Q: Howdy, Richard! First things first: When did you start making biscuits, and how did they become such a signature part of breakfast at Elmwood 1820?
Gosh, I started making biscuits years (and years and years) ago.
I attribute most of my love of cooking to watching my mom and grandma in the kitchen. It was never anything fancy, just consistently good food. Some of my earliest memories are of eating country ham, hot biscuits, and red-eye gravy.
I didn't think much about my biscuits until I opened the inn and guests started telling me how much they loved them. Before I knew it, people were even asking me to bring batches to neighborhood events. I guess that's when I realized I might be onto something.
Q: Take us behind the scenes. What time do you get up, and what's happening in the kitchen before guests ever smell that first batch?
I try to get into the kitchen between 6:00 and 6:30 AM every morning.
First order of business: coffee. We start delivering room-service coffee, hot tea, and, in the winter, hot cocoa at 7:00 AM, so getting those first pots brewing is essential. After that, it's full speed ahead. I'm elbows-deep in biscuit dough while preparing whatever else we're serving for breakfast that day.
Q: You've made your devotion to White Lily Flour very clear. Why White Lily? What makes it non-negotiable?
I'm sure some. Some amateurs have managed to make okay biscuits with other flours, but in my experience, you really can't beat White Lily. You get beautiful biscuits—and yes, those babies are pretty—with tender, flaky layers. It really does make the difference between a heavenly biscuit and a biscuit-colored hockey puck.
Maybe I'm just stubborn, but at 62, I'm not about to change now.
Q: Your biscuits come with homemade jams featuring seasonal fruit. Tell us about those. Do you have a favorite pairing?
Locally sourced? Well, that means I make the jams myself, from scratch, using whatever fruit is in season.
And let me tell you, we have some of the juiciest, most beautiful deep-red strawberries on the planet here in North Carolina. We also get blackberries and figs locally, and they make excellent jams.
During the holidays, I make blood orange marmalade. The oranges aren't local, but the marmalade is a beautiful, rich ruby red. I also make a Christmas jam that tastes like a spicy combination of strawberry jam, orange marmalade, and cranberry sauce.
As for my favorite pairing? Just about any of them, as long as there's fresh, unsalted butter and a hot biscuit involved.
That's eyes-rolling-back good.
Q: What's your favorite guest reaction? Any requests for seconds, attempts to steal the recipe, or memorable comments?
It's always a good sign when guests ask for more biscuits. But my favorite reaction is when they ask if they can buy a batch for the trip home.
I've had plenty of requests for the recipe, too. I always tell them, "I could give it to you, but then I'd have to shoot you." The funny thing is, it's actually a very simple recipe: White Lily self-rising flour, unsalted butter, and buttermilk. The secret isn't so much what's in them. It's how you bring those ingredients together.
And that's all I'm saying.
Q: Without giving away the family jewels, what's your best advice for someone trying to make a great biscuit at home?
Just do it. (Nike, please don't sue me.)
Seriously, start making them. It takes a little trial and error, but you'll master it with practice. Right now, I'm experimenting with a pumpkin biscuit for October. And with the holidays coming up, I've got an eggnog biscuit on my mind.
Stay tuned. I'll let you know how they turn out.
Q: One last question. If your biscuits had a name, what would it be?
Oh my, I'm not sure I've ever thought about naming my biscuits. I'd call them Frank because they're frankly that good. But I do have a name for the very last biscuit I roll out in each batch. I put a little dimple in it and call it my Fat Boy.
