As a child, my grandparents' farm was my favorite place on earth. It was a magical place where baby cows were bottle-fed and chickens hatched before my eyes in incubators. But as much as I loved marveling at all the life buzzing on the farm, there were other better perks of staying there. My grandmother would let me sleep in until noon and, somehow, breakfast was always ready and piping hot when I woke up. I remember sitting cross-legged at her kitchen table in front of a plateful of eggs over easy, bacon, fried potatoes, sliced tomatoes from the garden, and made-from-scratch buttermilk biscuits. The recipe is simple, but as delicious as it is humble.

1. As a child, my grandparents' farm was my favorite place on earth. It was a magical place where baby
cows were bottle-fed and chickens hatched before my eyes in incubators. But as much as I loved
marveling at all the life buzzing on the farm, there were other better perks of staying there. My
grandmother would let me sleep in until noon and, somehow, breakfast was always ready and piping
hot when I woke up. I remember sitting cross-legged at her kitchen table in front of a plateful of eggs
over easy, bacon, fried potatoes, sliced tomatoes from the garden, and made-from-scratch buttermilk
biscuits. The recipe is simple, but as delicious as it is humble.
She rendered her own lard and used it often in the biscuits, but on occasion she'd use the bacon fat
saved from morning's breakfast it adds a whole new dimension of flavor, a smoky richness like Chicken
Fricassee with Cream. Rendering your own bacon fat may sound complicated, but it's really simple. Just
fry bacon on the stove top as usual, and when the bacon is crisp and all the fat has melted into the pan,
pour it into a heat-proof jar. The bacon dregs will collect on the bottom of the jar and the bacon fat
above will turn white and solid as it cools. Store the jar in the refrigerator after it cools completely. You'll
want the fat to be cold for flaky-biscuit-making.
Put a little homemade apple butter on them, and you've got heaven.
A pastry blender will make quick work of cutting the fat into the flour, or you can use a simple hand
chopper like I do. My grandmother's method was even more low-tech. She'd rub the fat into the flour
with her fingers.
After several minutes of blending, the fat should be roughly cut into pea-sized crumbs.
Make a well in the center of the mixture and pour in the buttermilk.
Mix with a fork until the liquid and dry ingredients are just combined and a sticky dough is achieved. If
your dough is too stiff, add 1 to 2 more tablespoons of buttermilk.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and then lightly sprinkle the dough with additional
flour. Knead briefly and pat the dough flat with well-floured hands to 1 1/2" thickness.
Cut dough into rounds using a 3 inch round biscuit cutter or cookie cutter (here I'm using a can that once
held mandarin oranges). Re-roll scraps and cut more biscuits until all of the dough is used.
Place biscuits, just touching, on a lightly greased 13 x 9-inch baking sheet.
Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden brown and fragrant. Brush with melted butter and serve.