High Brown Biscuits

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

“Pa stepped up into the open doorway and stood there blocking it with his wide short body. He said, “Ma, there’s a coupla fellas jus’ come along the road, an’ they wonder if we could spare a bite.”

Tom heard his mother’s voice, the remembered cool, calm drawl, friendly and humble,. “Let ’em come,” she said. “we got a-plenty. Tell ’em they got to wash their han’s. The bread is done. I’m jus’ takin’ up the side-meat now.” And the sizzle of the angry grease came from the stove.

“Pa stepped inside, clearing the door, and Tom looking in at his mother. She was lifting the curling slices of pork from the frying pan. The oven door was open, and a great pan of high brown biscuits stood waiting there. She looked out the door, but the sun was behind Tom, and she saw only a dark figure outlined by the bright yellow sunlight. She nodded pleasantly. “Come in,” she said. “Jus’ lucky I made plenty bread this morning.”

The Grapes of Wrath pgs 73-74 John Steinbeck

Mini Summary: Tom Joad and his tenant farmer family in Oklahoma are forced to leave their home and failed fields of crops. This follows their trek across the south-western United States to California, where the labor market is saturated and they struggle to survive.

A rapid plunge into destitution, homelessness, and hopelessness, the Joad family represented what thousands experienced during the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl in the 1930’s. Most adults know something about this time, especially this famously heart-breaking picture of Dorothea Lange. But this book brought so much of those struggles into blaring focus. The Joad family is close and cares deeply for each other, but these extreme times drove some to the breaking point. Like many during this time in U.S. history, families were pulled apart, emotionally and physically.

But Tom Joad and others in his family were made of strong stuff. They honored a family commitment, not just a marriage bond, of “better and worse, richer or poorer.” This time tested their resolve to the extreme. Eighty years later I sit in my air-conditioned home and never have worried whether my children will have enough food or where we will sleep tonight. What a gift.

Back to the baking, a hot biscuit is a million North American traditions and home cooked memories wrapped up in a golden crust. On the spectrum of the Americanized “biscuit” with hard tack on one side and enjoyment on the other, this recipe falls firmly in the flavor-focused camp. I have butter and baking powder at my disposal, thank goodness. Let’s save hard tack for long sea-faring journeys.