Ah, comfort food.

You have no idea how much we were looking forward to the Fourth of July. First, we were going to drive to my parents’ house for our annual Red, White, and Blue Breakfast–an event that started after Momma handed Daddy the business end of a sparkler and we had to come up with a fireworks alternative.

Then we were going to drive to Jeff’s hometown for the Fourth of July Family Reunion. Imagine hundreds of people gathered near a huge oak tree with so many grills going that they use refrigerators powered by hundreds of yards of extension cords to store the uncooked meat. Older people explaining how everyone’s related and children underfoot. Taking your turn shooting the potato cannon–a PVC pipe that, with a little pump action, will blast a raw baking potato into the middle of next week.

And after a day with family, we were going to drive to the small-town festival where we got engaged. It’s a sign post on blacktop, but the entire city raises money 364 days of the year for the fireworks show, and it is spectacular. People drive in for miles.

But Jeff got sick. Very sick. The nurse told me to restrict his meals to white flour, which was quite a blow to a man with visions of slathered ribs dancing in his head.

So, I baked him some angel biscuits.

Angel biscuits are the biscuit/roll hybrid that have been a staple of Southern ladies’ luncheons and the dinner table for at least 60 years. They are light, foolproof (thanks to three leaveners), and the yeast gives them a unique flavor. Plus, the dough will keep in the refrigerator for up to a week, so you can bake them off as needed.

While I was looking for the right recipe, I found Kitty Crider’s “Anything For Mother,” a column the food editor wrote about flying to visit her dying mother, a Southern cook who had lost her appetite. Kitty offers to cook anything. Her mother sits silently for a long time, sips her tea, and settles on angel biscuits. It’s a beautiful piece. One worth reading.

Just like Kitty, I burned the first batch. But the second batch was delicious. Jeff ate enough to take his antibiotic, and I ate enough for a third-world country.

After the jump, you’ll find the angel biscuit recipe from The Blue Willow Inn Restaurant in Social Circle, Ga. These biscuits are true comfort food–easy to prepare and proven to comfort the sick, soothe the soul, and serve as an excellent vehicle for both butter and love, which are often the same.
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My sister is always telling me she can’t do the Tuesdays with Dorie recipes at home. Too many pans, too many steps, weird ingredients.

Jennifer, this one is for you: apple cheddar scones.

You probably have most of the ingredients right now. And if you don’t, this is a great recipe for substitutions. Not feeling the apples? Replace the 1/2 cup of apple juice with water and the 1/2 cup of dried apples with something else (i.e. a 1/2 cup of smoked bacon, country ham, sausage, dried blueberries, dried cranberries). Or trade the cheese for toasted walnuts or pecans.

Seriously, you don’t even need a rolling pin. Stir the ingredients together, sprinkle a little flour on the counter, and pat the dough into a circle or rectangle, 1/2-inch thick. Then cut it into 12 slices. If you’ve patted it into a circle, cut it pizza-style. If you’ve done a rectangle, cut it into 12 smaller rectangles or grab a glass and cut it biscuit-style. Then place the slices on a baking sheet, and bake them for about 15 minutes.

If you don’t want 12 scones, divide the recipe in half.

The apple cheddar scones are great plain or with butter. But if you decide to go with fruit and nuts instead, try making a glaze with powdered sugar, milk (or cream), and a little vanilla. And invite me over.

For the full recipe, visit Karina of The Floured Apron.

Do you have the Barefoot Contessa fantasy?

The one where you come home to mammoth bouquets of freshly-picked, artfully arranged flowers. Tomato and feta salad packed into Chinese takeout containers. Picnics on the beach and fireside dinners. The perfect cocktail for every meal. A refrigerator filled with exotic cheeses, olives, and homemade lemon curd. And friends who are international experts in garden lighting and table settings.

You know, the fantasy where you’re the Contessa’s husband, Jeffrey.

Guilty as charged.

That’s why I was very excited to find the Barefoot Bloggers, a new group celebrating Ina Garten, aka the Barefoot Contessa. Twice a month, we’ll be cooking and baking from her books and Food Network recipes.

Today’s inaugural recipe was Herbed-Baked Eggs. Gratin dishes filled with eggs, cream, and butter, broiled with a crunchy topping of fresh herbs, Parmesan, and salt and pepper. I even got to use a little of my own freshly-grown basil. How Contessa is that?

Easy and really delicious.

So, I wouldn’t really trade places with Ina’s Jeffrey (those wool sweaters would rub me raw), but I’m looking forward to trying out these recipes with my Jeff. I might even spring for those cute Chinese takeout boxes. He’s worth it.

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So, way back when Tuesdays with Dorie made Brioche Raisin Snails, I used the other half of the dough to make this week’s recipe: Pecan Honey Sticky Buns.

If you don’t make another thing you ever see on this site, make these.

Baptized in honey.

Christened with pecans.

Worthy a two-syllable damn.

Even after you eat one of these perfectly golden, buttery sticky buns, you’ll find yourself snacking on the gooey orphaned pecans at the bottom of the dish every time you walk by. Because willpower is so overrated.

And who needs to wear shorts?

Nom. Nom. Nom.

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Last week, I joined Tuesdays with Dorie, an online baking group committed to making one recipe a week from the same cookbook: “Baking: From My Home to Yours” by Dorie Greenspan. My first assignment? Brioche Raisin Snails.

After a night spent making the lovely, buttery dough and Dorie’s pastry cream, I spent the next morning lost in rolling, shaping and baking the snails. And since I couldn’t let the other half of the brioche dough go to waste, I prepped a quick batch of Dorie’s Pecan Sticky Buns.

A bounty such as this must be shared. As soon as the snails were glazed, I packed them, along with the still-rising sticky buns, and drove the 45 minutes to my parents’ house.

I had an ulterior motive. My mother always has a crockpot of corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day. I baked the sticky buns there and also left some snails. She sent me home with all the makings for the World’s Best Reubens. So good, my pup curled himself around the package of corned beef nestled in the backseat and slept all the way home.And the sharing continues. I sent Jeff to work with the rest of the snails and sticky buns this morning. All that’s left are the memories, the smell (oh, the smell!), and a sink full of dishes. Well worth it.

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