Making Memories (and a few beaten biscuits)

I spent this morning making memories (and a few beaten biscuits) with the two little grandsons.

First, we drug out the beaten biscuit brake from the corner of the utility room, where it sits holding up boxes of dog treats the rest of the year.  This treasured antique looks like the wringer off of an old washer mounted on an enameled table.  Hand cranked it is the necessary tool for making the hard, flat biscuits that southerners love.

Next, we mixed up the dough in my largest mixing bowl.  Flour, salt, a little sugar, lard, and water and milk for the liquid. (Yep. No leavening.  They don't rise but bake like thick crackers.) It is mixed much like traditional biscuits but kneaded only enough to hold the dough together well.   The resulting lump of dough was carried into the utility room and plopped down on the biscuit brake.  "Are you ready?"  I asked the youngest, who was already in position at the crank.  "Let's go!" he responded.

With that I started the process of putting the dough between the rollers, folding it, and repeating the process.  The dough begins as a lumpy mass that tends to fall apart as it is cranked through the stainless, steel covered rollers.  As time passes the dough transforms into a smooth, elastic sheet that looks like thick, creamy leather.  As the folded dough is passed through the rollers again and again, the air trapped between the folds breaks through the firm dough with a loud "pop" signaling that the dough is done! 

It's not fast.  The dough has to be folded, and rolled about 100 times.  That leaves time for chatting as we work. 

"Why are they called "beaten" biscuits if we are rolling them?"  asks one of the boys.

"Well," I replied, "in the pioneer days people didn't have cool machines like this to work the dough.  So they used to literally "beat" the dough with something heavy, like the flat side of an ax." 

"Didn't they get tired?  I'm getting tired just cranking."  Sensing that I was about to lose my help, I suggested that it might be time to switch places so he could "poke" the dough through the rollers while I cranked. 

"Yes, they got tired.", I continued,  "but people worked harder back in the pioneer days.  They didn't have electricity or lots of gadgets to help them.  They certainly were in better shape than we are now.  The pioneer women probably used the same ax to chop the firewood for the stove that they would cook the biscuits in."

"I'll bet they were glad when someone invented the beaten biscuit machine!"  Grinning, I agreed that they probably were.  Soon the "pops" told me that it was time for a final rolling then we could cut the biscuits out .  The last job after that was using a fork to poke three sets of holes in each biscuit with the tines of the fork.  That done, we quickly put them in the oven to bake. 

Dusting off his hands, the oldest boy asked, "Hasn't anyone ever thought to make an electric beaten biscuit maker?"  "Yes" I replied, "there are ones with a motor."  "So why don't you have one?" came the quick response.  "I guess I just like doing it this way with my boys."  I offered, chuckling.

As they peeked at the baking biscuits in the oven, I overheard one say to the other, "I think we need to get daddy to put a motor on that thing for next year!"