Sour Cream-Leek Biscuits

July in Savannah. The heat that sits. The humidity that holds. The garden that thrives in conditions that would kill a lesser garden but that MY garden considers "ideal growing weather" because my garden is a Henderson garden and Henderson things thrive in conditions that would make other things quit. The Cherokee Purples are coming in heavy. The watermelon — second generation — is football-sized and on track. The Sapelo peppers are fire-engine red. The okra has officially exceeded its boundaries and is now invading the tomato cages. I have spoken to the okra about respecting borders. The okra has not listened. Okra never listens. Okra is the teenager of the vegetable world.

The cooking class preparations have begun. The community center sent me a curriculum template, which is a document designed for people who plan things in columns and rows, and I am a person who plans things in pots and pans. I stared at the template for twenty minutes and then I called Mrs. Lucille, who was a school secretary for thirty years and who understands templates the way I understand seasoning, and she came over and we translated my cooking knowledge into boxes on a page.

Six weeks. Six classes. Six recipes with history. Week one: shrimp and grits — the foundation of Lowcountry cooking, the dish that uses stone-ground grits from the islands and creek shrimp from the marsh and enough butter to make a cardiologist weep. The history: grits came from the Muskogee people. The shrimp came from the water. The combination came from the Gullah women who put them together and created something that is bigger than its ingredients. Week two: she-crab soup. Week three: Frogmore stew. Week four: collard greens and cornbread. Week five: peach cobbler. Week six: a full Lowcountry meal, cooked by the students, eaten by everyone.

Mrs. Lucille said, "Dorothy, this is not just cooking. This is a college course." I said, "Mrs. Lucille, this is better than a college course. A college course gives you a degree. This gives you dinner."

Made shrimp and grits tonight. Class prep. The first of many practice runs. The grits were stone-ground. The shrimp were perfect. The butter was generous, as always, as forever. I am ready to teach. I have been ready since Hattie Pearl handed me a wooden spoon and said, "Stir." The class is just the continuation.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Shrimp and grits is the centerpiece — always has been, always will be — but a proper Lowcountry table does not let the centerpiece stand alone. While I was running my practice session tonight, the biscuits came out at the same time as the grits, and Mrs. Lucille, who had stayed to help me fill in the curriculum boxes, looked at her plate and said, “Dorothy, you cannot teach Week One without these on the table.” She was not wrong. A good biscuit is not a side dish. It is a statement of intent. Sour cream keeps them tender, leeks keep them honest, and the whole thing disappears before anyone has properly sat down.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 14 minutes | Total Time: 29 minutes | Servings: 10 biscuits

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
2 medium leeks (white and light green parts only), cleaned, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced (about 1 cup)
3/4 cup full-fat sour cream, cold
2 tablespoons cold whole milk, plus more for brushing

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
Soften the leeks. In a small skillet over medium-low heat, melt 1 teaspoon of butter. Add the sliced leeks with a pinch of salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to turn golden, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and pepper until evenly combined.
Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter cubes to the flour mixture. Using your fingertips or a pastry cutter, work the butter into the flour until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with a few pea-sized pieces remaining. Do not overwork — those butter pockets are what give you your layers.
Add leeks and sour cream. Fold in the cooled leeks. Add the sour cream and milk, stirring gently with a fork just until the dough comes together. It will be shaggy and slightly sticky — that is correct.
Shape the biscuits. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Gently pat it to a 3/4-inch thickness. Using a 2 1/2-inch round cutter (or the rim of a glass), cut out biscuits, pressing straight down without twisting. Gather scraps once, re-pat, and cut remaining biscuits.
Bake. Place biscuits on the prepared baking sheet with sides just touching. Brush tops lightly with milk. Bake for 12–14 minutes, until risen and golden brown on top. Serve warm, ideally immediately, ideally next to a bowl of shrimp and grits.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sour Cream-Leek Biscuits — The Side That Belongs on Every Lowcountry Table