BEST Homemade Biscuits

If you ever want to win my family’s hearts (well, their stomachs), just toss a batch of fresh biscuits on the table. Seriously, I think my first real triumph as a home cook was the day I didn’t ruin these—imagine a younger me, flour everywhere and no patience, but somehow the kitchen still smelled like a Southern bakery. There’s something about tearing into homemade biscuits—still warm, steam escaping—that makes you forget every kitchen disaster from before. And okay, not to get off track, but one time I tried making these during a heatwave and regretted it immediately. Needless to say, butter and heat are mortal enemies, so maybe check your kitchen temp, unlike me.

Why I’m Always Making These (and You Might, Too)

I make these whenever I need a pick-me-up or, honestly, if there’s leftover soup begging for company. The kids (my husband, too, but he pretends it’s for them) go absolutely bonkers for biscuits on Sunday mornings, especially with a little cinnamon sugar. And here’s the thing—these never last long. I used to dread rolling out dough, sure I’d either overwork it or end up with something so dry you could use it as a doorstop. But once I figured out it doesn’t have to be perfect (no measuring contest, folks), homemade biscuits became my secret weapon for cozy nights and lazy brunches. Also, this is the only recipe my picky Aunt Jan ever asked me to share—though she claims her dog ate half her first batch (sure, Jan).

What You’ll Need (And My Grandma’s Odd Substitution)

• 2 cups all-purpose flour (sometimes I sneak in half a cup of whole wheat; it’s… good, but maybe not my best idea)
• 1 tablespoon baking powder (my gran swore by Clabber Girl, but honestly whatever is fresher)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt (kosher or sea, up to you; I once used pink salt, but that’s just showing off)
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, very cold (yes, you can use salted butter—just cut the extra salt a tad; I do that sometimes when I can’t be bothered)
• 3/4 cup cold buttermilk (plain yogurt thinned with a splash of milk works in a pinch—thanks, thriftiness)
• Optional: 1 tablespoon sugar for a touch of sweetness (I skip it for savory meals but the kids demand it for breakfast—kids, am I right?)

Alright, Let’s Make Some Biscuits

1. Preheat your oven to 450°F (or 230°C, though my old oven claimed otherwise). Line a baking tray with parchment or just grease it up—nobody cares.
2. Whisk your dry stuff (flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, sugar if using) in a large-ish bowl. I use a fork out of habit, but a whisk is technically correct.
3. Cut in the cold butter. Either grate it in, use a pastry cutter, or just go rogue and use your fingers. Quick tip: pop your butter in the freezer for 15 mins if your kitchen is warmer than toast. It should look crumbly, like lumpy sand at the beach, you know?
4. Pour in the buttermilk. Gently, with maybe a smidge more if the dough seems dry. Mix with a fork until just combined—it’ll look messy and maybe a bit scraggly, but that’s perfect.
5. Dump it all onto a floured surface. Pat (not roll) the dough to about an inch thick. Fold it over itself once or twice—this is where layers happen, or so I tell myself—and repeat. Doesn’t have to be scientific.
6. Cut out biscuits with a sharp cutter or a glass. No twisting! (Twisting seals the edges and your biscuits will rise funny. Or not at all, which has happened to me.) Gather scraps, re-pat, repeat.
7. Place biscuits snugly on the tray for soft sides, spaced apart for crispy edges. Brush with a bit of melted butter or milk if you’re feeling fancy (I usually forget this).
8. Bake 12 to 15 minutes, till tops are golden. Here’s where I always sneak a peek and sometimes panic that they’ll burn; they rarely do. Let cool just enough to not burn your fingers—though good luck with that.

A Few Notes (Lessons from the Biscuit Trenches)

• If they come out dense, it’s probably from overmixing. Actually, I find it works better if I leave some dryish bits in the dough—it all evens out in the oven.
• On second thought, the exact buttermilk quantity isn’t life or death. Wetter dough = fluffier biscuits, but trickier to handle.
• Someone will always eat the ugly ones first. No need to fret.
• Don’t stress if your oven runs hot or cold—use that oven thermometer you never knew you needed (or just check often, like I do).

Variations I’ve Dabbled With (Some Good, One… Not So Much)

• Add sharp cheddar and chives—makes it go with soup like nothing else. (I recommend this Serious Eats cheese biscuit recipe if you wanna riff further!)
• For sweet biscuits, add cinnamon and little diced apples—my daughter claims these are breakfast scones, but we don’t correct her.
• Once tried swapping in coconut oil. Not my best moment; tasted fine, but texture was odd. Wouldn’t really repeat that, but hey, you never know till you try.

Stuff for the Job (But You Don’t Need Every Gadget)

• Large bowl (or a salad bowl; whatever’s clean)
• Pastry cutter (but, like I said, fingers work if you don’t have one—just work fast)
• Biscuit cutter or drinking glass (don’t twist! Yes, I nag.)
• Baking tray and parchment (aluminum foil ain’t perfect but works)
• Rolling pin (or clean wine bottle, which, weirdly, is almost always nearby somehow)

Storing Biscuits (As If They’ll Last That Long)

You can keep them in an airtight tin for up to 2 days. They freeze, too, wrapped well, and warm up okay in the oven, but honestly, in my house there’s pretty much nothing left to store by bedtime. Like, mythical leftover biscuits.

Serving ‘Em Up (This is the Fun Part!)

Douse in honey or slap ‘em with sausage gravy. I personally like a thick smear of strawberry preserves—and if I’m feeling nostalgic, a big knob of salted butter. My uncle dunks them in chili for supper, which actually isn’t half bad (weird, but family tradition is family tradition). Sometimes, for tea, I nudge them toward scone territory with clotted cream, which my neighbor swears is the only proper way (she’s from Devon, so…)

Pro Tips (The Ones I Learned the Hard Way)

• Don’t rush the butter stage; I once tried soft butter and—well, never again, crumbly disaster city.
• Flour your cutter between every few biscuits; otherwise, they’ll cling like socks on a laundry day.
• If you roll the dough too thin, they’ll come out like hockey pucks. Best to pat gently and keep it chonky.

FAQ (Real Questions, Real Answers)

• Can I use self-rising flour? Sure can! Just skip the baking powder and soda, and cut back on salt a bit.
• What if I don’t have buttermilk? Out of luck—just kidding! Milk plus a squeeze of lemon juice works, or even watered-down yogurt. Not exactly the same, but it’ll do the job.
• Why didn’t my biscuits rise? Aha, classic! Either your baking powder’s tired, or maybe the dough got overworked—happens to the best of us, promise.
• Can I add stuff to them? Go wild! Herbs, cheese, bacon bits, dried fruit—you name it. Except maybe marshmallows. I, uh, don’t want to talk about that attempt.
• What’s the secret ingredient? My secret? Actually, it’s not a fancy thing, it’s just cold butter. Lame, but true. Cold butter is basically biscuit confidence.
• Any links you trust for more in-depth info? Oh totally—I like this one from King Arthur Baking and I always poke around Sally’s Baking Addiction when I feel stuck.

Toss your flour around, embrace the crumbs—and if your biscuits flop, know you’re in good company. Next time, add a splash more milk, or, you know, just blame the weather. Happy biscuiting!