The Beauty of an Ordinary Biscuit

RETURNING TO THE HUMBLE ROOTS OF THIS BELOVED SOUTHERN PASTRY

- MICAH A. LEAL

NOT LONG AGO, my ego stood almost as tall as my biscuits. At a bakery in South Carolina, I feigned humility when coworkers called me "the biscuit master," but deep down, I felt a little too much pride over my flaky creations. Nowadays, my biscuits are short and without any distinct layers-and that's okay with me.

Many modern recipes promise to deliver "perfect" results. From shredding frozen butter to folding the dough in a pattern rivaling origami, these techniques often work, but they can also convince people that they need to be a pastry chef or have learned from a Southern-born grandma to achieve blue-ribbon results.

As an actual pastry chef from the South, I had fixed ideas about biscuits. Then I learned the truth: There is no perfect recipe. Working in restaurants and bakeries didn't afford me this lesson. Instead, the knowledge I held close was completely undone in one afternoon spent in a sunny kitchen in Marion, Alabama.

In this tiny town, chef and Alabama native Scott Peacock has made a home for himself and created a space for the craft of biscuit making. For the past four years, he has shared his wisdom in intimate classes he calls The Black Belt Biscuit Experience. Part history lesson and part workshop, they take place in a Greek Revival mansion that has been outfitted with a modern-day kitchen.