I don't know how old all y'alls are, but I feel like I know you well enough to tell you that the dear Mr. Man and I are now the big 3-0. But as the old trope has it, you're never too old to learn from your elders and betters, right?
The morning after Thanksgiving, Logan's dad GQ (not his real name, but this has been the guy's nickname for going on 20 years) showed Logan how to make his famed blueberry cat head biscuits, based on a recipe he learned from his mother. Ma Nean made biscuits multiple times each day and could feed a crowd of 50, usually made up entirely of nearby family, at the drop of a hat. And often did.
The additions of blueberry and the sugar/vanilla glaze are GQ's own, though.
First, you take a bowl of flour, and you wallow out a depression in the middle. Then, you add a handful of shortening, and just the right amount of milk (edited to add: and a dollop of honey, and two tablespoons of sugar).
Isn't that always the way, with the old recipes? Nothing written down, everything by feel.
Add some blueberries to the dough, if you'd like. Then pat out small rounds between your floured hands and put them in a greased cast-iron skillet, and top these rounds with a bit of melted butter (GQ says this was vegetable oil and his mother used bacon grease. Go with whatever fat you have available).
The biscuits then go into a cold oven. GQ insists it's to give them a little time to rise in the oven, but another theory holds that Ma Nean just consistently forgot to preheat the oven until the biscuits were ready to go in. Controversy.
Children and adults alike patiently awaited the finished baked goods. Meanwhile, the smell of baking bread filled the kitchen and GQ put together the glaze. It's just powdered sugar, milk, and a dash of vanilla - I didn't think there was honey, but I see it on the table, so.
When the biscuits come out of the oven, pour the glaze over them.
I'm thinking you might have one remaining question, though - why "cat head" biscuits? If you look around online, there are all sorts of strange theories, from a vague one about feed to one that says they're giant and fluffy like a cat head. But Logan says it's because if you look at them from above, they have the exact wedge shape of a cat's head. Whatevs, they tasty.
And there you are. Someday, we might even get him to write the recipe down, but I think it's unlikely. Until then, if you feel like making Southern biscuits, Alton Brown's recipe is a good place to start.
But biscuit-making wasn't the only thing we learned from GQ that day. No, way later on, he threw on his cold-weather overalls and took the boys outside for a tutorial in woodsplitting.
We learned that the boys aren't very good at splitting logs. More practice is definitely necessary.
Unfortunately, between the three guys (Brandon took a few swings too, earlier in the day) they somehow managed to break the unbreakable axe. So that ended the lessons for the evening - and I know what GQ's getting for Christmas! (Unless he has to get a new one to chop wood for the woodpile before the end of the month - those logs aren't going to split and stack themselves, you know.)