There is an art to making biscuits. They are best made with a love of all things southern and of feeding the people you love. My grandmother Nellie cooked three meals a day her whole life... I cannot even imagine having quite that much love for my family...hahaha:)
One of the treasured items I have from her is a biscuit bowl.
I have thought about the "things" we treasure knowing that they are just things. Truly, it is the connection we have to the people that possessed the "things" that really matters. This bowl is heavy and bulky. I have been terrified to use it for fear I may drop it on my tile. One day I saw it there collecting dust in my cabinet. It looked forlorn and stripped of purpose. I could almost see Nellie in her kitchen, apron covered with flour, turning the biscuit dough with her time worn hands. With this image I pulled the bowl out and proceeded to make my pie dough in that very bowl.
A smile crossed my face as I imagined her delight at my perfectly formed dough ball in her bowl.
So "things" you say? This bowl is not replaceable, they don't make them like this anymore. Even if I could find one... it wouldn't be Nellie's.
The bowl is now back in service with every biscuit, roll, and pie dough I make...it feels like going grandma's house every time:)
Who knew a bowl could make a difference? It is as if Nellie's magical baking abilities embedded in the bowl sprinkle just the right amount of baking fairy dust to create taste bud heaven in our home:)
And that my friends cannot be replaced, only handed down from Nellie to me, to my daughter, and then a granddaughter and generations to come. With the bowl comes the love Nellie had for her family...and that IS the magical source of the biscuit bowl:)