk?"
Me: "Buttermilk. With the milk. In the dairy section. Go."
Mum: [side eye. peaces out]
Of course, dear reader, what I knew was that when she asked for Baking Powder Biscuits she meant Buttermilk Biscuits. She doesn't like Baking Power Biscuits because they are "dry and tasteless." It's the Buttermilk ones she likes. She saw baking powder, thought biscuits, and here we are, and because I am a smart Beetle I knew what to do. I'm totally like Helen Mirren in Gosford Park who is "the perfect servant" because she knows what people want before they themselves do. Minus the whole servant thing, totally me.
It was an opportune time to make them actually because it was another GIRLFRIEND WEEKEND meaning my friend Becks (like Posh and Becks except this Becks is a)female b)not an international football star c)not married to an ex-Spice Girl and d)one of my besties) was coming up and in celebration I wanted to make something hedonistic but hedonistic in a Martha-Stewart-summery-comfort-food kind of way. And biscuits seemed the perfect thing.
Obviously if I want to make something that classic, I'm going to turn to my amazing New American Cookbook (discussed previously here) which, bless it, features 15 different variations on your basic biscuit. Yes, some of them are scary and weird (I'm looking at you, Cream of Tartar Biscuits and, um,wtf, Ham Relish Biscuits) but I also can't imagine turning down either a Sweet Potato or a Bran Butterscotch Biscuit. I mean, what kind of person could do that?
I love that these aren't even called "Buttermilk Biscuits." Nope. You want old school? These are "Sour Milk Biscuits." Because that's how Yankees roll.
SOUR MILK except no because that sounds gross so BUTTERMILK BISCUITS
(slightly adapted from the book to remove shortening and "soda" which . . . whatever)
INGREDIENTS
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 4 tsp baking powder
- 1 tsp salt
- 2 tbs butter
- 3/4 cup buttermilk
Sift flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl. Rub in butter with fingertips. Stir in buttermilk and mix to a soft dough. (It will be very squishy but not that sticky.) Roll out onto slightly floured board to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut with a biscuit cutter and bake in a quick oven (450 F) 10 to 15 minutes.
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| Just before being popped into MY QUICK OVEN. |
BEETLE NOTES
First. I *super heart* the fact that they use "quick oven" because its one of those period details that makes me crazy happy. I love it. The adjective usage before "oven" in this book is one of the greatest literary experiments of all time. Just looking at the open book next to me right now, we've got: quick, hot, moderate, and pre-heated (interesting, as opposed to . . . ?) Also, the temperature definitions of the aforementioned are totally not consistent. A "quick" oven can range from 400 - 450 degrees, a "hot" from 375 - 425, a "moderate" from 350 to 400. Sometimes they don't even give you the degree equivalent, you just have to guess. Which at least makes it fun. Am I going to burn the house down today or not? Let's find out! Whee!
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| I did not, for the record. |
As I mentioned above, I don't know what "soda" is and therefore there's no way we have it in the house. So I decided that I would just increase the baking powder by 1 tsp (as per the Baking Powder Biscuit recipe right next to it) and hope for the best.
And, duh, no shortening. I know, I know, a surprising number of Yankees actually do swear by it for pie crusts, etc., and there is a pretty vociferous argument out there that it's the only way to do certain baking correctly. But I can't get on the shortening train. It just . . . it looks like industrial waste, you guys, I'm sorry. It freaks me out. I just imagine that when you die of fatty degeneration of the heart (which of course you will) whatever builds up in your valves and stuff is literally the same texture and colour as Crisco. It LOOKS like the contents of a clogged artery. I'M SORRY.
I just switch it out for butter every time and damn the culinary consequences. Moving on.
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| I mean I guess they could be called "drop biscuits?" Or "shaped and carefully placed biscuits?" |
I also totally did not feel like getting out my pastry mat and rolling and re-rolling and cutting and re-cutting and then cleaning flour out of the tile grouting for an hour even though you know you didn't even stand in that part of the kitchen how does that happen. So I just kneaded the dough in the bowl for a bit until it all came together evenly and then ripped off small handfuls and shaped them into what I considered "biscuit-looking" forms.
Before placing on the baking sheets, I dipped them in a little bit of flour to keep them from sticking and also from an aesthetic perspective I feel like biscuits really should have a dusting of flour on them, otherwise they just aren't biscuits. I know you'll agree.
Also must say that these reminded me of baking powder biscuit night at Wellesley, when the entire cross country team would eat pretty much two entire commercial-sized sheet pans of these, slathered in honey, for our dinner. (only when our coach was NOT in attendance, obviously, as they did not in any way fulfill our daily protein requirements) They. Were. The. Best. I miss baking powder biscuit night.
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| [sighs nostalgically] |
And the best thing about these is that they can be toasted for brekkie with butter and/or jam, eaten directly off the baking sheet with your bare hands (if you are a certain Beetle mother) or served up for dessert, as shall become clear, for GIRLFRIEND WEEKEND.
