Asparagus frittata, buttermilk biscuits.
Biscuit success at long last!
I love biscuits so much. But I am so not southern. No one in my family, immediate or extended or even in-law, ever made biscuits at home (at least not for me). So it has been a long quest for me to figure out how to make biscuits like the ones I've eaten in Virginia and Atlanta and New Orleans.
For a long time, I used Alton Brown's biscuit recipe, but they never came out right for me: they didn't rise enough, they weren't light or particularly flaky. I had to double his recipe to get enough for the family. I always thought I was doing something wrong, and if I could just figure out the right technique, his recipe would work for me.
Tonight I made the biscuits I should have been making all along, from the Amateur Gourmet. I should have known. Adam is a Jewish New Yorker! Of course his recipe would work for me! Golden, light, fluffy, and tasty, all on the first try. I didn't even bother taking pictures because Adam's are so great. Thank you, Amateur Gourmet!
But that's not even the best part. This is:
When I announced I'd be making biscuits, Alex, who has been taking a cooking class this week at camp, exclaimed, "I know how to make those!" And he totally did--he knew about rolling the uncooked biscuits in flour, he knew how to place them in the cake pan, and he knew exactly how much butter to brush on top. (Awesome. I have been trying and failing at biscuits for like fifteen years; my six-year-old spends three days at day camp and figures it out.) And then he got the eggs ready, although I put them in the pan to cook. How about that: All of a sudden, I have a kitchen accomplice.