The Power of the Cheesy Biscuit

 First of all, Happy Thanksgiving! Here's hoping you're enjoying a day with family and friends.

We're all heading to The Varmint's ma and pa, Pat and Monte's place this afternoon for the Big Feast, Football and Hangout Session.

I'm supposed to be baking my decadent Super Cheesy Biscuits as one of my offerings, but thought I would pause for a quick blogging timeout, due to the fact that The Varmint just whisked The Dictatrix to Diperlandia for an all-expenses paid trip to fun with the bum.

And look - Gramma-J just arrived to baby wrangle, too! That means I've got double-coverage this morning, which is no coincidence: It only proves that people will do just about anything for Super Cheesy Biscuits.

I'm not kidding. Getting the biscuits made is just the first step. Acquiring the biscuit is another. I have seen people squabble over the last biscuit, steal them to take home, wrap them carefully in foil and stash them away in hidden recesses of their purses. I've even seen people eat them off the ground after the batch was dropped in the dirt while backpacking. But that's another story.

It's not that I'm a fantastic cook. It's not even the Super Cheesy Biscuits. I believe it's The Power of The Carb that leads people to such behavior. You can take your juicy turkey meat, your robust cabernet sauvignon, your perfectly braised veggies. All wonderful items that I fantasize about on a regular basis.

But in my experience, The Carb is King when it comes to making people truly food-crazy: Listen to people talk about mashed potatoes with butter and gravy, hot fresh crusty bread with roasted garlic, rich flavorful stuffing, creamy pumpkin pie with a flaky homemade crust. People get a far away look in their eyes. You can hear it in their voices. Lust. These are just a few of the things that make Thanksgiving thanks giving, but they are the things that render your average individual helpless to say "No thank you." Instead they say, "Maybe just a taste," or fret over complicated internal calorie negotiations. What other food group renders perfectly rational individuals positively incapable of maintaining their diet?

And to that I say, "Who cares?!" Thanksgiving and Christmas are two days of the year where it shouldn't matter. So dive in. Throw caution to the wind. Plan a walk after you eat (it helps ease the guilt and makes your overbloated tummy feel less inflated) and enjoy. After all, there will never be another Thanksgiving like this Thanksgiving - so grab your Super Cheesy Biscuit (whatever your Super Cheesy Biscuit might be), ditch the guilt, run for the hills and scarf it down in a quiet corner til nothing but crumbs remain.

It's one day a year and the way I see it, you deserve it.


Please enter your contact information, so we can verify you aren't a bottom-feeding spambot. We promise we won't pass it along to anyone.

I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >