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Buttermilk Buscuit Feminist
Jan. 25th, 2011 10:40 amIts hard to believe sometimes that in high school I was voted "Biggest Women's Libber." If you had told me at seveenteen that, in my forties, I would be a stay-at-home mom who takes a huge amount of pride in the fact that I can lay out an awesome dinner on a budget, I would have said, "Are you kidding me?? I'm going to be a world-traveling poet living in a garret in Paris, who takes many lovers, all of them gorgeous men...." Oh, yeah, seventeen year old, Lyda, did I mention you're a lesbian???
*thud* <-- The sound of younger-me having died instantly of a heart attack from the shock of it all.
I would have believed, however, that I'd grow up to be a published author. I had a pretty powerful sense of my destiny for greatness.
I *might* have been a little horrified by all the romance titles and the psuedonym, but, I was much snobbier about such things back then. I thought Country Western music was for hicks only and I would have told you opera sucked.
Of course, it just demonstrates how old I am by the fact that my high school still had a catagory for "Biggest Women's _Libber_". Who even says THAT any more? We're all feminists now, thank you ver-y much. Heck, most of us are probably post-feminists or something.... I don't know.
Anyway, that was just a huge lead-up to the fact that I wanted to shared with you all that I made the most AWESOME buttermilk buscuits last night. Actually, the whole meal was pretty spectacular, as I tried a new recipie for "drummies" as well. (Whiskey/maple syrup coated in the crock pot. Nom. Nom. Nom.) The buscuits came from a recipie that recently appeared in the Star Tribune. The biggest problem I had was making the buscuits the right height. My buscuit cutter has a top and isn't quite an inch, so I ended up making half inch buscuits and stacking them. This turned out wonderfully, as they ended up having a "seam" to spilt.
I would have been starving in that Parisian garret. At least in this post-feminist, buttermilk buscuit world I eat really well.
*thud* <-- The sound of younger-me having died instantly of a heart attack from the shock of it all.
I would have believed, however, that I'd grow up to be a published author. I had a pretty powerful sense of my destiny for greatness.
I *might* have been a little horrified by all the romance titles and the psuedonym, but, I was much snobbier about such things back then. I thought Country Western music was for hicks only and I would have told you opera sucked.
Of course, it just demonstrates how old I am by the fact that my high school still had a catagory for "Biggest Women's _Libber_". Who even says THAT any more? We're all feminists now, thank you ver-y much. Heck, most of us are probably post-feminists or something.... I don't know.
Anyway, that was just a huge lead-up to the fact that I wanted to shared with you all that I made the most AWESOME buttermilk buscuits last night. Actually, the whole meal was pretty spectacular, as I tried a new recipie for "drummies" as well. (Whiskey/maple syrup coated in the crock pot. Nom. Nom. Nom.) The buscuits came from a recipie that recently appeared in the Star Tribune. The biggest problem I had was making the buscuits the right height. My buscuit cutter has a top and isn't quite an inch, so I ended up making half inch buscuits and stacking them. This turned out wonderfully, as they ended up having a "seam" to spilt.
I would have been starving in that Parisian garret. At least in this post-feminist, buttermilk buscuit world I eat really well.
