I friggin did it.
Did what you ask? Well, you’ll just have to sit tight and read this blog.
So first things first, I am 3 loads deep into laundry and made the donair sauce for supper tonight.
But I wanted to bake. And I had a great idea.
So I go to my trusty recipe box. That I just got that monogram plaque for the other day…it’s pretty snazzy if I do say so myself. I finally get to showcase my pride and joy. My recipe box. Ok, now back to the story.
And say, “recipe box, I’m going to try something new today. What should I do?” And yes, this make me a little bit crazy, talking to my recipe box and all but that’s fine by me. I’ve never been ‘typical’ anyways.
So I open my recipe box.
Look at all those beautiful, very tasty recipes. It’s jam-packed full of goodness and honestly, it’s jam-packed. I often wonder how I can have so many recipes this early in my life. What is it going to be like when I’m a 80 year old Gram?!
So I decide to pull out a recipe for biscuits. Ack. Oh no, not biscuits. I’ve never made them before. It’s hit or miss in my family and Nan is the only one that can seem to pull this off. And even Nan bakes pucks from time to time. “Other” people get hockey pucks. I don’t want hockey pucks.
I think to myself, Should I really attempt this?
Yes. YES! I have to! I have strawberries and whip cream in the fridge and what is more perfect than a homemade Strawberry shortcake. Nothing. So off I go.
I take out all the ingredients and season my rolling pin that I’ve probably only used 2 other times in my life. I blend, I cut, I mix. It’s time to roll out.
Wait a minute. Wait just a minute. How thick am I supposed to roll it? I never thought of this before hand. So I quickly pick up the phone and call my Nan. Ok, got it. Off I go once again.
I roll it out. Place them on my foil-lined tray and put them in the oven. With fingers crossed of course.
So after just minutes in the oven they begin to puff and look like this.
I think this *might* work. But I try not to get too excited because I have no idea how it’s going to go in the long run.
I patiently wait for the timer. It goes off. They’re not ready. Back in. Timer again. Still not ready. Timer. I check the bottoms this time and they are light brown but the tops are no where near golden brown so I knew this was a pivotal moment in my short-lived biscuit baking career. I make the executive decision to turn the stove off of bake and put it on broil to brown the tops. Risque, I know. They could be not cooked on the inside. Oh well. I’m doing it anyways.
I watch and watch to make sure they don’t charr and take them out when I think they are done.
This is what I see.
Ok God. It looks promising. Do I dare touch them.
Of course I do. Soft but firm at the same time.
Ok, now I’m getting excited.
So I take the smallest one. One I *possibly* rolled too thin. And spread some butter and watch it melt. Mmmm…I haven’t had a biscuit, let alone a homemade one, since….since the week of my wedding. When Nan made them each morning for me and the bridal party staying at her place.
So I take a bite.
I did it. Some of them may have browned too much, but whatever, you can’t take my biscuit-baking-glory away from me that easily.
They’ve now cooled off and they are not hockey pucks. Woot! Woot!
Now, if you aren’t excited for me yet or drooling for a biscuit (which might you just a wee bit crazy if I do say so myself) then maybe this will be the nail in the coffin.