In my book Football Flyboy, there were so many biscuit stories that I had to share the recipe. Dad got backhanded away from the table for uttering, “Biscuits again!” at the breakfast table one morning. This of course gave cheer to all his sisters that the favorite child was not the favorite for a brief moment. Now my grandmother didn’t have a mean bone in her body but that morning she just hauled off and smacked the surly teen. This is a story that my aunt told over and over again with increasing laughter at every repetition.
As Grandma aged she could no longer see well- and we may have eaten a few weevils that were in the flour on occasion.
This recipe is exactly as Grandma would make them- some measurements are best left unmeasured!