Do you know how some things require a bit of time and space - and healing, really - to write about them? That's pretty much how I felt about these sweet potato biscuits I made for supper last night.
First off, Chow lists the difficulty level of these biscuits as "Medium." The rate-setter was obviously not comparing the difficulty levels to my usual way of grabbing the bag of Mary B's frozen biscuits and plopping however many I need on to the pan. I understand that. But this recipe I would not even rate medium as to my regular ol' homemade biscuits even.
Sometimes, when you're in the middle of a first attempt at a recipe, you hear voices from your past. Sister Rose in third grade sighing, "You're a smart girl, Shawn, but you need to LOOK before you leap." My fifth grade teacher saying, "If you read the instructions carefully more often, it will make your life easier."
Recipes teach you that knowing the ingredients is not the same as knowing the directions of what you will have to do with those ingredients to actually make it until the end product. It's a mistake I make time and time again - in life and cooking.
Like many plans in my life, halfway through this recipe, I can't even remember why I thought sweet potato biscuits was a good idea. Such a good idea that I planned an entire dinner menu around them. (What's WRONG with regular ol' biscuits, Shawn? You have to bake a sweet potato for an hour here before even getting started.)
I get to the part about flouring and kneading and just can't take it any more. I cry out for help. My poor husband just sees mashed sweet potatoes and bowls of flour and the remnants of my just-before Strawberry Shortcake Ice Cream. "Find me a cup with a three-inch diameter! I had no idea I was going to have to knead and roll these damn biscuits!"
"Did you not read the instructions first?" "We're not gonna talk about that right now. Find me a cup. Pronto."
So I rolled and kneaded these damn sweet potato biscuits and I cut them out and I said to my husband, "These better be the best damn biscuits we have ever put in our mouths. We better be talking about these biscuits a year from now and raving - because we are never, ever having them again."
I then left him to fry the ham and watch the collard greens so I could go for a walk. With a glass of wine. (Gini Dietrich gave me permission and all.)
Twenty minutes later, I came back a bit calmer and we ate supper. They were very good. They were not the best biscuits I ever had.
And I still don't understand why the recipe calls for brushing the tops with whipping cream - cinnamon butter would have been much better. (The frozen butter is genius, though - you should definitely try that with your biscuits. My Grandma Annie always said the secret to a biscuit is the butter melting in the oven - not in your hands or in the kitchen on the pan.)
If you are one who truly believes that life lies at the end of your comfort zone, then these biscuits are for you. If you just want fantastic biscuits without too much work (like me), then I recommend these Pimento Cheese Biscuits instead.
Learn, dear readers. Learn from my mistakes...
