Battle of the Biscuits: Classic Biscuits vs. Emergency Biscuits

Classic Biscuit in front, emergency biscuit behind!

Classic Biscuit in front, emergency biscuit behind!


You guys, I love American biscuits. In fact, living in a country that does not understand the Breakfast Perfection that is an (American) Bacon, Egg and Cheese Biscuit is probably the only downfall of living in Scotland. But they’re totally one of those foods I have never been able to make very well myself. The second Christmas Judson and I were dating, we decided to make ham and biscuits for a progressive dinner we were invited to.* Unsurprisingly, this turned out… poorly. So poorly, in fact, that 20 minutes before the dinner was to start, when we realised our biscuits had come out more like crackers, I had to drive to the nearest Whole Foods and buy a half dozen varieties of fancy mustards and chutneys to spread the biscuits/hard tack with to try to remedy the situation. Judson’s neighbours were nice about it, but I was pretty disappointed in us. I mean, biscuits! They have 3 ingredients! They shouldn’t be difficult!

I seem to have inherited my mom’s complete inability to make biscuits, though, (sorry, mom!), so I’ve been apprehensive (at best) to tackle these two biscuit recipes. First of all, why did Eleanor even have these? I’m pretty sure my mom didn’t taste a biscuit until she was in her 20s, and I can’t imagine Eleanor making (or eating) something as southern as biscuits… but here we are. I had a bit of luck with the ‘shortcakes’ from this strawberry shortcake recipe back in the summer, but although the flavour on that batch was great, they were still dry enough that I wouldn’t have enjoyed them by themselves, not coated in juicy strawberries and whipped cream.

So I’ve been both stoked to make this recipe (potential for biscuits!) but also nervous because what if I get my hopes up and then they go the way all my other biscuit forays have gone? I delayed making these two recipes for ages because I was nervous, but then I realised the fact that one of them is called ‘Emergency Biscuits’ was just too funny not to share. What possible emergency is there where biscuits are the only solution? You’re stuck in a flood of gravy with nothing to sop up the mess? There’s an abundance of fried eggs, crispy bacon and melty cheese in your kitchen and you need an edible thing to sandwich it all between before you chow down? As it turns out, Emergency Biscuits have basically the exact same ingredients in very nearly the exact same quantities as the regular biscuits, but instead of patting them out and cutting them with a biscuit cutter (ahem, juice glass—why would I have a biscuit cutter when I can’t make biscuits?), you just take a spoonful of dough and pat it into a small mound.

So I made these recipes back to back, baked ‘em both up, and then did the taste-testing. Judson mocked the shape and overall look of the ‘emergency biscuits,’ but then upon tasting both side by side, we came to the conclusion that the emergency variety was actually better. However, I’m going to go ahead and caveat that the only reason we liked the emergency biscuits better is because they are easier to make, and thus came out better for this experienced non-biscuit baker. If you’re good at making biscuits, I have no idea which one you’ll like better, but if you’re as bad at it as me, then start with the emergency version—they’re simple and nearly foolproof:  the perfect beginner’s biscuit!

Emergency biscuit: slightly less smooth, but also a lot fluffier!

Emergency biscuit: slightly less smooth, but also a lot fluffier!

*Whose idea was this? The year before we made shrimp dip and a plate of crackers. What hubris possessed us to think that in one year our cooking skills had progressed from ‘mix together cream cheese and shrimp’ to ‘make an entire ham and enough biscuits to feed 30 people’?

The verdict:
Emergency Biscuits:

5 spoons out of five. Easier than the regular kind, easier to clean up since you don’t have to make a mess of the countertop, and even though they’re not quite as pretty as a nice flat-topped biscuit, they have the perfect buttery crumb that makes me hungry just thinking about it.

Classic Biscuits:

3 spoons out of five. They’re tasty and still relatively easy, but my skill level is still not great and so mine came out quite a bit flatter than I wanted them to, though they were still delicious, soft, and tasted great with salted butter and a nice slick of marmalade.

the recipe:

Emergency Biscuits

the directions:

Preheat oven to 230C/450F.
Sift flour once, add baking powder and salt, then sift again.
Cut in shortening, then add milk very slowly, stirring until a soft dough is formed.
Drop from a tablespoon onto an ungreased cookie sheet.
Bake 10-12 minutes until golden brown.
Makes about 16 biscuits.

the ingredients:

2 c flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp butter or shortening
1 c milk

The recipe:

Classic Biscuits

the directions:

Preheat oven to 230C/450F.
Sift flour once, then measure.
Add baking powder and salt, then sift again.
Cut in shortening, then add milk very slowly, stirring until a soft dough is formed.
Turn out on lightly floured surface and knead very gently for 20 seconds, or enough for dough to take on a basic shape.
Pat or roll dough 1/2-inch thick and cut with a floured biscuit cutter or juice glass.
Bake on ungreased cookie sheet 10-12 minutes until golden brown.
Makes about 12 biscuits.

