Cheddar Biscuits

Winter solstice tomorrow. This is the three hundredth week I've been writing in this form — not the three hundredth entry, because the entries began at week fifty-nine when this log started, but the three hundredth week of my life being recorded here by someone who was a different person when he started and is still becoming whoever he's going to be. The log is a record of that process. Three hundred weeks of paying attention to specific things in a specific place and writing about them. The specificity is what saves it from being generic. The place is what gives it weight.

Went to the river on the solstice morning. Not the anniversary river trip — that's January 1st — just a visit. The Yellowstone in December, the ice forming at the edges, the channel running dark and cold through the center. The shortest day. Tomorrow the days lengthen. Tomorrow and every day after until June. The light returns without being asked to.

Christmas in four days. The prime rib is reserved. Mom has been baking for two weeks. Tom Whelan is coming; Claire has already gone back to Colorado. Dad has been having a good stretch — three weeks of what Dr. Varela would call stable and I would call present. He fixed something on the tractor on Thursday that would have defeated most mechanics without the specific knowledge that comes from forty years of knowing one machine. I watched from the barn door. He didn't know I was there.

Made the oyster stew for solstice — the second year in a row of a solstice batch in addition to the Christmas Eve batch. Cream, oysters, butter, celery salt. The recipe that belongs to December and to my mother's family and to the cold dark and to the returning of the light.

The oyster stew is the ceremony — the recipe that belongs to my mother’s family and to the cold dark and to whatever the solstice means to me now, three hundred weeks into paying attention. But something has to come alongside it, something warm and plain and undemanding, something you can hold in both hands while the shortest day closes around the house. These cheddar biscuits have become that thing. They don’t ask for anything. They just show up, and so do we.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 12 biscuits

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
3/4 cup cold buttermilk
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (for brushing)
1/4 teaspoon dried parsley (for brushing, optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 450°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it.
Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and garlic powder until evenly mixed.
Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter cubes to the flour mixture. Using a pastry cutter or your fingertips, work the butter into the flour until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with pea-sized pieces remaining. Work quickly so the butter stays cold.
Add the cheese. Stir the shredded cheddar into the flour-butter mixture until evenly distributed.
Add buttermilk. Pour in the cold buttermilk and stir with a fork just until the dough comes together. Do not overmix — a shaggy, slightly sticky dough is correct.
Shape and cut. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and gently pat it to about 3/4-inch thickness. Cut out biscuits using a 2-inch round cutter, pressing straight down without twisting. Re-pat scraps once to cut additional biscuits.
Bake. Place biscuits on the prepared baking sheet, sides nearly touching for softer edges. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until tops are golden and biscuits have risen.
Brush and serve. Remove from oven. Stir parsley into the melted butter if using and brush over the hot biscuit tops. Serve immediately alongside soup or stew.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cheddar Biscuits — The Warm Thing You Make Alongside the Thing That Belongs to December