Broken Hearted Newsletter Launch
And a recipe for Pull-Apart Salt + Pepper Cheddar-Frico Biscuits that I really want you to make.
I turned down a cookbook deal recently. I agonized over the decision: lost sleep, leaned on my friends, my family, my girlfriend, my girlfriend’s friends and family. Ultimately, I didn’t bite (the reasons for which perhaps I’ll expose in a future newsletter, perhaps one featuring a stiff cocktail recipe), and despite that it was my decision not to move forward, it was an excruciating one, because it’s a dream of mine to write a book. For a few days there, I was nursing a massively broken heart. A bit dramatic? Maybe. I can’t help it.
The recipes I was so excited to catapult into the world, all of the unrealized concepts borne from my years of culinary training just waiting to emerge as tablespoons and bake times and 10-inch skillets… all of that was suddenly destined for my mental cutting room floor. I felt gutted.
Reminds me of a breakup that you initiate but that your heart isn’t entirely on board with.
And then I landed on the remedy:
I thought… why not start a recipe newsletter and put it all out there anyway? And so, da-da-da-duh! I hereby launch NOODLE. (Why NOODLE? Click here to find out.)
Besides, like a breakup, the only way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
And I’m about to get WAY under it. Let’s go.
RECIPE #1: Pull-Apart Salt + Pepper Cheddar-Frico Biscuits
Nothing mends a broken heart like booze CHEESE. In the slew of recipes I’ve been developing for this launch, these biscuits stuck out as most worthy of being NOODLE’s inaugural headliner. I kinda can’t believe these aren’t already a thing, but they’re not. Seriously— Google “frico biscuits.”
These biscuits are the epitome of how I noodle. That is, the way I experiment, improvise, and create in the kitchen. It tends to send me on a bit of twisty-turny journey, and it starts with an idea…
For a long while, I’ve thought about upturning a classic drop biscuit and folding some new-fangled energy into the ol’ staple. And so I set to it. I immediately got too scientific for my own good, and, thinking I was genius, attempted (way too many times) to acidify heavy cream with vinegar. That is, make buttermilk out of heavy cream. No one does that, and I’ve always wondered why. Needless to say, now I know. These first versions were standout, but after an insane number of side-by-side tastings, they weren’t necessarily any better than a biscuit made with plain ol’ cream.
I then played with a cheesy-walnut-date biscuit (surprisingly not recommended), and meandered into a version speckled with dukkah, and another with spinach and ricotta. All while noodling with varying combinations of buttermilk, yogurt, vodka, vinegar, and even whipped cream in the dough.
Ultimately, all of this noodling helped me hone in on a recipe for a great biscuit: pillowy, peppery, salty, rich, and light. Sorry, I’m gonna say it… and PERFECT. But this didn’t feel good enough.
Then, when one lucky batch— made with a dough laden with many handfuls of cheddar— resulted in biscuits with breached seams and toasty-cheesy skirts around their edges, the frico concept emerged.
The recipe capitalizes on the inherent internal cheesiness of the biscuits by bestowing upon them an extra, external cheesy identity: each fluffy mound is surrounded by a lattice of nutty (cop-out adjective, but it’s true) frico that’s super delicate and crackly, but sturdy enough to cling to a biscuit’s circumference when pulled from its interconnected webbing of toasted cheddar.
I’m no fool. And you’re not, either. Because we both know that palatal pleasure is as much about the taste of the food as it is about THE TEXTURAL EATING EXPERIENCE. Analogy-wise, you could liken the variation in texture of these quirky little biscuits to perfectly cooked bacon or the best chocolate chip cookie: simultaneously crisp and yieldingly tender.
Make a soft scramble and eat the biscuits alongside. Or serve them with any stew or soup or roast or braise or salad or fish or sauté of a trillion stray things in your fridge. CORRECT: These biscuits are not just for breakfast. They will make you happy. You’ll feel proud to have made them. They will change your life for a moment.
And to think… if I had accepted that book deal, these biscuits would never have seen the light of day. Maybe they should be called the EHFAR* biscuits.
*Everything happens for a reason
Pull-Apart Salt + Pepper Cheddar-Frico Biscuits
Makes 10 biscuits
Frico: A thin, lacy cheese crisp, made by baking finely grated cheese (traditionally Parmigiano-Reggiano) in the oven or in a skillet.
