I am an American. I say that proudly, and I will never give up my American citizenry. I may end up moving to Scotland, but I will go back and forth as long as I can, and I will always be a Southern American woman when someone inevitably asks me where I'm from. They can't not ask; (double negative) it's in my voice, it's in my actions, it's in my demeanor - - making me a bit de-meaner than some I suppose.
Having fallen in love with Scotland, and all things connected to the great country, I can't help but want to visit it as often and for as long as I can each time I go. I can't tell you the heartbreak that happens when I have to leave it. I implode to a degree. My daughter has a VR set and she'll look up videos and 360s of Scotland and I'll just sit there for 15-20 minutes and stare - - wish, dream, think.
Today, because I'm so very connected to all of my roots, I decided to make a great Southern breakfast for myself and think of all the Scots who would pay me good money to bring this particular meal to their neck of the woods. I made myself biscuits and sausage gravy. Now, in the US when you say "biscuits and gravy" it's always (almost always) assumed that the gravy will have pork sausage in it. Mine is a bit different. I put a little gravy in the sausage. I'm going to pile that sausage pretty dern high up on top of my biscuits and you'll see the gravy of course, but you'll know the main characters for sure. For me, and maybe it's because I'm not only a Southern woman but also an Oklahoman, I will pile that sausage right up there.
I tried a dozen times to make scones, I promise you I did, but it just never worked for me. I wanted to do it - - I did. I followed YouTube videos and I watched so carefully. I read up on it, I Pinterested the subject, but no matter what, my Southern oven just wouldn't do it. The ingredients just felt too close to those of a good old-fashioned biscuit, so that's what comes out of my oven each and every time I tried to scone it up for good measure. I have come to grips with it; I may be 48% Scottish, and even another 47% English, but I am 100% Okie, and there's just not going to be a high-topped floured treat in my life...unless I buy it.
So, today, and other days, I decided to make biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. I have the cutest little tiny food processor that processes the one cup of flour and 4 tablespoons of butter that I need to make 8 good round biscuits. I added the other ingredients as well, but of course, the milk comes last. I really do prefer the food processor to me trying to fight the slicing and the blending. It's more even, and though my Granny and my Aunt Wilma may give me a stare or two from above, I'm satisfied that some things are better in 2024 than they were in say...1924.
I will say that I remember my Granny being able to make taller biscuits than me, but I was quite a bit younger at the time, so maybe it's just a visual perception. I don't know. What I do know, is that I can't scone for anything. I just can't. I have given it my last go - - until I decide to try again and become just as disappointed as I usually do. The thing is, I wanted to make scones so I could say I did it - - and to be able to split one in half without it falling apart. You can't do that with a biscuit, not a good biscuit. They crumble when you try. That's the basic difference I suppose.
Maybe my biscuits have more flour. I could play around with that, but in the end, it's the same. I like thinking of scones with clotted cream and jam, and I end up doing the clotted cream and jam, but only with biscuits, and it's not as "regal" or pretty. It's flatter and more crumbly - - broken up and pathetic really. They do taste good. I will say that, the biscuits with the clotted cream and jam do taste good -- they just won't win any awards for aesthetics. My biscuits and sausage gravy may not win any beauty contests either, but I will say that mine are better looking than those that have only bits of sausage in the mix - - yeah buddy!
So, there you go - - ask me -- I'll tell you, I was born in the United States of America, right in the middle of Oklahoma City. I was raised in a good old-fashioned Baptist home (we eat a lot) that believes in being able to make food for the congregation from an early age. I was under the age of 10 I know, when Aunt Wilma dragged me into the basement kitchen of the 40th Street Baptist Church to peel potatoes and boil them. She would have tanned my hide if I had cut myself too; just telling you the truth. No blood in the water! She would have spanked me good if I had bled without permission!
Growing up in the South (Southwest) meant that we ate a lot of biscuits. We ate them with gravy, with butter, with jam, with bacon, with meals, with eggs, and just all by themselves. There are few ingredients, and they're cheap to make. A good biscuit can last a week if the weather isn't too hot outside; but you do have to sort of heat them up now and again - - please don't tell my Aunt or my Granny that I use the microwave and a wet paper towel to make that happen. I think Granny put a damp cloth over the pan and let it steam the biscuits on lower heat.
There you go - - Scones will be purchased or eaten if someone else can make them. They will be gloriously appreciated as well. I don't have to worry if anyone likes my biscuits. I never have a single one to heat up again unless I'm making them for myself. I can't seem to use less than a cup of flour, which makes about seven or eight. I've been on the other end of that where we used over 10 pounds of flour to cook enough for all the people at the church who were counting on the kitchen ladies to feed them on any particular Wednesday night. I miss those days. I really do.
Photo Credit: Me. (The gravy back there only has a bit of sausage now, I added much more later)
No comments:
Post a Comment