This is in honour of all biscuit lovers, however you like them.
They remind me of the southern United States, and my grandmother's long soft drawl. My mom makes them for dinner with white flour and all the butter required; she's damn proud of them, cause they taste like her mom's, maybe even better. My dad makes them for breakfast with spelt flour and 3/4 of the butter required; he's damn proud of them cause he doesn't need as much butter for them to be delicious. I beg both of them equally to make biscuits at any time of day or year.
Since it's Sunday, I made Kelsey's biscuits this morning. I recently started a summer class in translation, but because I'm translating into french instead of into english (McGill makes you translate towards both languages - ultimately a good thing) it's excruciatingly difficult and I've spent a good part of my week very worried. So I haven't given myself the quality Judy time that I usually try to. A long morning of first yoga, then a big bowl of yogurt, then flaky warm biscuits smothered in jam and honey, with Greg Brown's "The Live One" playing on the stereo, was very necessary.
I'll just add that I substituted equal parts spelt flour and buttermilk for the white flour and milk. Yes, I used the same amount of butter; I guess I kept the best of both worlds from old mom and pop.
Hey Kelse! Just use your fingers to incorporate the butter. In biscuits I like bigger than smaller chunks 'cause they're flakier. If you use really cold butter, it works. Who needs food processors anyways?