How is it that now that the kids are mostly grown I’m busier than ever? Many days, I feel like my head is about to spin right off my neck, what with all my projects and lists and such. It’s weird.

This ramped-up activity is in stark contrast to how I felt when the kids were little: BORED OUT OF MY MIND. With littles to tend — nursings and naps, diaper changes and cleaning-up-afters — life slowed to a painstaking crawl. Killing time was my biggest hobby.

No longer! Now I feel like I’m constantly pushing myself to go, go, go. Go running. Make breakfast. Smack out some meals. Bake bread. Text a friend. Research this. Write about that. Make cheese. Edit videos. Walk with a friend. Assign chores. Send emails. Host. Read a book. Order a wedding gift. Buy gas. Sign up for a class. Watch a movie. Write queries. Hike. Process strawberries. Attend a play. Talk with my husband. Do laundry. Pull a bakery shift. Go see my mom. Go to meetings. Think about auditioning for a play. Chat with my kids. Water plants. Craft a menu. Keep lists. SLEEP.

Some days I feel like there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to do all the things I want to do — something I’ve never felt before — and I’ve actually been fantasizing about hiring people to help with my projects. It’s like I’ve outgrown my body. I need to divide into two of me, or grow an extra set of arms or something. 

I miss my relaxed afternoons spent writing meandering blog posts. The whole days puttering in the kitchen with a complicated recipe. Hours spent hiding in the bedroom talking to a girlfriend on the phone. Dozing off on the couch while the kids had rest time. I still have these unpressured moments (right now I’m sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket), but they are less frequent and they don’t last as long. (Case in point: in just a few minutes I need to hop up to roast the supper veggies, have a sit-down with my mom, and then zip into town to buy cleats before going to Ultimate, after which I’ll hustle back home for a quick supper and shower before hopping into bed and getting up at 4am to go bake, pant-pant.)

It’s all good, mind you, but this driven frenzy surprises me a little. For the last 23 years, I haven’t really known myself without children, so the bigness of me is a little startling. 

Me to myself: Oh, hello there. It’s YOU. 
Myself to me: Yup! Try and keep up.

***

Photos from an evening at the Silk Moth Stage where we saw Artemisia’s Intent. The story and the acting (oh, the acting!) took my breath away. There’s one more weekend to see the show.
Get your tickets here.

This same time, years previous: the butter conundrum, sugar-crusted popovers, the quotidian (5.31.21), gluten-free bread, period, facts, a few fun things, butter chicken, an evening together, in her element, the race we saw, spicy cabbage, showtime!, down to the river to chill.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

F⁴: friends, food, flowers, fun.

Cinnamon twists: a new recipe none of us liked.

About once a week, this is supper and I am happy.

Jam instead of mayo: try it!

Deep docks.

While I was at work, my daughter made cake.

Parallel.

If you come see me, there’s a good chance I’ll feed you cheese.

What I see.

What she sees.

Mid-rant.

Feed me, Seymour, nom-nom-nom.

Set.

Barnyard guests.

This same time, years previous: on being a family of four, chicken shawarma, garlic flatbreads with fresh herbs, a problem, the quotidian (5.22.17), sautéed lambsquarters with lemon, ice cream supper, finding my answers, the trouble with Mother’s Day, the quotidian (5.21.12).

I am a total sucker for simple recipes with basic ingredients and outsized promises of greatness, so last month when I came across a NYT recipe for a biscuit that had Eric Kim, a NYT Cooking food writer, saying things like “this biscuit is such a new taste for me” and “very unique” and “so different from any other biscuit I’ve ever had” — and he’s from the South! — I knew I had to make it.

Friends, he is right. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but this biscuit is different from regular biscuits.

The butter-flour ratio reminds me of pie pastry. The sugar in the dough made me think they’d be similar to scones, yet they are definitely not scones and I have zero interest in smacking in some add-ins like fruit, nuts, or chocolate. The folding method is reminiscent of puff pastry, but in a craggy, this-is-not-that way. And the addition of buttermilk makes me feel like these really ought to be like ordinary biscuits, and yet they aren’t.

These are less bready, maybe, and more special — part ordinary food and part divine dessert. The inside is tender and the outside has a decidedly un-biscuit-like crunch.

Whatever the case, the salty-sweet ratio is spot on. Absolute perfection. Amen.

The whole family gobbles them up, and I save the leftovers for breakfast. Even three days out, I still wake up excited for my breakfast biscuit. 

A few notes:

• Use a sided baking sheet because sometimes some of the butter bakes out in the oven. (When this happens, the biscuit edges fry in the butter which turns them deliciously crispy, o happy day!)
• The instructions call for grating the butter, freezing it for 10 minutes, and then tossing it with the dry ingredients. I’ve grated the butter on the big grater holes and the small ones (Eric says the small holes are better), and have found that the smaller butter shavings were so fine that they clumped back together and became lumps. I’m not convinced either way. 
• The cutting and stacking of the dry dough until it turns into a cohesive, many-layered block of buttery, flaky goodness is totally worth it. Also, it’s fun. Try it!
• Shaping the dough into a 1½ inch-high square and then cutting it into 9 pieces is smart: it’s fast, and there are no scraps to reroll. (I actually skipped the rolling pin entirely and just used my hands.).

It never ceases to amaze me how the same ordinary ingredients can yield such vastly different results with only the smallest of tweaks. What thrills!

Buttermilk Sugar Biscuits
Adapted from the NYT Cooking YouTube channel.

I used homemade butter, and I replaced the buttermilk with clabber. The amount of salt (I used non-iodized Kosher salt) is perfect; don’t skimp.

425 grams all-purpose flour
100 grams sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
2½ teaspoons kosher salt
2 sticks (277 grams) butter, grated and frozen for only 10 minutes
300 grams buttermilk or clabber
More melted butter and flaky Maldon salt, for finishing

Toss together the dry ingredients, and then add the lightly frozen, grated butter and toss to combine. Add the buttermilk/clabber in 2-3 additions, tossing after each addition. The dough will be quite dry and shaggy.

Turn the dough out onto a floured counter and, using your hands, shape it into a rough rectangle. Cut the dough in half and stack one half on top of the other. Press/roll the dough back into a rectangle. Repeat the cutting and stacking process 4-5 more times. By the end, the dough should be much smoother and hold together well. 

Press the dough into a square that’s 1½ inches high. Cut the dough into 9 squares, place them on a parchment-lined, sided baking sheet, and bake at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes. Brush the tops with butter and sprinkle with flaky salt. 

Serve warm, with butter and jam. Leftover biscuits can be bagged and stored at room temperature (before heating, reheat for 15 seconds), or frozen.

This same time, years previous: milk relief, the quotidian (5.18.20), flying, flashfloods, and firebombs, pinned, moo, campfire cooking, the quotidian (5.19.14),