I have been thinking about mac and cheese. Not making it yet, just thinking. There is a whole category of her recipes that I circle before attempting, like I need to gather courage first. Her baked mac and cheese is one of those. The kind with a crust on top that crackles when you break through it. She uses sharp cheddar and a little Velveeta, which she is not embarrassed about at all. Velveeta melts smooth, she said once. Fancy cheese gets greedy and breaks. I wrote that down on a Post-it that is currently on my refrigerator.
Sunday this week I drove to Prattville for dinner. The drive is forty-five minutes each way and I do it without thinking about it now, which is itself something. I did not always have a car. When I first aged out and moved into the apartment I was taking the bus to the daycare. Gloria and James helped me buy the car in November, used, 2009 Civic, 110000 miles, drives perfectly, and I still feel that as a weight I carry carefully. Not debt exactly. Something else. Love that costs something real.
She made pork chops this week, smothered in onion gravy, with rice and green beans from a can. She asked me to stir the gravy while she rested her hands. Her arthritis has been bothering her more in the cold. I stirred without saying much. James watched the news in the other room. The kitchen smelled like everything safe. After dinner I washed all the dishes without being asked, because washing dishes in that kitchen is something I will never take for granted.
Marcus at the daycare threw his lunch at the wall this week, a full container of applesauce, and then looked so shocked by what he had done that I could not even be stern. I cleaned it up and said we do not throw food buddy and he said I know Vanna. He does know. He just forgot for a second. I understand that.
The biscuits this week: better. They rose. Not perfectly but they rose. Gloria said good girl on the phone and I felt seventeen kinds of things at once.
The biscuits rose this week—not perfectly, but they rose—and I kept thinking about that while I planned what to make for this post. Something about earning a small good thing, about practicing until something lifts, felt like it needed to be celebrated with something sweet. Strawberry shortcake felt right: it starts with a biscuit, which I am learning to trust myself with, and it turns into something that feels like a party for no reason except that you made it. Here’s how I put it together.
Classic Strawberry Shortcake
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- For the shortcake biscuits:
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar, plus more for topping
- 1 tablespoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
- 3/4 cup cold heavy cream, plus more for brushing
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- For the strawberries:
- 2 pounds fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
- 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon lemon juice
- For the whipped cream:
- 1 1/2 cups cold heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Instructions
- Macerate the strawberries. Combine sliced strawberries, sugar, and lemon juice in a bowl. Stir gently and set aside for at least 20 minutes, until the berries release their juices.
- Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Make the biscuit dough. Whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Add cold butter cubes and work them into the flour with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Cold butter is the key to layers that rise.
- Add the cream. Stir in cold heavy cream and vanilla extract just until the dough comes together. Do not overmix —a shaggy dough is a good dough.
- Shape and cut. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and gently pat to 3/4-inch thickness. Use a 2 1/2-inch round cutter to cut biscuits, pressing straight down without twisting. Re-pat scraps and cut remaining biscuits. Place on the prepared baking sheet.
- Brush and bake. Brush tops with heavy cream and sprinkle with a pinch of sugar. Bake 13–15 minutes, until golden on top and cooked through. Let cool slightly on the pan.
- Whip the cream. Beat cold heavy cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla in a chilled bowl until soft peaks form. Do not overbeat.
- Assemble. Split each shortcake in half. Spoon strawberries and their juices over the bottom half, dollop generously with whipped cream, and set the top half on at a slight angle. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 430 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 270mg