Please allow me to micromanage your eating experience: These biscuits are best enjoyed WARM, within a day or two of baking. They reheat super well, at 325 degrees for 10-12 minutes. Don’t cheat this! You can also freeze fully baked biscuits and rewarm in oven. This recipe is easily halved, too.
A note on cheddar: more and more I’m seeing 7-ounce blocks of cheddar, rather than 8-ounce blocks. I’ve tested the recipe using 7 ounces of cheese and the biscuits turn out equally delicious, so if that’s your only option, go for it.
1 stick unsalted butter, plus additional for greasing parchment paper
2 ¼ cups plus 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour, divided
8 ounces sharp white cheddar, grated on the large holes of a box grater, divided (roughly 3 ½ cups lightly packed cups total)
2 ¾ teaspoons baking powder
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 ¾ cups heavy cream
Flaky salt, for finishing
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees with a rack in the center. Line a rimmed, half-sheet baking pan (13” x 17 ½”) with parchment paper. Lightly grease the parchment with butter.
2. Cut the butter into ½-inch cubes. Return to the refrigerator to keep cold.
3. In a medium bowl, combine the 2 teaspoons of flour and HALF of the cheese. Toss to coat and transfer to the refrigerator. (This is the frico mixture; you’ll sprinkle it around the biscuits later, halfway through baking.)
4. In a large bowl, whisk to combine the remaining 2 ¼ cups flour, baking powder, 1 teaspoon pepper, and 1¼ teaspoons salt. Add the butter and the remaining cheese and toss to combine.
5. Using your hands, begin working the butter and cheese into the dry ingredients, rubbing, pressing, and flattening the butter cubes as if you’re slowly “snapping” your fingers. As you “snap,” run your thumb along the top portions of your 2nd and 3rd fingers. Continue until the butter is well-incorporated and the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some slightly larger, pea-sized pieces of butter remaining.
Working somewhat quickly, this process takes me 2 ½ to 3 ½ minutes, depending on how cold the butter is. If you feel the mixture has warmed at this point, transfer to the refrigerator for 10 minutes to chill. (Biscuit dough should remain nice and cold; chilled ingredients encourage steam in the oven and yield more tender results. Cold dough also makes for biscuits that hold their shape when they bake.)
6. Pour the cream around the sides and into the center of the bowl, simultaneously stirring and folding with a rubber spatula. Continue stirring only until no dry bits remain, being sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl. (Unincorporated flour always seems to collect there.) Dough will be a bit shaggy and rough. To prevent tough biscuits, DON’T OVERMIX.
7. Working with a heaping ⅓ cup of the dough at a time, gently scoop mounds with a large spoon or ⅓ cup measure, about 2 ½ to 3-inches in diameter. Place on the prepared pan. Repeat with the remaining dough, forming 10 rounds total, spacing them 1 ½ to 2-inches apart and evening them out as you go. Sprinkle the tops with flaky salt and a generous amount of additional cracked black pepper. (If you have the time and the space, transfer baking sheet to the refrigerator or freezer to chill for 10 minutes or so while you clean up, which will help the biscuits keep their shape.) Transfer to the oven.
8. Reduce oven temperature to 400 degrees. (Going in at a hotter temperature will help set the shape of the biscuits, and reducing the temperature will let the biscuits properly cook through without burning first.) Bake until edges are set and the biscuits are beginning to turn lightly golden in spots, about 13-15 minutes. (See mid-bake photo, below.)
9. Retrieve the reserved frico mixture from the refrigerator. Remove the baking sheet from the oven. Sprinkle the cheese to surround the biscuits, coating the surface of the baking sheet. If any cheese falls on top of the biscuits, that’s totally fine. Note: if the biscuits have spread too close to one another, gently nudge them apart with a metal spatula before sprinkling the cheese. Return to the oven (rotating the baking sheet so that the biscuits that were in the back are now in the front) and continue to bake until the cheese has frico’ed and turned lightly golden, about 12-14 minutes more.
You’re going for lightly golden. The color of the cheese should be the real indicator of doneness here: better to slightly underbake the biscuits than overbake the frico. (Frico that turns too golden can taste a touch bitter… so watch that oven.)
Let sit until just cool enough to handle, and, using a small spatula or knife, break apart into frico-enrobed biscuits. Eat warm!
REMINDER! A cold biscuit ain’t delicious. Reheat any leftover biscuits at 325 degrees until warmed through, about 10-12 minutes.
They can't wait for YOUUUU!
buttermilk heavy cream? isn't that just sour cream or creme fraiche?