← Back to Blog

Yeast Biscuits — The Soft Food a Big Day Needs

Tyler and Jessica brought Marcus and Jade to Houston Saturday. Three-week-old Jade in the car for five hours. She slept the whole way. Tyler said it was a miracle. Jessica said it was the Tran genes, which sleep through everything. They came straight from the highway to Mai's house. Mai met Jade. The meeting was small and quiet and the most important thing that happened all year. Mai held the baby. Mai said, in Vietnamese, "Cháu ngoan của bà" — grandmother's good little one — and Mai's voice cracked, which is the closest Mai gets to crying.

Jade's middle name is Mai. Tyler had told me on the phone last week but had asked me not to tell Mai because they wanted to tell her in person. Tyler waited until Mai had been holding Jade for ten minutes. Then he said, "Ma, her name is Jade Mai Tran." Mai went still. She held the baby tighter. Linh was in the room. Linh's eyes filled. Mine did. Tyler was crying openly. Jessica had her hand on Tyler's shoulder. Jade slept through her own naming ceremony, which she will never remember, but which we will all carry forward.

Cooked dinner at Mai's — kept it simple because the day had been emotional and people needed soft food. Cháo gà (chicken congee) with all the toppings. White rice. Pickled vegetables. A small dish of caramelized pork. Mai ate sitting in her chair holding Jade with one arm and eating with the other. I have never seen her so happy. The matriarch with the great-granddaughter on her lap and the food she taught me to make on the table — the algebra of a long life resolving into a single afternoon.

Drove home Sunday night after they left. Mai alone in her house. Me alone in mine. Jade and Marcus on the road back to Midland. Lily at the restaurant. Emma working a night shift. Linh going home to Richard. The family scattered to their evenings. But we had been together. The grandmother had met the great-granddaughter named after her. That's the kind of week that holds you up for the next ten years.

Cháo gà was always going to be the centerpiece that night — it’s what the moment called for — but I wanted something on the table that could be torn and passed and eaten with one hand, because I already knew Mai wasn’t going to put that baby down. These yeast biscuits are what I reach for when the day has already done its work on everyone: they’re soft, they’re warm, they rise without much fuss, and they sit quietly beside whatever else you’ve made without demanding attention. The kind of bread that holds a table together without ever needing to be the center of it.

Yeast Biscuits

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 35 min (includes rise) | Servings: 14

Ingredients

  • 1 package (2 1/4 tsp) active dry yeast
  • 1/4 cup warm water (105–110°F)
  • 1 tsp sugar, divided
  • 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp baking soda
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
  • 1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
  • 2 tbsp melted butter, for brushing

Instructions

  1. Activate the yeast. Combine warm water, yeast, and 1/4 tsp of the sugar in a small bowl. Stir and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy. If the mixture doesn’t foam, start over with fresh yeast.
  2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and remaining 3/4 tsp sugar until evenly combined.
  3. Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter cubes to the flour mixture. Using a pastry cutter or your fingertips, work the butter into the flour until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Work quickly so the butter stays cold.
  4. Combine the wet ingredients. Stir the buttermilk into the yeast mixture. Pour the combined liquid into the flour-butter mixture and stir gently with a fork just until a shaggy dough comes together. Do not overmix.
  5. First rise. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead gently 4–5 times until it just comes together into a smooth ball. Place in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 45–60 minutes, until noticeably puffed.
  6. Shape the biscuits. Preheat oven to 400°F. Turn the risen dough onto a floured surface and pat to 3/4-inch thickness. Cut with a 2 1/2-inch round cutter, pressing straight down without twisting. Re-roll scraps once. Place biscuits on a parchment-lined baking sheet, sides just touching.
  7. Second rest. Cover loosely and let the cut biscuits rest 10 minutes while the oven finishes preheating. This gives them a final lift before baking.
  8. Bake. Bake 13–16 minutes until the tops are golden and the biscuits have risen fully. Brush immediately with melted butter. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 168 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 218mg

Bobby Tran
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 478 of Bobby’s 30-year story · Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?