Son of a Biscuit

When I was 13 and again as as a bride at 20, my grandmother tried to teach me to make biscuits. I love baking, which isn’t the same as cooking, and so I thought it should be no problem.

She got out a teacup, measured out the flour, took a pinch of salt, a quarter of baking powder, and another teacup of buttermilk and made the lightest, fluffiest biscuits ever. My husband even ate them with gravy. Gravy! For a man who doesn’t let his food touch this was a major step forward.

But I digress.

Once I returned home, I tried making biscuits. I think the technical term is cat heads. You know the kind that are flatter than a pancake and kinda pointy. I have tried and tried for any number of years to remake those light and flakey biscuits.

And I haven’t succeeded.

So this afternoon, to go with the quick and dirty chicken pot pie, I tried again. My mom sent me her biscuits. Which are like her mother’s— light and flakey. I’m pretty darn sure I’m missing the biscuit gene, but I don’t lack the stubborn one, so I tried again.

So, this time I got have half cat heads and half somewhat light biscuits. All were flakey. So, I’m gaining. Maybe by the time I am 90, I’ll have mastered the biscuit making.

Wish me luck.

About Linda Andrews

Linda Andrews lives with her husband and three children in Phoenix, Arizona. When she announced to her family that her paranormal romance was to be published, her sister pronounce: "What else would she write? She’s never been normal." All kidding aside, writing has become a surprising passion. So just how did a scientist start to write paranormal romances? What other option is there when you’re married to romantic man and live in a haunted house? If you’ve enjoyed her stories or want to share your own paranormal experience feel free to email the author at She’d love to hear from you.
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