Biscuits that made me cry…

I had three children in 39 months. I was exhausted. Home cooking was not happening at the Finch house. It was Ramen, Tacos, and Frozen Supperville…for days! My sweet Mama was 6 hours away. Home cooking was all I grew up on. There were seasons where I would load up those babies and drive six hours stopping to nurse along the way just so I could get her cornbread and peas or biscuits and honey.

It was February, my least favorite month. It was cold and dreary and I was spent. Ben, being aware of my desperate state hired a sitter on our limited budget and drove me to Knoxville Tennessee, just 40 minutes down the road and told me he had a new restaurant he wanted to take me.

We ran from the parking deck to Market Square in the freezing rain. We let down our umbrella and shook like wet cats as we took in the scent of country ham. We passed plates of gravy and all things fried on our way to our seats. Once seated the waiter offered the menu and my eyes couldn’t even focus. All I wanted to do was not think, not have to answer questions, not be interrupted for the 1000th time or chop up three plates of food. So I sat there taking in the semi-silence. Within seconds (or so it seemed) THEY BROUGHT ME BISCUITS!!!!!!! Hot, buttery, deliciously tall biscuits AND blackberry jam!!! I broke open one, spread some butter, took a bite, and wept.

You can ask Ben. Its true. I just sat there and cried. Once composed enough to speak I answered my bewildered husband quizzical stare. “It tastes like HOME.” And it still does. I offered a class on biscuit making because I want you to be able to taste what home tastes like to me. So what is it for you? Chicken Pot Pie? A casserole? Cornbread? What tastes like home to you? Maybe your more composed than I was that day 6 years ago, but I bet you have a tastebud weakness too! Please stay a while, share your story and lets be friends.