Everyone once in a while I get an irresistible craving for bread and butter. I used to make popovers when the urge hit. But maybe because of my recent trips to Texas, it's biscuits I want to hold that butter.

I don't know how to make biscuits. It is probably really easy--and I just know one of you is going to send me exactly the right recipe. Meantime, during my last minute grocery run for the "hors d'oeuvre" portion of Thanksgiving for which I have been made responsible (pistachios, anyone?) I happened upon the refrigerator case full of ready-made rolls. I reached for the fat one marked "flaky biscuits," hoping that somewhere in the foodie universe I would not have karma points taken away from me by that Pantheon of Judges, featuring Michael Pollan, as Apollo, and Alice Waters, as Artemis.

(And while I'm on it, may I rather grumpily note that though I always adore Maira Kalman's illustrations, she could make the phone book lively, I think of her as more of a Necco Wafer kind of goddess, rather than a Broccoli Gal, if you know what I mean. So while it is all well and good that she is making Pollan's food rules even more fetching, I'm about to get a wee bit weary of twee foodie superiority--because there are times when highly processed is exactly what I'm looking for...however, for a change, I digress.)

Anyway, after nearly having heart failure when my cardboard roll exploded open after I was directed to "press spoon at seal", I cooked the biscuits, slathered on a very fresh slab of butter, and dug into the new mystery I'm consuming, Original Sin, by P. D. James, one of my favorites. This brings me full circle to my original sin, bread and butter.

An addicting mystery: That, dear readers, is the horror part--not the cardboard biscuits.

Whatever you are eating, I wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving!

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