Backroads and Biscuits
Seasonal fruit picked fresh and preserved in all it smashed, jammed and jellied glory helps spread the love.
Handed down from a time when no part of the pig went to waste and bread was always a staple, country ham with a biscuit to put it on has been a tradition since South Carolina was a colony.
There’s something about a biscuit that brings you home. It’s more than flour, lard, and buttermilk—it’s a warm, flaky memory folded in layers, baked golden like the morning sun peeking through Spanish moss. And when you’re on the backroads of the South, those winding ribbons of two-lane blacktop stretching through pine forests, cotton fields, and sleepy towns, biscuits become more than food. They’re a promise. A pause. A piece of the past served up hot.
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