Biscuits were almost a daily staple for breakfast as I was growing up. We loved the Southern delicacy that was soft on the inside with a crust browned to perfection. Momma was from Tuscaloosa Alabama and could make the best scratch biscuit you have ever put into your mouth. I have vivid memories of her teaching me how to make them. I can hear her voice as if it was happening today, “Janet Renee, get into this kitchen and help your momma.”
She would start with
some flour, and I mean some, because momma never measured anything. Then
she would make a well in the middle of the flour and add her oil. To this she
began pouring in the goodness of buttermilk. Oh my! This is what gives them the
amazing flavor! Swirling round and round she would stir not with a spoon but
with her hand. She would make it into the most beautiful mound of soft, supple
dough you have ever seen. She would pinch off about a hand full and shape them
somewhat into a biscuit. A greased cast
iron pan would hold the creation and into a very hot 450-degree oven they went.
The aroma of hot biscuits baking and strong black coffee brewing is a comfort
akin to being all wrapped up in your coziest blanket and sitting by a wood
burning fire. In just minutes we would
be putting a slab of butter in them with jelly oozing out all around the edges.
On those special occasions where we had visited my dad’s
relatives in Shreveport Louisiana we would return home with dark cane syrup.
This combination was something close to Heaven, I am sure! I guess my most
favorite way of having them served to me and one of my earliest memories is
sweetened coffee milk with a biscuit in it. We would eat it with a spoon to
make certain we got every last drop of this perfection. Daddy never gave it a
second thought giving his little ones coffee. It was part of his culture
growing up in Spanish Lake, Louisiana and he passed it on to us kids. I can
hear him saying, “It is good” in his best Cajun accent. We loved it!
So, my memories flooded me this morning as I was standing in
my kitchen making momma’s scratch biscuits. I miss momma and daddy terribly and
it is so odd that they are no longer part of my life. I can still feel their
love as I remember those mornings around our kitchen table. The many things
that they taught me will live on through my children. I can see myself with my
little grand daughters step by step showing them how to make momma’s scratch
made biscuits, as we reminisce about days gone by!
Proverbs 17:6 (NIV)
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents
are the pride of their children.
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