Try, try again....

Weekends. Oh how I love weekends. Especially after trying weeks. This week was definitely one of those trying weeks, so on Sunday I decided to TRY something again. I was going to attempt buttermilk biscuits.

Now to some people, they look at this as a simple task. Me on the other hand, I find it a challenge. Really anything that has to do with baking is a challenge. My mother was always the one who could get in the kitchen and make yeast rolls and all that fun stuff with such ease. Thank goodness for birthdays when she has to do as I please and make fan tans or even better, poppy seed cake with that delicious orange glaze. MMMM!!!

Simple as it sounds, buttermilk biscuits have few ingredients. Just flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, butter and a little bit of lard with buttermilk. It is the humidity that can ruin these or...in my case...the fact of overworking the dough. I was lucky enough that the dough came out looking pretty good with nice give. But that leads up to the hard part. The cooking process.

My oven had been preheated to 450 degrees and was just crying for the biscuits, as I debated opening up the can that I had in the fridge and trying to pass those off as 'homemade'. Curses, Mike would be able to tell the difference and I have to keep going. I came this far. Slowly, but reluctantly, I slid the pan in and set the timer that would count down to the fate of my biscuit making skills.

In the mean time, I distracted myself by making hubbies favorite breakfast food. Sausage gravy that would accompany the biscuits. Drat, the biscuits. No...can not open the oven, let the heat stay. Let them rise and gain in all the beauty that is fresh biscuits. The smell of simmering sausage took over the air and therefore took my mind away from what sat in the oven.

*Beep, beep* What is this noise that is invading my sausage dream. OH! the time is going off. Now...the moment of truth. Did I succeed in my little adventure, or did I fail and cause the biscuits to come out flat and dense.

To my surprise, I had gorgeous little dumplings staring back at me from the oven. The smell of buttermilk smacked me in the face with a bit of heat from the oven. Oh, but was it worth it. I was giddier than a school girl though. I had gotten them to a gorgeous golden brown, but the true test. The taste test.
I sat my guinea pig...I mean, hubby down with a fresh plate of biscuits and gravy. First bite...to torture me, he let it linger. Not nice. But to my joy he was really satisfied! I then had to have a bite. And wow...with some strawberry jam and butter, they really hit the spot! I could not have been happier. Needless to say, I had to puff my chest out the rest of the day, just elated at my creation. *sigh*

With all said, done and devoured, I cleaned up my area where I created a masterpiece in my eyes The finaly thought came down to the count of biscuits left. The recipe made a dozen, Mike had 3, I had 1 but I only have 7 left on the cooling rack? Here kitty, kitty, kitty, want to tell me why you are licking your paws in satisfaction?