This week's TWD was Sweet Potato Biscuits. For me, it was a chance to redeem myself from my failed make-up Monday's biscuits. I gave up on the idea of mixing the butter in with my fingers. I thought last time the heat from my fingers and the time it took to mix it in affected the end result. So I turned to my old trusty stand mixer. By pulsing it, I was able to get the same effect and crumb texture without adding the heat from my fingers.
But honestly, I think two things made these biscuits easier than traditional biscuits - the sweet potatoes and the fact that I didn't really roll them out. I just sort of pressed them out into a circle and cut them.
They puffed up some, not high necessarily, but up, which was a vast improvement from the previous attempt. Not only were these good right out of the oven, they were good the next morning and with dinner tonight, with whipped cream cheese on them. YUM.
This week of biscuits reminds me of a story. My parents are in the same profession. Unfortunately, in the mid-1970s, women were still having a very difficult time in the workplace, particularly the professional workplace. My parents had both just passed the licensing exam. My father had a job but my mother couldn't get a job because she was pregnant with my younger brother. After having my brother in December, my mother was a stay-at-home mother for six months before she found another job.
When asked about that time in her life, she describes it as "the worst six months of her life." She was not cut out to be a stay-at-home mother of a four-year-old (me) and a newborn. (I'm sure it was my brother's fault . . . I was the perfect child.) Since she couldn't find a job, she decided she was going to be a gourmet chef and perfect making biscuits.
I don't know why she chose biscuits. Probably because the ingredients for biscuits are always on hand or because they were relatively quick compared to other baking projects or because they are cheap to make. Anyway, it was a failure. The only things she perfected were gaining weight, being depressed, and yelling at my dad.
It all ended well. She got a job and has worked every day since. I liked having a working mother; she was a great role model. However, she hasn't made biscuits since.
These biscuits might change her mind.
Is this what “me too” is about?
8 hours ago