Requiem for a Biscuit

Why did no-one slip me a biscuit while I was away? Not even one gravy soaked crumb passed my lips. I left longing, and landed back on home turf committed to the production of not one but two major biscuit constructions:

1. Mutton biscuits, the old dear slow cooked in red wine, with garlic and herbs. The marrow scraped from the bones, smeared down with some sriracha and smeared on the biscuits lids. I used buttermilk biscuits for this meat-up, because they have a reticent acidity that complements the ageing sheep’s damp hay qualities.(in other words ‘the funk’). The biscuits came out looking and feeling quite smooth. They were nice to handle, and gave you a confidante bite. If that sounds dorky, well, think about how many times you eat a biscuit and are left with crumbling chaos; a mess of biscuits bits and meat sauced offerings scattered across the plate. If this happens to you I recommend making buttermilk biscuits.

2. These 2nd termers were rolled baking powder biscuits. As always I wanted to try pump them up a little higher,  so I added another half a tbsp of baking powder to the mix, and prayed they would rise in a favourable manner. The homemade country sausage was cram full of seasonings and a stronger biscuit like the buttermilk one from earlier would make the bite a bit too heady. With the ceremonial opening of the green tomato relish, it was finally time to taste how the pickling had gone. It had some freakin’ bite, not a snack to stick a spoon into at the 3am witching hour. Have it with something, have it with a biscuit. Although next time I’ll reach for a milder pickling vinegar.

“G.N.”– Check out more biscuit making naivety here: https://thebrokenspork.com/tag/biscuits/

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Categories: Dishes

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