When I was in Nashville a few years ago, our son took us to a breakfast spot called Biscuit Love. This weekend, I had my own Biscuit Love experience.
When the kids come home, I love nothing more than creating a nice breakfast, setting a pretty table, and starting the day out with good food and good talk. This Saturday Mackensie was home, so I decided to cook up some biscuits, eggs, and sausage. I began by gathering all of my ingredients and tools. I reached up in the cabinet and pulled down the Callie’s Southern Biscuit Mix that my sister gave me when she came up from Charleston recently. The addition of cream cheese seems to make these biscuits incredibly light and moist. I grabbed the white bowl – my favorite mixing bowl with a rubber ring on the bottom that holds the bowl in place while you mix – given to me by my mother years ago. Then I grabbed the large wooden board that we use for everything from biscuits to Thanksgiving turkey, and the pastry rolling pin that Mackensie gave me when she returned from a trip to Provence. It is blue, yellow, and white, with that beautiful Provencal flower pattern, and it is the perfect tool for biscuit dough rolling.
I put the biscuit mix in the bowl, cut in the butter and cream cheese, create a well in the flour mixture and add the buttermilk until the dough is sticky. I stir and kneed. I flour the board and roll out the dough. As I flour the wine glass and begin cutting the biscuits, I have a memory of my father doing exactly the same thing for so many of the Sunday breakfasts he made for me when I was a child. He would cut each biscuit out just perfectly. I cut out my biscuits as carefully as possible, re-roll the dough, cut out more, until there is just a small lump of dough left. I take that little lump of dough and put it into a small dish. When my youngest daughter is around, she loves to snack on this little piece of raw dough, so I take a picture and send it to her. I place the biscuits in the oven, set the timer, and prepare to scramble the eggs following the system that my mother used to make the best scrambled eggs imaginable.
As I set the table on the back porch with flowered napkins and our orange, green, and blue fiestaware plates, I am struck by how this morning’s breakfast-making has connected me with so many of the people and memories I love. I guess that’s why I love nothing better than to make breakfast for my family on a Saturday morning.
The biscuits are lightly browned, the eggs are scrambled, and the sausages are cooked. The three of us gather around the table to enjoy some Biscuit Love.