Ham and Swiss Biscuits

I made smothered pork chops on Tuesday night and nobody was there to eat them but me. Kids at Brianna's. Apartment quiet. Just me and the cast iron and the onions going soft in the pan and the pork chops browning the way Mama showed me Γçö seasoned with garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, black pepper, a little cayenne, dredged in flour, seared until the crust is golden. Then the gravy: onions, a splash of chicken broth, the fond scraped from the bottom of the pan, thickened with the leftover flour, poured over the chops, lid on, low heat, forty-five minutes. The apartment smelled like Mama's kitchen on the east side. It smelled like Sunday. It smelled like Marc.

I ate alone at the kitchen table. Two chops, rice, and a silence that was almost comfortable. Almost. I'm getting better at alone. Not good at it Γçö I don't think I'll ever be good at it Γçö but better. The nights without the kids used to feel like punishment. Now they feel like intermission. The show isn't over. The actors are just offstage for a minute. They'll be back Wednesday.

Dad's doctor appointment this week. Mama called to report: kidneys are holding, blood sugar is manageable, the neuropathy in his feet is getting worse. He can't feel his toes some days. For a man who stood on a factory floor for thirty-one years, losing feeling in his feet is its own kind of cruelty. I went by after work Thursday and he was in the recliner, Tigers on, volume too loud, Mama in the kitchen fussing about his sodium intake. He looked smaller than I remember. When did my father get small? He was enormous when I was a kid Γçö six-one, broad shoulders, hands like baseball mitts. Now he's shrinking, and the recliner is swallowing him, and I sat next to him and watched the Tigers lose and neither of us said anything important and everything was important.

Brought the leftover pork chops. Mama heated them up and made a plate for Dad and he ate every bite and said, "Not bad." From Ronald Carter, that's a standing ovation. Mama caught my eye across the kitchen and smiled Γçö the small, private smile she gives when she's proud but won't say it out loud because Carter women show love through food and criticism, never through compliments. I smiled back. The pork chops were perfect and my father is getting old and my children are growing and the world keeps turning and the gravy holds it all together. Literally. Figuratively. Always.

Dad ate every last bite of those leftover pork chops and said “not bad,” and I’ve been riding that compliment all week. If you know, you know. For the next time the apartment is quiet and I want something warm and shareable — something I can wrap in foil and drop on my parents’ counter without making a production of it — these Ham and Swiss Biscuits are exactly that. Unpretentious, filling, made with love that doesn’t announce itself. Carter family approved, even if nobody says so out loud.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 10 biscuits

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/3 cup cold unsalted butter, cubed
3/4 cup whole milk or buttermilk
6 oz deli ham, thinly sliced and roughly chopped
4 oz Swiss cheese, shredded (about 1 cup)
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard (optional, for spreading)
1 tablespoon melted butter, for brushing

Instructions

Preheat. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it.
Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and garlic powder. Add the cold cubed butter and work it into the flour with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining.
Add fillings. Fold the chopped ham and shredded Swiss cheese into the flour mixture until evenly distributed.
Bring it together. Pour in the milk or buttermilk and stir gently with a fork just until the dough comes together. Do not overmix — a shaggy, slightly sticky dough is exactly right.
Shape. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and pat to about 3/4-inch thickness. Use a 2 1/2-inch round cutter (or a drinking glass) to cut out biscuits. Re-pat scraps once to cut additional biscuits. Place them close together on the prepared baking sheet for soft sides, or spaced apart for crispier edges.
Brush and bake. Brush the tops with melted butter. Bake for 13–15 minutes, until the tops are golden and the biscuits are cooked through.
Serve. Let cool for 5 minutes. Spread with a thin swipe of Dijon mustard if you like, or eat them plain — warm, as-is, standing over the counter if that’s where the night finds you.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ham and Swiss Biscuits — When the Gravy’s Gone, You Still Need Something Warm