Flaky Biscuits

I like butter.

I like the way it feels in between your fingers, when you work it into flour.  I like when warm hands help a cold stick of butter break into tiny crumbs.

It makes me feel incredibly useful.

I support healthy substitutions.  I'm all for using an avocado or fruit puree in place of butter.  But, if I'm being quite honest, there's no amount of use this or trust me you'll never know it's missing // that tastes quite the same.  Sometimes, I just want the real, full of fat thing.

Anyone else out there?

I went in thinking scones, but somewhere in the mix, things took a different direction and out popped buttery, flaky, biscuits.

I have no regrets.

But then these buttery, flaky biscuits took me back.

Food always takes me back.  I think that's one of the reasons I love it so much.  Sometimes we know it's coming and other times it's completely unexpected.

"When you do that Maeve, it really hurts my feelings."

I don't think anyone had told me I hurt their feelings since the third grade.  And I'm sure, from age 8 to 22 I had, in fact, hurt many peoples feelings but no one had actually said anything to me.

But I remember her saying this and it broke my heart.  It hurt more than a seemingly perfect guy making me swoon and hearing him say, "you're really great but something is missing."

When you're 22, "something is missing" sounds a lot like, "not good enough."

So yes, that hurt.  But not quite like this.

You see my sweet friend was reliable, committed, loyal.  She made plans that she fully intended on keeping.  No wishy washy-ness.  No flake.

And me, well, in efforts to not hurt anyone, in efforts to be everywhere, I'd say yes - all.the.time.

I'd say yes when something else had already been planned.  I'd say "yes, let's do that thing sometime" and never actually commit.

In efforts of trying to be there for everyone, I wasn't really being there for anyone.  

I was flaky.

She told me what so many other friends had to have been thinking and feeling. She told me something that needed work, a little fixin'.

And I love this friend so much for that.

Just a few weeks ago, another dear friend, another loyal, committed, always-gonna-show-up friend reached out to have dinner.  We live far-ish from each other so we picked a halfway point to meet.

As we were sitting eating our meal, she told me how thankful she was that something we planned weeks ago, actually happened.

She said I changed.  "You weren't this way a few years ago and I really appreciate it.  It means a lot to me."

I thanked her for that encouragement and thanked my other friend in my head and heart.  Sometimes, being honest, is the very best thing we can do for a friendship.

Because Lord knows we aren't perfect, we never will be, but with each new day, we are given the chance to be better, brighter, more patient than before.

With each new day I can apologize to my husband for rolling my eyes and snapping like a high-schooler.

Which each new day I can focus more at work [meaning, put the food blogs down], start fresh, be kind.

With each new day I can choose frustration and guilt or I can strap on my tennis shoes and drive myself to the gym.

You're given a new day too, ya know?

Together we can not press snooze six times. [I wish this was an exaggeration y'all]

Together, we can leave our anger and bitterness at the door and seek love, seek grace.

Will it come back?  Yes.

Will we be instantly cured? No.

Do I still overcommit, say yes too much, make plans I really can't commit too?  You bet.

But it's different now.  It's different when you know about it.  When you can call it out, hold it in the palm of your hand, look it square in the eye and say, "I am not defined by this."

I'm not a bag of greasy chips.

I'm not an inbox of unread emails or pile of unwritten thank-you cards.

I'm not a tantrum or eye roll or outburst on my husband.

If we can lend grace to others, why not be our own friend and do the same?  Give ourselves a little grace too.

I hope you make these buttery biscuits and eat them lathered in more butter or jam.  I hope when you make them you feel useful and balanced and joyful.

And for biscuit sake, the more flaky the better:)

p.s. The recipe is from my this book.  But I found it online too.  Just click on the biscuit photo up top & it'll take you to the recipe!  My scone-biscuits took more like 20 minutes to bake.  I think it all depends on your oven.  I'd start at the 10-12 minutes [just as the recipe says] and add 2 minutes at a time if you think they aren't done.  I felt mine could use some more salt [we love salt in our house].  Enjoy!