Tom Kelly
Editor and Publisher

A year ago in this space, I achieved a minor notoriety among a small group of family and acquaintances by sharing my "recipe" for Thanksgiving turkey dressing. While no one is pushing me to make good on an offhand promise I made for those who survived my cornbread dressing concoction, I did offer to share my Baptist Biscuit formula. So, this being the season when everything is about way too much eating . . . here goes.

Baptist Biscuits? I'm sure that biscuits in general are ecumenical, perhaps even agnostic, and are probably enjoyed by Methodists, Presbyterians, and even a few Lutherans. Catholics? Who knows . . . Pentecostals for sure. But mine are Baptist. This came about while I was spending my proverbial forty days in the desert, way out in Southern New Mexico at Las Cruces during the 1990s, in a fidgety state of "retirement." There came a time when I was convinced to join a weekly men's prayer breakfast at the First Baptist church where I attended more or less regularly. Upon making the first 7 a.m. meeting, I made a remark in jest to one of the guys on the serving line who was handing out what Jerry Clower called "whopping biscuits"--you know, the ones you find in rolled cardboard cans in the dairy case at the supermarket, and open by "whopping" them open on the edge of the kitchen counter. What I said was, "I guess I'll have to come down here and show y'all how to make real biscuits."

Bad move. "When would you like to start?" he said quickly. And so, I was obligated, wasn't I?

This group consisted of probably 30 fellows more or less regularly, and I won't bother you with a recipe for filling a couple of long baking pans with 60 or 80 biscuits. I will tell you that only two or three of them knew what grits were, and so, of course I had to introduce them to that Southern delicacy as well. And that on the morning I stopped by the supermarket to buy a package of grits, and failing to locate them immediately, I asked a young Hispanic stockboy where I might find them. "Grits?" he said with a puzzled look, and shrugged the universal "I haven't a clue" signal. On the next aisle was a young African-American stockboy, who when asked the same question, pointed immediately to the correct shelf. But you didn't have to know that to learn to cook biscuits.

First you have to get your stuff together. (Male readers will understand that the "stuff" includes the ingredients, the utensils, and various peripherals that will come into play.)

The hardware includes a mixing bowl capable of holding about a half gallon of ingredients. (You won't use a half gallon of stuff, but you don't want it spilling out over the sides when you mix it up, do you?)

Also, a small spoon and a large spoon. Recipe books call for "tsp." and "tbsp." but, let's not be too technical.

A coffee mug-type cup for measuring. Mine holds about one-and-a-half real 8 oz. measuring cups full, so if I say two cups of stuff, that's really three cups to the geeks and females who insist on exact measurements.

A cast-iron skillet about 10 inches wide, with a cast iron lid. You can use some other baking pan, but the cast iron holds the heat better.

A biscuit cutter. That's the little round aluminum gadget about three inches wide with a handle on top to stamp out the biscuit dough when you're ready. My mother used to make "fist" biscuits, rolling the dough into a long sausage-like figure and choking off the biscuit dough in "cat-head" sizes, patting each one down to just the right size. But that's old-fashioned and subject to too much improvisation with the size and shape unless you're good at it. She was. I'm not.

Oh, and a stove with an adjustable heat oven. Gas or electric. No one uses stovewood anymore like my mom did in the early years, and that's just as well.

That's about it for hardware. Now for the edible stuff.

Flour (plain, not self-rising). Any good brand is OK; I use Gold Medal "Best for Bread" mostly. Martha White's is good, too, and there are others.

Salt; baking powder (Clabber Girl or Calumet; doesn't matter.)

Olive oil. Or, any of the vegetable cooking oils; take your pick, but I like olive oil. Of course, Mama used pure hog lard, but that's uncivilized these days, even though cooked "fist" biscuits sopped in hog lard are mighty tasty, especially if you've got the hot, fresh cracklin's to munch with it.

Buttermilk. Sadly, no one keeps a cow or churns anymore, so you're stuck with what they call "buttermilk" but really isn't, from the dairy shelf.

One egg. Same deal; get it from the store, not from the nest.

OK, got your stuff together? Here we go . . .

(Oh, light up the oven before you start mixing, and set it for about 400 degrees.)

Put two level mug-cups of flour into the mixing bowl. (Three measuring cups, if you're one of those who must.)
Throw in one small spoon of salt. Don't heap it up. (One tsp., to the geeks.)
Add three heaped up small spoons of baking powder. Got it?
Stir this all up until it's well mixed. Use the big spoon.
Then drop in two big spoons of olive oil--or the other kind if you prefer. No hog lard, please. While you have the oil in hand, spread a couple of squirts in the cast iron skillet, enough to cover the bottom with a good generous coat.
Add the egg. (You understand, you have to break it, and keep the shell out of the mixture, don't you?)
Then the buttermilk, which is one of the mug cups, or one-and-a-half measured cups. If the buttermilk is not too thick, this will be enough. If it's really thick, you may have to add just a touch more after you start mixing. You can tell if the dough isn't moist enough.

Use the big spoon and stir in the mixing bowl until the batch of dough is thoroughly mixed, sticky but not runny (too much buttermilk), and with no pockets of dry flour (add a big spoon of the thick buttermilk if you must).

When the dough is right, sprinkle a generous coating of flour on it, and on the counter top, and on your hands, then use the big spoon to roll it up in a ball and dump it onto the floured counter top or table. Then use your hands to knead and roll the dough into a smooth ball, flatten it out and pat it into a circular shape, about an inch or a bit less thick, about as round as your iron skillet. Take the cutter and stamp out ten dough biscuits, placing them in a circle around the edge of the skillet. Go ahead, push them in; they'll fit. Then rework your dough, and stamp out four more biscuits and stuff them in the open space in the middle. Swipe the biscuits in the olive oil in the skillet to get a coating on both sides as you place them.

Then, into the oven, without the lid on please. It takes 20 to 25 minutes for baking, depending on your oven. Check a couple of times to make sure the tops are browned. (Did I forget to tell you: make sure you have a good pot holder; that skillet handle is gonna be really hot.) When you're satisfied they are baked, take 'em out, dig them out one by one and stick a slab of butter . . . make that margarine . . . inside each one, and begin eating as soon as you like. Put the lid on to keep 'em warm until they are eaten.

And have a Merry Christmas.

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