Biscuit Investigation

For the honeys who know a good biscuit is worth a full investigation.

There's a little diner about fifteen minutes from our house, the kind of place that still brings you coffee in those thick ceramic mugs that warm your hands just right. James and I wandered in on a whim after a morning of errands turned into a spontaneous date.

The sign out front said Homestyle Breakfast All Day and that was all the convincing I needed.

We sat down in a booth that had seen a thousand stories before ours-cracked vinyl seats, a sugar caddy that rattled when you touched it, a waitress named Linda who called me "baby" before l'd even said hello. Heaven.

Now listen. I've had a lot of biscuits in my life. I grew up on my mama's, l've baked my own by feel with cold butter and messy hands, and l've sampled plenty that were good. But these? These biscuits made me stop mid-sentence. They were golden but not too crisp, fluffy but not cake-like, salty in that "did they use butter or bacon grease or both?" kind of way.

So naturally, I did what any biscuit-obsessed woman would do-l began a full-scale biscuit autopsy.

James was talking about something-tractors maybe? Or a neighbor's fence? I nodded along, but my focus was locked in. I peeled one biscuit open like an archaeologist on a dig. I sniffed. I squinted. I tasted slowly. I let it sit on my tongue like a sommelier with a fancy vintage. James finally looked over and said, "You're not even listening to me, are you?"

"No," I said, "I'm trying to figure out what the hell is in this biscuit."

He laughed and went back to his coffee while I scribbled notes on a napkin: definitely cake flour, maybe lard, maybe not. Buttermilk for sure. A whisper of sugar. A buttery top that glistened like it had been baptized in something sacred.

By the end of the meal, I was full but not satisfied — not until I cracked the code. So yes, I asked Linda if the cook would share anything. She winked and said, "Just a whole lotta love, baby."

I'm not giving up. I went straight to my kitchen, no apron, flour in my hair, trying to get as close to those diner biscuits as I could. And I figured it out, you know I'll share it here. Because the joy of cooking isn't just about getting it right-it's about being curious, being playful, and being willing to dissect your breakfast in the name of butter and glory.

Stay tuned, honeys.

I think I solved the biscuit mystery.

Fluffy Cake Flour Biscuits

Light as a cloud, golden on top, and dangerously good with a pat of butter.

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Ingredients:

2 cups cake flour (keep a little out just in case)

1 tbsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

sprinkle a little sugar (I use cane sugar)

1 stick of cold butter + 2 tbsp butter for cast iron

1 cup buttermilk

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Instructions:

Preheat oven to 450*

In a bowl, combine flour, salt, baking powder and sugar.

Add the cold, cubed butter to the flour mixture. I use my hands but you can use a pastry cutter, fork or grader to work it in until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs with some pea-sized buts of butter.

Pour the cold buttermilk and stir gently with a spoon or spatula until the dough starts to come together.

Flour your work surface and plop on your dough. Pat it into a rough rectangle, then fold it in half like a book. Repeat this pat-and-fold process 2-3 times. This created those lovely layers.

Pat the dough out to about 1-inch thick. Use a mason jar to cut out those biscuits honey.

Add 2 tbsp butter to a cast iron and preheat it until the butter is good and melted.

Add your biscuits to the cast iron but flop them around in the butter to make sure they are completely covered in butter.

Bake for 12-14 minutes or until the tops are golden brown.

Brush the tops with butter and a little honey, honey.

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Tips:

• Make sure your butter and buttermilk are cold - this helps the biscuits puff up beautifully.

• No buttermilk? Use regular milk with a splash of lemon juice or vinegar.