If you spend any time around me, you know this: Isabel likes to bake. One of the Happy Places in my house is the big-ass cabinet in the pantry that is full, top to bottom, with baking stuff. (If I’m ever in a dire situation of extreme stress and someone says “Go to your happy place Isabel!” you’ll know where to find my consciousness — nestled in between the Tahitian Vanilla Extract and the Dutch Process Cocoa.) It’s where my beloved brilliant orange Kitchen-Aid stand mixer is parked, my specialty baking pans are crammed, my favorite orange mixing bowl rests, and several different kinds of chocolate and cocoa powders reside. Many fine and fabulous things come out of here because I live for baked goods. (Side note: somehow, through all our ant invasions, the little idiots have yet to discover this heavenly trove — I have four different kinds of sugar in there! Why are they in my studio?)
Anyway, I made buttermilk biscuits for the first time in my life the other night and my question is this: is there some kind of Dairy Conspiracy? Why does it seem like you can only buy buttermilk in huge quarts when all you really want is a cup (or less!). And what the hell is buttermilk anyway? Fermented milk?!? When that happens to milk, when it starts to smell sour and get chunky, aren’t we supposed to throw it away? People drink buttermilk? On purpose?
In looking around for a quick image to slap onto this post I discovered many disgusting things including Buttermilk Sherbet, the very notion of which nearly makes me vomit. (Just a little teensy bit.) I also saw Spicy Buttermilk (I’m sorry, I really think I’m going to be sick) and a Buttermilk King Snake who looked appropriately nasty, probably pissed off at being named after spoiled milk. (Ah, all better now.) I never did find a picture that really summed up what buttermilk is to me, and maybe that’s just as well. No reason to go around making all of you sick.
I’ll say one thing for the stuff though — it made DAMN fine biscuits, holy buttery morsels, Batman, you bit into them and just about died. I’m feeling all sad and wistful tonight because they’re all gone.
But now whaddo I do with all the rest of this buttermilk?