The ingredients:

2 c flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp butter or shortening
3/4 c milk

Got a Hot Date Cake, or, Valentine's Chocolate Cake with Date Filling

Valentine’s Day is one of my favourite holidays (after, in order, Halloween and New Year’s Eve) because it involves one of my favourite foods (chocolate) and one of my favourite… shapes? (Hearts, duh!). Even during the (many) years of being single on Valentine’s Day, it always seemed like a good chance to eat some sweets, remind the people that I love how much I love them, and fill myself with fresh flowers.

Being married with an anniversary less than a month after Valentine’s Day means that it’s not quite as big of a deal as it used to be, but it’s still a fun holiday to celebrate and I couldn’t let it pass without making a chocolate date cake in honour of all the dates going on this weekend. (Get it!? Dates?!) Judson and I will be celebrating elsewhere, but we'll still be out on a date on Sunday night, and with any luck, we'll be enjoying a dessert as tasty as this one-- because, seriously, this cake is amazing.

I don't know why I doubted this dessert (yes I do: I love dates but I always doubt dates in dessert), because seriously: the last date dessert I made (as part of the infamous Holiday Almanac) was one of my favourite dishes of the month of December. But seriously, this chocolate cake is amazing. The layers are fairly slim, the buttercream frosting is super easy and unbelievably tasty, and the toasty pecans add just the right amount of crunch. But the dates. The dates are the star of this cake-- the filling isn't overly fruity, but the dates add so much moisture that the whole rest of the cake is just perfectly buttery, moist and chocolate-y without being overpoweringly sweet.

And now that I’ve finished making all of the cheesecakes in the box, I've moved on to chocolate cakes (of which I also have a ton) and even though this recipe kind of involves three mini-recipes (cake, filling, frosting), I regret nothing. It was delicious, far more reliable than the cheesecakes ever were, and my co-workers ate the entire thing in record time.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. Make this cake and your Valentine will be très impressed.

The recipe:

Chocolate Cake with Date Filling

the directions:
cake:

Preheat oven to 175C/350F, then line three round cake pans with parchment.
Cream butter, sugar, and vanilla.
Add eggs and beat well.
Blend in chocolate.
Sift together dry ingredients, then add to chocolate mixture alternately with water.
Beat until smooth.
Pour into prepared pans and cook 20-30 minutes until a pick inserted in the middle comes out clean.
Allow to cool complete before filling and frosting.

filling:

Over very low heat, heat milk and dates until very warm.
In a separate bowl, mix sugar, flour, and salt, then add the beaten egg.
Remove milk mixture from heat, then stir sugar mixture into the milk mixture very slowly while whisking constantly so the eggs don't cook.
Return to very low heat, then cook until thickened, stirring constantly.
Once mixture has thickened, stir in nuts and vanilla.
Allow to cool completely before filling cake.

frosting:

Beat butter, salt, and 1 c powdered sugar until light and fluffy.
Blend in melted chocolate, then add remaining sugar, alternating with milk and vanilla.
Mix until smooth and creamy-- do not overmix.
If frosting is too thick, add more milk; if too thin, add more powdered sugar until spreading consistency is reached.

the ingredients:
the cake:

¾ c butter, softened
2 c sugar
1 tsp vanilla
3 eggs
3 oz baking chocolate, melted and cooled
3 c cake flour, sifted
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp baking powder
¾ tsp salt
1 ½ c water


the filling:

1 c milk
¾ c dates, chopped
¼ c sugar
1 tbsp flour
¼ tsp salt
1 egg, beaten
½ c pecans, chopped
1 tsp vanilla

 

the frosting:

1/3 c butter
1/8 tsp salt
3 c powdered sugar, sifted
3 oz unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled
¼ c milk
1 ½ tsp vanilla

Blintzes

When we moved to Scotland, we quickly discovered that there are several sets of words that are all one-removed from US words: things like fries, which here are chips, and chips, which over here are crisps; or menswear, which is a veritable landmine of words that exist in both American and British English, but have different meanings in each: American suspenders are British braces, but British suspenders are an American garter belt; an American vest is a British gilet or sometimes a waistcoat if it’s fancy, but a British vest is a American tank top and a British tank top is an American sweater vest. American pants are British trousers and British pants are American underwear. It’s best just not to try to shop for menswear in the UK, and most definitely best not to ever discuss your legwear.

