Guess who's sleeping on the sofa?

I made pot roast last week and I needed to find a way to use the leftovers. In the same week my husband had asked me what meat pies were. We know what pot pies are, but since the question arose out of watching Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street and in specific, Lovett’s rather uncompelling interpretation of the British favorite, I thought I should investigate further.

                                                                                     

I really didn’t know what a real British meat pie was, and I’m still not sure I completely know, but it lead me in a fun direction, at least until my husband called it a Hot Pocket. He very nearly didn’t get to eat dinner. No matter what your loved ones decide to call it, it’s sumptuous.

Country Lovin’

As with any child, when I was little, the more I could get my hands in the better. Sunday biscuits fit that bill perfectly. I would never be one of those girls that couldn’t find a good husband – a girl that couldn’t make a biscuit would never find a good husband, or something like that.

My mom made biscuits with self rising flour, Crisco and milk. I have had 15 years of perfecting my biscuits and she would cringe if she knew that I have taken some liberties with her recipe, which makes a very good biscuit. Well actually my recipe is so far from her recipe, that I guess they aren’t even related. Sorry Mom.

I think technique is the key and I approach mine with scientific precision. If you deviate from my instructions and end up breaking a tooth on the rocks that come out of your oven, then you can’t sue me. You’ve been warned.