Of Boys and Biscuits
First cup of coffee, almost gone. Time to start breakfast. What to have? With David home, it better be good. Filling. Full of nutrients and something that will stick to the ribs a while. Biscuits. The boys love helping to make biscuits, and unlike pancakes, they can't help cook them. That saves on clean up work... Biscuits and eggs it will be. Better get some breakfast steaks out too, and a can of peaches. Make that two cans. Fall is coming, and we still have plenty of fruit from last year, with fresh fruit most of the summer.
Oh good! The sun is coming out. We will be able to till the garden today! Is that the tractor I hear? Good. Hubby has the same idea.
"Who wants to help make biscuits?"
"I do!" Lief yells, as he runs into the kitchen.
"Me too!" Kaycee declares, as he skids into the room.
"Okay, wash your hands," I instruct them, getting out a bowl and the lard. It is so nice to have lard that I clarified myself. I know exactly what is in it and that the word 'Hydrogenated' does not apply to what I am feeding my family. Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, I scoop out approximately 2/3 of a cup and shake it off into the bowl. The boys return, ready to work. Leif gets out the biscuit cutter as I scoop 4 cups of whole wheat flour, 2 cups of white flour and 1/2 cup sugar into the bowl. He begins to cut the lard into the flour as I add some salt and baking soda.
"See, Kaycee, you do it like this," Lief explained to Kaycee, slowly pressing the cutter to the bottom of the bowl, using a rocking motion to reach the bottom of the bowl. Then he takes a step to one side, and does it again. "See? It cuts up the lard makes the flour sticky." He taps the excess off, steps to the side, and begins cutting again.
"Me." Kaycee declares, reaching for the cutter.
"Okay," Leif says, cheerfully handing it over. "Just be careful. Mommy does not like it when we spill."
Kaycee presses the cutter down through the flour, a grin on his face. He is helping! He is making breakfast for daddy! Again and again he presses the cutter through, Lief observing his move and helping to turn the bowl, since Kaycee insists on standing in one place.
Soon the flour is thoroughly mixed with the fat and ready to become dough. "Mommy, we are ready for you! You can do the rest, and we will watch," Lief tells me.
I add a bit of lemon juice, to activate the baking soda and then stir in water until the dough is soft and sticky but maintains it's shape. Then, with an old fashioned ice cream scoop, I scoop the dough onto a pan. No, this isn't how my mom taught me to make biscuits. This is how I decided to do it, after reading many old recipes. They turn out light and delicious, without use of a rolling pin. They are good the next day, on the rare occasion that any last that long. They need to bake about 15 minutes at 450 degrees. Time to start the steaks and set the table.
As I put the biscuits into the oven, my little boys head to the bathroom to wash up and then out the door to play. I hear them excitedly telling David about thier part in making breakfast. He is proud of them. Tells them what big helpers they are and how much he is looking forward to breakfast. Lief, excited by the praise, comes back into the house to set the silverware on the table and make sure everyone has a special cup. The table has a hodge-podge of mismatched mugs and glasses. The peaches are blessed with a 'fancy' fork -- one that does not match any of the others.
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