These cheddar-scallion biscuits from Serious Eats are my new jam. The scallions in our garden from last spring are still going strong, although they have flowered. I use 2 cups of flour and it’s still a pretty wet dough. I also added half a teaspoon of dried dill, because dill is good. A batch of these biscuits doesn’t last more than a day around here (largely due to the fact that I eat them constantly).
Made these last night, but my biscuit mojo was AWOL. The butter got too melted (don’t ask), too much milk, shouldn’t’ve tried using part whole wheat, something. They weren’t bad, just not light and fluffy as I’d’ve liked them to be.
We also made meatloaf (not Meatloaf), one of the foods I learned at my mother’s knee, and one for which I have and will never use a written down recipe. I will do many things for food, but I won’t do that. I consider myself lucky that although my mom abandoned her mother’s homecooking habit for daily life, some things, for the rare occasion, were passed down: I can roast a turkey, loaf a meat, bake a cake (thanks dad for that one), and have the best recipe for potato blob rolls in the USA. I have *someplace* to start from, some foods that are “mine”, in my heritage, my family, my childhood, my bones. How many people lack this, cultural connection and practical competence both, because of time crunch, TV dinners, foods falling out of fashion, assimilation, or assumptions that “you don’t need to know this, you’re a BOY”?
It’s not that homecooking is morally superior, much less would I agree anyone is a “bad mom” for not, but something is lost when we let go of this, of how to feed ourselves and our community. I’m glad I have Trader Joe’s oven-bake orange chicken for when we just don’t want to cook, glad I have the internet and a world’s worth of new recipes to play with, but, malign this boring brown mound as you will, I’m glad I have this, too.