Tonight, I was planning on making creamed chicken on biscuits. I don't know what I was thinking. The recipe I had had five ingredients and I didn't like the look of it. Any recipe I found in my cookbooks took 2-3 hours. I had already told Nick we're having biscuits and when I changed my mind on the creamed chicken he was disappointed about not getting the biscuits. So, I said to Alex, "Do you want a 'breakfast dinner' of biscuits, scrambled eggs and bacon?" He said, "Only if you have swiss cheese and ham to put in the scrambled eggs." Geesh. Luckily, I did. So, that's what we had. These were good biscuits - maybe even great. Nick declared them, with all earnestness, "The greatest biscuits of my life." As I was still recovering from my laughing jag about Nick's comment Alex said, "Yeah, Dad, these are fantastic." So tasting them a little more critically, I realized they were some of the best I'd ever had. Certainly the best I'd ever made. Instead of being heavy and doughey (sp?) they had a dozen flaky layers with a nice crunch on the top and bottom. The buttermilk kept them moist and tangy. Maybe Nick was right. The real problem here is that they're not going to accept Bisquick anymore.

Oh, the eggs were pretty good too.