I’m pretty sure there’s a law somewhere that states that if you’re in a cabin in the middle of the woods, you have to bake biscuits in a cast iron with fluffy socks on.
I did just that this past weekend when Josh, Amelia and I headed to Big Bear for the Valentine’s Day/President’s Day weekend situation.
I found this old, cozy cabin on AirBnB and booked it a month ago, when snow had just fallen and I was dreaming of a very snowy time. Unfortunately temperatures have warmed and a lot of the snow melted but it didn’t stop me from making a cozy ass breakfast for two (errr…three bc Amelia had half a biscuit).
Look at her in this parka. I mean….she hates me/it but also she loved the snow. I’d turn around and find her with her head buried in the snow and trying to bite it.
I’ve always loved flavored butters. I think it all started as a teenager when we’d get bagels at our tennis tournaments and there were always some sort of flavored cream cheese and butters. It was usually the honey butter that’d lure me in. And I’d be there all lady-like in my tennis skirt, smothering way too much honey butter on this un-toasted (the worst!) bagel. The butter made everything better. As it usually does.
My flavored butter love affair continued in the PANCAKES book. One of my favorite recipes in that book isn’t a pancake recipe, but actually the recipe for Berry Butters. That recipe goes something like this: you mash up berries, fold them into softened butter and add a few pinches of salt. The berries are very present in the butters and it’s nice.
Drop biscuits are the lazy person’s biscuits. That’s how they should be advertised. There’s no kneading, no rolling out, no cutting out. No nothing. Just mix, drop and bake.
I’m currently in hardcore planning mode for my boyfriend’s birthday bbq this weekend. He wanted something low-key with just his closest friends and family so I said, OK, but I’m going to create a Pinterest board and maybe get a little psycho about the decorations because I’m me! He’s breaking out the smoker to smoke some pulled pork and beans and of course I’m making biscuits, Arnold Palmers and putting together a Bloody Mary Bar.
I was playing around with some other ideas besides my favorite classic biscuit recipe. I wanted something that had a bit funkier taste and I love the salty bacon.
A few weeks ago I was in the passenger seat, staring at Amelia’s reflection in the side mirror. Half of her body was hanging out of the window, tongue wagging in the wind and she was so content and so so silly looking. I was jealous. I turned around and roughly pet her on her head and told her she was cute and that her ears were so big that she should be embarrassed.
In that moment I decided to see what all the fuss was about and rolled down my window, took my seatbelt off and stuck my head out the window. And you guyssss….it felt amazing. The cool autumn-ish wind was delicious. I turned my head behind me to see Amelia looking at me with a bit of confusion but I think deep down she was like, I told you so.
I feel a little at one with my demon-corgi-pile-of-cuteness so I decided to whip her up some treats with some extra pumpkin I had in the fridge. If you’re at all baking or cooking with pumpkin, you’ll notice that most recipes don’t call for a whole can, which leaves you with a good amount of pumpkin that has no purpose. This recipe is perfect for that!
When I was a kid my mama would buy a big flat of strawberries for like $4 from the local strawberry stand. My brother and I’d sit on the porch with a can of Redi-Whip and eat strawberries and whipped cream until our fingers turned red. It was the only time my mother would buy whipped cream and I was a child obsessed. The can would appear in our fridge on a Friday and by Saturday it was loooong gone.
When it was way past my bedtime, I was known to sneak into the kitchen and steal mouthfuls of whipped cream. My attempts were never stealth-like, mainly because that dang compressed air made SO much noise. She’d usually hear it from the other room and always yell, asking what I’m up to.
Oh Amelia Bedelia, my little demon-corgi-love-child, you!
Now that I’ve lived with a puppy for 14 days, I feel like I can speak as a half-way authority on them. Here are a few notes/thoughts:
1. You will drop serious dollars on puppy toys, beds, treats, etc…and then they’ll become fascinated with empty water bottles, your shoe laces, your scarves and your first adult couch. Their mission with all of these objects, that you love and adore, is to destroy them. DE-STROY.
2. You will let your puppy sleep in your bed because “it’s so cute OMG!” and then it will sleep on your head and on your pillow. Oh and puppies don’t sleep in. No. Never. They’ll wake you up at 6:30am every morning BY NIPPING AT YOUR FACE.
3. You will take your puppy outside to do its business, you’ll come back inside thinking you’re the owner of the year for tending to this lil’ thing so diligently, you’ll turn your back and then…BOOM! accident on the carpet. DUDE!
4. You will wake up one morning, make the little creature treats, it will smell the peanut butter and follow you around everywhere. You will bake them, allow them to cool and give your little animal a try; her wiggling little (non-existent corgi) tail will tell you she’s excited and she’ll eat the treat so vigorously that you’ll forget her puppy-terror ways. Perfect.
I often times imagine how I’ll be as a grandmother. And seeing as I’m not married, nor have kids of my own, I’ll admit it’s a lil’ weird of me to plan how I’ll be with my hypothetical children’s children. I understand this. But hear me out…
I’ve decided that I’m gonna be a super chill grandma. Like, my grandkids are gonna come to my house and know they can get away with murder. I don’t wanna just be “the good cop” I wanna be the burglar alongside them, you know?
Oh mom doesn’t want you sucking on that pacifier anymore because you’re three and it’s embarrassing? Here, go to town…do it while watching Elmo, too. I don’t care, no judgement from me, dude.
Oh dad thinks it’s time for you to give up the bottle and move up to a sipee cup? Listen, you’re only three once. I mean…it’s not like you can suck on a bottle when you’re 25 and not have people think you’re way crazy, you know, so get in on it now.
The only thing I’m absolutely going to insist on is teaching them how to make homemade biscuits. It’s an important life skill…I think.
In the first season of Felicity (yes, I’m re-watching it right now AND loving it), Ben Covington (Scott Speedman) says that everyone is good at three things. Three things! So, I asked myself: What three things am I good at?! I thought long and hard about these answers; here they are:
1. I’m a good daughter. I call my parents, include them in my life (despite us living across the country from one another), I listen to them, and make time them. Because, as I’ve learned over the years, all parents really want is time.
2. I’m a really good girlfriend. And a really really bad ex-girlfriend. Like, I might throw out your clothes/DVDs/electronic equipment that you leave at my house. Might. Whatevs!
3. I’m a very good biscuit creator/dreamer/taster/eater. I wasn’t born this way. No. My talent for making biscuits comes from just straight obsession. No talent needed, just facts and a few tips and tricks.
My love for biscuits is well documented on this here corner of the internet that is A Cozy Kitchen, but I wasn’t always good at making them. I actually remember making my first batch of biscuits in college and remember them being flat, sort of bland and dry. Now, they’re tall, flaky, buttery and kind of amazing.
Biscuits are rarely dessert. WHY? They’re too delicious not to be dessert, amirite? Of course I am.
I decided to take these unjust matters into my own hands and make biscuits more like chocolate cake, but still biscuits. Do you see what I’m doing here?
When I set out on this journey, I figured I’d just make chocolate biscuits, smother them with butter, say it’s breakfast/dessert and call it a day. But then I peeped in the fridge and spotted some near-dying strawberries and whipped cream that was flirting with its expiration date, sooo…it became quite clear that I just needed to make a chocolate rendition of Southern strawberry shortcake.
This is typical of how kitchen awesomeness happens for me: a mishmash of refrigerator stragglers just trying to find a place in this world.