Relatedly (bear with me), tomorrow is Pancake Day here in the UK, which means it’s Fat Tuesday, Lent is about to start, and it’s time to use up all those pesky ‘luxuries’ in your pantry by… making a batch of pancakes? This is a tradition over here in Europe, and although I know it persists in some parts of the US, it definitely wasn’t a tradition I was aware of before moving to Scotland. Confusingly, though, the ‘pancakes’ served on Pancake Day over here are typically served with lemon and powdered sugar, and while they’re not usually as thin as a French crepe, they’re also definitely not as thick as American pancakes… which brings me to the confusing verbiage: in the US, we use the term ‘flapjack’ and ‘pancake’ interchangeably, but here in the UK, a flapjack is thick, soft, usually oat-based insanely sweet confection that I would most liken to a homemade granola bar. (Incidentally, I hate British flapjacks.) So the pancakes you eat for Pancake Day aren’t exactly crepes and they’re not exactly pancakes and they’re most definitely not flapjacks… so where does that leave us?

As discussed last year, my go-to Pancake Day will be, probably for the rest of time, my mom’s crepes, but in the interest of keeping things new and fresh around here, this year we went with blintzes instead, and apparently this is far more likely to be a historically accurate choice for someone like Eleanor, whose heritage was almost exclusively Eastern European. ‘What’s a blintz?’ you may be asking, if you are neither Jewish nor Eastern European, which, according to my research, are the two groups of people who most deserve credit for the wonder that is the blintz.* A blintz is a yeasted pancake (as opposed to a non-yeasted French crepe), thinner than a pancake but thicker than a crepe, and traditionally eaten this time of year to celebrate the end of winter and the beginning of Lent.

Basically, it’s a double-whammy of awesome: you take a pancake, and instead of just topping it with things that are delicious, you also fill it with things that are delicious (sweetened cottage cheese with just enough lemon essence to brighten the whole thing up), and then you can even eat it for dinner if you want to. Traditionally, they’re fried after being filled with delicious cheese filling, but since this recipe came from an article about tailoring ‘blintzes to your diet,’ this version is slightly healthier as they’re baked instead of fried at the end. And they’re delicious. Even my sweet-phobic husband, who hates sweet breakfast foods, was wild about these.

*This recipe definitely takes the cake for the most offensive newspaper article so far found in the box: it starts out 'You don't have to be Jewish to love blitzes [sic]. But you'd better be skinny, because blitzes [sic] are plenty fattening, prepared according to the usual Jewish-mother tradition.' So... we'll just ignore that part and focus on the recipe at hand.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. They’re the perfect balance of crisp and soft, warm and toasty without being overly heavy, and they’re delicious. We topped ours with apricot preserves, lemon curd, and cherries in kirsch syrup (just so we could test a variety of toppings, but you could equally use warmed honey, any kind of fruit pie filling, a dollop of yogurt, or warm applesauce. (My favourite, though, was apricot preserves). Make these and celebrate Pancake Day—even if you’re not celebrating Lent.

Pancake Day, Previously: Check out my favourite crepe recipe over here, perfect for celebrating Pancake Day British-style!

The recipe:

Blintzes

The directions:
Blintzes:

Combine flour and salt, then stir in milk, water, and eggs gradually.
Beat until smooth (a few very small lumps or air bubbles are okay).
Heat a nonstick skillet until warm, then drop in a tiny sliver of butter and let melt.
Preheat oven to 175C/350F.
Use a small ladle or measuring cup to pour about 2 tablespoons of batter into the pan, swirling the pan as you pour to distribute the batter evenly. 
You should have JUST enough batter to cover the bottom of the pan and no 'extra' that would make the blintz too thick.
Cook about one minute, until top dries and bottom is lightly browned.
Without flipping over, turn blintz out onto a towel and set aside until you run out of batter.

Filling:

Blend all ingredients together and beat until of uniform consistency.
Put a spoonful (or 2, depending on the size of your blintzes) of filling into the centre of each blintz, and roll them 'envelope-style.' 
First, fold in sides slightly, then roll from top to bottom to make a secure pouch. 
Place filled blintzes seam-side down on a cookie sheet and heat until warmed through.
Serve with apricot preserves, lemon curd, or whatever you can think of!

The ingredients:
The blintzes:

3 c flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 c skim milk
1/2 c water
3 eggs + 1 egg white (yolk reserved for filling)
Butter for brushing the pan

The filling:

3 c cottage cheese
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
Zest from one lemon
1 egg yolk (reserved from blintz recipe above)

the topping:

Apricot preserves (Blair's favourite)
Lemon Curd (Judson's favourite)
Cherries in Kirsch syrup (totally delicious!)
Warmed honey