There was a time in my life – that is, the better part of junior high – when I thought that Color Me Badd’s All 4 Love was in the running for Best Love Song Ever. I have no shame when I tell you that I can still dance in sync as they running-man and spin through what appears to be the empty front hallway of a cookie-cutter condominium. I eventually moved on to thinking that Best Love Song Ever should go to All For Love. And – no shame! – Sting’s voice lifting over Bryan Adams and yes, ok, Rod Stewart’s too – it still gives me goosebumps.
And in the right moment, I will still defend the poetic principles of those ballads. From “I will never leave u girl/now this I guarantee/I look into the future/I see u and me!” to “I’ll be the rock you can build on/be there when you’re old/to have and to hold/… I’ll be the wall that protects you/from the wind and the rain/from the hurt and the pain…” I mean, come on. They don’t even really need my defense.
(Because they are epic!)
It has been seven years since Kyle and I wed. (!!) (And while by the time I walked down the aisle I had given my heart completely to
Eddie Vedder Kyle, I can still get a little flutter listening to some of the love songs of my perhaps musically-misguided youth.) We return home every chance we get, to stay at the magical place where we got married, in the beautiful part of the world where we lived for five years when we first got together. Last weekend, for our anniversary, we got the chance yet again to spend a couple days in the mystical groves of coastal redwoods, to see fog whisper over the side of Mt. Tam and curl down into the deep green of Mill Valley, to watch the Pacific sparkle along, blue and happy as it always seems to be come mid-October.
I love being married to Kyle. When birthdays and anniversaries and random weekends away happen, we always seem to meander through conversations that lead us to this very thing: we are so glad we are together. It was so unlikely, our match, but so unavoidable once we had met. There was never a moment’s doubt or hesitation: there was just the simple thing that we wanted to be together, more than anything. Our lives have been so enriched by being mingled. Pretty much everything is better.
I made biscuits tonight because while I would happily eat eggs and salad and call it dinner, Kyle would not. He would happily eat it, but he would call it something like “Where is the meat part?” or “Is there anything else?” or “I guess I can have some granola when we’re done.”
Kyle, seven amazing years later, and still “I love it when we’re together/and I need you forever/ I want you to know I do it all for love!”
(And now, running man!)
Cream Butter Biscuits
Adapted from James Beard’s Cream Biscuits recipe as shared by Marion Cunningham in The Breakfast Book.
Marion Cunningham says it herself: “These biscuits are superior.” I use a good amount of whole grain flour, and some whole milk subbed in for part of the cream, and still they are so tender, so flaky, so perfectly biscuity, that I cannot believe I made them myself. More than any other biscuits I know, they taste how I imagine biscuits should.
In addition to being perfectly delicious, these are fool proof even when they are last minute – they come together in a flash, bake off in a few minutes, and absolutely no one will believe how easy they are to make.
Just remember to make them with love.
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
3 teaspoons sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup whole milk
1/3 cup butter, melted and cooled slightly
Preheat your oven to 425 F. No need to grease or parchment-line your baking sheet.
Combine flours, salt, baking powder and sugar in a mixing bowl. Stir with a fork to blend and lighten. Slowly add the cream, stirring constantly with the fork. Gather the dough together – then slowly add the milk, a tablespoon at a time (you probably won’t need all of it) until the dough holds together well and feels tender.
Place dough on a lightly floured counter and knead for 1 minute. Pat it into a square-ish shape that is about 1/2 inch thick. Cut into 12 smaller squares, and dip each into the melted butter, coating it completely and then placing it onto the un-greased baking sheet. (Place the biscuits about 2 inches apart).
If you have any leftover melted butter, you can drizzle it right over the tops of the biscuits. Bake them for about 15 minutes, until lightly browned. Serve hot – they are perfect as is.
(But add a little swirl of honey and sprinkle of cinnamon and one does make a convincing dessert.)