And THAT, dear reader, is my segue. [bows horns to applause]
Poor Becks was SUPPOSED to arrive in Boston at 12.30 but due to an infestation of bus gremlins was significantly later than that. And I felt it was my duty as a bestie to comfort, pamper, and feed her as much as possible. We've all been in the bus gremlin situation. It's up there in terms of unpleasant experiences. She weathered it pretty well I have to say. I would have looked like something out of World War Z, and would probably have been wide eyed, foaming at the mouth, lost the ability to communicate through speech, and be attacking and eating my fellow passengers. She, however, is clearly cooler than me because she seemed pretty blase about the entire thing. But I still decided to feed her as much as possible in the next 48 hours, just to make sure she didn't go for my brains.
GIRLFRIEND WEEKEND KICKOFF SUMMER FRITTATA SUPPER
Blanket apology for all the photos of this. I am sorry that our kitchen looks like the seventh circle of hell from an ambient lighting perspective. It is NOT actually this orange. It's a much warmer, rosier glow in reality, but if I use the flash then everything just comes out looking like cat vomit and nobody wants that. So I guess if you don't mind pretending you are in Corsica or something . . . ? Yeah? Thanks.
INGREDIENTS
- 8 eggs, beaten
- 1 medium onion, diced
- 1 cup torn spinach leaves or mixed greens
- 2 cups (roughly) cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
- 2 links vegetarian sausage, sliced
- fresh thyme
- olive oil, salt, pepper
- Shredded Parmesan cheese
Make the filling first. Pour the olive oil in a large frying pan, get it hot, and add the onion, cooking about 5 minutes until it starts to soften. Add the sausages, cook a few minutes more.
Add the tomatoes, salt, pepper, thyme, and cook for a bit more until the tomatoes have reduced and lost some of their juices. Add the spinach last as it will cook super fast, and keep stirring. Add more oil as necessary.
Reduce the heat, spread the filling out over the bottom of the frying pan. Slowly pour the beaten eggs over the filling, trying to get it as evenly covered as possible. Tilt the pan back and forth if you need to, and keep tilting it to let the uncooked egg run into little non-egg places if necessary. Sprinkle salt, pepper, more thyme, and cheese on top.
Let that sit and cook for about 10 minutes. Keep running your spatula underneath the edges to keep it from sticking, and also to check how brown it is. When it's golden on the bottom, put it in the broiler for 3-4 more minutes until the top is browning and crackly. Feel free to add more cheese at ANY point during this. You can cook it into the filling too, obviously.
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| Sliced perfectly. Glorious. |
I just served it straight out of the pan onto the plate, and it cut into really nice slices. If you are more cultured than I am, slide it out onto a serving dish and do it that way.
If for some reason it's still runny when you slice into it, just stick it back in the broiler for a few more minutes until it firms up. (I'm assuming here that you are not one of those complete moral wasteoids who like runny eggs because that would be awkward and unfortunate for us both.)
This is one of those awesome summer dishes that can be made in 15 minutes, can use pretty much anything in the fridge, can be served hot or cold, made vegetarian or non, and, I mean, come on, pretty much EVERYONE likes eggs. Plus eggs for dinner is just . . . awesome. ALSO I know it's a lot of eggs, and a lot of frittata, but it keeps really well in the fridge, and I don't think anyone in the history of the world has ever turned down leftover cold frittata the morning after. It would be like, I don't know, hating kittens or something. Just not done.
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| I repeat. Eggs for dinner = Awesome. |
Annnnnd if there is a better way to finish off a delicious summer veggie egg-based dinner than watching Miss Congeniality and eating Strawberry Shortcake, I WOULD SERIOUSLY LIKE TO KNOW WHAT IT IS.
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE
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| Come on, you knew where I was going with this. |
IS there a more classic summer dessert? Maybe a draw with Blueberry Pie . . . but really, no. And we had the biscuits . . . IT WAS FATE.
ALSO DEAR READER. BEETLE ANNOUNCEMENT.
FOR THE TWO PEOPLE READING THIS WHO DON'T KNOW ME PERSONALLY.
From mid-July to mid-August I will be posting (hopefully) but probs not "cooking posting" as I will be TEACHING WRITING in upstate New York. I got the gig back in May, but if I've failed to mention it until now it's because I black out with joy every time it comes up. It's a month-long Writer's Retreat for teen girls where I shall attempt to instill in them the wisdom of my nearly-thirty years. We will be covering Creative Writing, Blogging, Poetry, College Essays (blah) and a few other things. I gotta tell you I am having SO MUCH FUN coming up with exercises and lesson plans. Should it feel this fun to work? Should it?
I will also be a dorm head, so imagine Princess Diaries 2 when they slide down the palace stairs on mattresses, and that's pretty much what's going to happen when I'm on duty. SO. I'll put up a few little brain dumps when I can, and perhaps if the girls in my dorm and I have a baking party then that'll go up too. But I'll be back at the farm and cooking again, before Labour Day never fear.
And omg you guys it's the 4th of July on THURSDAY which means relatively patriotic food (read: cornbread) but also getting out our Union Jack tea towels and commemorative Coronation mugs and spoons and having a vaguely (ok pretty) monarchistic Independence Day. As we do.
We will watch National Treasure and National Treasure 2: Book of Secrets, though, that has to count for something. Nothing says "Yay America" like Nicolas Cage deciphering Masonic scrolls. NOTHING.
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