Morey - Callies biscuits and Southern traditions: heirloom recipes from our family kitchen

Id like to say right off the bat that Im no natural-born biscuit maker. In fact, I never even made biscuits until I was in my thirties. So as you begin to delve into this book and into biscuit making, do not be intimidated by the idea of making amazing biscuits! I know its a clich, but in this case its apt: If I can do it, you can do it.

Growing up, I watched my mother and her mother make biscuits from our family recipe, but Id never made them myself until I twisted my mothers arm into starting a company with me called Callies Charleston Biscuits. Baking was not even something I particularly enjoyed at the time, but I figured I could run the business and sales end of Callies and she could be in charge of the baking. And thats how it went those first couple of years. I would occasionally help out with the biscuit making, but to be honest it was more like going through the motions and doing as I was told rather than putting my heart and soul into it or feeling all that engaged in the process itself.

Then my mom decided to retire.

This had not been a part of my business plan! Suddenly the landscape of the business shifted, and I was going to have to redouble my efforts. But I was the kind of cook who never measured anything, who loved to improvise and experiment. Biscuits require accuracy, uniformity, and repetition. How in the world could I captain the ship when I didnt know how to sail?

So I dug in, scared as hell, and turned to my employees to teach me how to master every aspect of making the absolute best biscuits. With the business on the line, my previous ambivalence about baking turned into a determined passion. I had to become a baker, and so I did. And I found out I loved it. Almost more than running the business. Making biscuits became second nature to me and now its as therapeutic as chopping onions and planning menus always have been. Running the business now, I do not get in there with the bakers as much as Id likebut when I can, I do, and I fit right in. My hands know what to do. And I find myself making biscuits at home with my daughters as well. Before, the thought of making biscuits was daunting, but I now get the urge to make them.

Once you get the technique down, your hands, too, will begin to feel as if theyre moving of their own accord. What at first may seem intimidating and infinitely messy will become ritual... and maybe a little less messy.

Whether Im performing this ritual with my daughters, my mother, or the Callies bakers (my other family!), the process always takes on a life of its own after a while. As we plunge our hands into bowls to work the wet dough and roll it out and line the biscuits across the pans, were telling stories about our day, talking about everything from a recipe conundrum to whom we ran into at the grocery store, and sometimes even airing a grievance or two. When you get to that point with your biscuit making that it becomes almost automatic, youll be able to concentrate less on each step and more on the conversation and togetherness with your family and friends in the kitchen. And youll be able to add your own twist to the technique.

Above all, dont worry. If you follow the steps, you really cant mess up biscuits. Biscuits are forgiving. They will get better the more you make them and the techniques will get easier. Theyre not delicate like a pastry. Its okay if theyre not perfectly round or theyre a little on the big side. So dont put too much pressure on yourself! Enjoy the process and the taste. The presentation will improve.

I eventually felt ready to experiment with my mothers biscuit recipe, and my first success was my black pepper biscuits. Several of the recipes in the chapter on biscuit making are deliberate variations on the original technique passed down to me. Keep repeating the basic process and you can use the dough and the technique as your canvas to create your own family recipes based on your personal palate and favorite ingredients.

My hope for sharing the gift of biscuit making is to bring a little bit of the old-fashioned baking practices from my grandmothers and mother (those techniques I really never thought Id master) to your kitchen counter. Even though youre busy, you can enjoy and share these delicious treats. A biscuit is such a tiny little thing, but it has brought a lot to my life, and I hope it can bring goodness to yours as well. Theres nothing tastier than a hot one right out of the oven, and that taste is enhanced exponentially by the qualitynot necessarily the quantityof time spent preparing it. For me, there is something indescribably rewarding about creating something so wonderful from such simple ingredients. Something that brings a smile to those I love. Its what makes me want to do it over and over again.

Do I ever get sick of biscuits? No. Would it be an exaggeration to say my life revolves around biscuits? I dont think so. Because for me, biscuits are more than just the end product of the hand mixing, rolling, cutting, and baking. Biscuits are a living legacy of my family history and the women whove gone before me, and with each batch of biscuits I make Im refining and passing along this legacy to my daughters. Biscuits and family are as inextricably linked in my life as butter and flour. Put them together and something magical happens.

You could even say that family is the secret ingredient to all my best recipes, not just the biscuits. I like to say, Its all about the food. That all the rest is just extra. But as I thought long and hard about my favorite recipes and techniques and which ones to include in this book, I quickly realized it was people who popped inside my head even before the food. My mothers biscuits, my Mamas pineapple upside down cake, my grandmothers macaroni pie. Even plain boiled shrimp was Dads boiled shrimp. And each recipe brought a story to mind with it. I really couldnt tell you about Dads boiled shrimp without telling you about the time his boat and trailer rolled into the creek pulling my grandfathers station wagon with it, or about my mothers perfect tomato sandwiches without telling you about summers spent at the lake with her and her parents, and my grandfather singing Tony Bennett songs to my grandmother.