Biscuits Become Back To Basics Inspiration

I’ve recently become enchanted with the basics. A firm understanding of cooking fundamentals, I’m convinced, will make me a better cook. Many times I have tried to make simple biscuits. Many times I have been unsuccessful. Sure, I was able to make the dough and cut the dough and bake the dough. Never have I been able to produce anything that would be confused with the soft, flaky, buttery biscuits known by anybody who has had the pleasure of putting such goodness on your tongue. Until now.

Whoa now. I haven’t yet perfected biscuits to the point of Paula Deen but I am approaching that what has been illusory.

It all starts with a basic understanding of flour. Without getting too complicated, flour is made up of carbohydrates and proteins. One of the proteins is gluten. In chewy types of bread, gluten is our friend. In flaky baked goods like puff pastry and biscuits, gluten is our enemy. Fortunately there is a solution to controlling the levels of activated gluten. Kneading, or working the dough, activates the gluten protein. The less you work the dough, the less gluten is activated and the flakier the finished product.

Another way to keep the gluten from becoming a burden is to prevent the protein from forming long chains of chewy chow. One means to this end is to introduce a generous amount of fat solids in the form of either butter or shortening. It’s important to keep the fats in solid form. Folding dough by hand is traditional but these days we have a friend to help us fold, the food processor.

I must admit a certain predilection to the primeval processes of cooking. Few endeavors are more satisfying than assembling something with your hands. That’s not to say we should abandon our gadgets. Especially those that help us perfect a process. The food processor, a modern-day miracle, is just such a gadget.

Initially I was wary of using the processor to mix my biscuit and pie dough. I thought of my mother and her mother and her mother before that. They never used a food processor. They did everything by hand. I wanted to do it by hand too. So I tried it. Last week I took a stab at a tarte tatin. As if peeling, coring, and slicing the apples then cooking the sugar down to caramel wasn’t enough I then had to make the dough by hand. The tarte tatin was okay. It would have been much better had the dough been flakier and not as…um…crunchy. At that point I said “never again.” Bust out the food processor.

Yesterday I threw together a bean soup with some already made (by me) chicken stock and some leftover collard green pot liquor. There was some buttermilk in the fridge so I figured flaky buttermilk biscuits would be a solid accompaniment to the soup. I’ll use my new found friend to make the biscuits.

I’ve learned a few things since the tarte tatin. Don’t let your fat melt. One online chef suggests freezing the butter then grate the butter into the flour. I tried that with pie dough a few days ago. It sounds reasonable enough but the act of holding the butter and running it up and down the grater melts the butter in your hand. This would work great if you were in an igloo. Plus the moisture in the butter binds up the grater. I took the chilled butter, cut it into small squares then put it back into the freezer for a few minutes.

Meanwhile I assembled the food processor. Not the monster Cuisinart but the smaller one that fits atop the blender head. Put the slicer blade in that baby and you’re ready to rock. With the dry ingredients mixed up (flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, maybe some sugar), I was ready for the butter. Don’t get impatient and just dump all the butter on top of the flour and whirl away. Take a little time to add the butter in stages. Pulse a few times, add more, pulse some more until all the fat is incorporated. It doesn’t take long with the miracle of the food processor.

Some recipes say to then turn the buttery dough out into a bowl and add the cold water or buttermilk by hand. I didn’t. I added the chilled buttermilk to the processor, pulsed, added more, pulsed, until the dough was just about done. I then turned it out onto the counter for one last fold with the remaining buttermilk. Remember, the less kneading the less gluten and the less probability you will melt the fat with the heat of your hands. If you’re going to be obsessive-compulsive, now is the time!

I remember watching Martha Stewart make buttermilk biscuits. She was oh so proud of her biscuits. The problem was, they looked…they looked…like…um…little piles of dog turd. Seriously. Martha’s biscuits looked like turds. There was little uniformity and they looked like they were crunchy and not good. She then showed how she made them and I realized why.

You know how when you get a biscuit and how you break it apart with your hands it separates nearly perfectly? There is a reason for that. The reason is in the preparation of the dough. Think of the divine thin ribbons of puff pastry. It’s made that way by rolling thin sheets of dough then placing them one on top of the other and rolling thin again. When baked they yield the basis for many wonderful culinary delights. A similar technique is necessary to create the perfect biscuit though much less time consuming.

Turn your dough out on the counter or the slab or whatever it is you’re using. Of course the surface is floured. Roll it out or form it out with your hands. I prefer to use a roller. Remember, the colder the better. After rolling out, fold the dough over on itself several times. I like to do it in thirds. Repeat this process several times. What you are doing is building layers of dough separated by a thin dusting of flour.  This is what Martha didn't do.  She just rolled out the dough, cut it and baked it.

In these photos, you can see the various layers of dough.  Regrettably, these biscuits were rolled thin, barely a half-an-inch.  They were also not sufficiently floured when they were folded over to create the layers.  Layering is obvious in these biscuits but in a better formed biscuit, the layers would be much more pronounced.  Each fold should create a tiny little pocket that makes the biscuit light and airy.

When you are finished, roll the dough out to about three-quarters of an inch thickness. Don’t make the mistake of thinking because you need more biscuits you roll them out thinner. If you need more biscuits, make more dough.  With your finger, put a dimple in the middle of the biscuit.  This is an old southern trick that helps to prevent the top being too convex.  It's merely an appearance thing but as you may know, image is everything.  And don't collect up all the scraps, put them together and roll out again to make more biscuits.  That little bit of fussing will toughen your dough.  Just cut the scraps into fun shapes and bake with the rest of the lot.  When you're done with the main dish, put the scraps out for leftovers.  If you did it right, nobody will care about the oddly shaped beautifully flaky, buttery biscuit.  I promise you.
I have seen some recipes call for a brush of butter or egg wash on the top of biscuits. I haven’t found this to be crucial. Even a light egg wash will add unwanted toughness to the outer crust. I have found that a light paint of butter after baking is better than before.

In making a pie crust, you would use water instead of buttermilk.  One tip is to use a cocktail shaker to chill your water.  Put a few cubes in the shaker with the water and do the bartender dance.  Strain the icy water into the dough mix until it's righteous.