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Created by Chef Remy
Flaky buttermilk biscuits split warm from the oven, piled high with sugar-kissed Louisiana strawberries swimming in their own rosy syrup, crowned with billows of real whipped cream.
My grandmother Evangeline made these every spring when the Ponchatoula strawberries came in. She would send my grandfather to the Strawberry Festival with strict instructions: bring back a flat of the reddest, sweetest berries you can find, and do not eat them all on the drive home.
The biscuit is everything. You want it tender, with layers you can pull apart with your fingers. The buttermilk does the heavy lifting here, reacting with the baking powder to create lift and adding that subtle tang that balances all the sweetness to come. The butter must be cold, worked quickly, left in irregular pieces that melt in the oven and leave behind pockets of air.
Let me tell you the secret nobody writes down: the strawberry syrup matters as much as the berries themselves. When you toss those sliced strawberries with sugar and let them sit, they release their juices. That liquid soaks into the warm biscuit and turns something simple into something transcendent. At Lagniappe, we serve this only in April and May when Louisiana berries are at their peak. The rest of the year, we wait. Good food is worth waiting for.
Quantity
2 cups (240g)
Quantity
1/3 cup (65g), plus 2 tablespoons for topping
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
6 tablespoons (85g)
cold, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
Quantity
2/3 cup
cold
Quantity
1
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
2 pounds
Quantity
1/3 cup (65g)
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2 cups
cold
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| all-purpose flour | 2 cups (240g) |
| granulated sugar (for biscuits) | 1/3 cup (65g), plus 2 tablespoons for topping |
| baking powder | 1 tablespoon |
| fine sea salt | 1/2 teaspoon |
| unsalted buttercold, cut into 1/2-inch cubes | 6 tablespoons (85g) |
| buttermilkcold | 2/3 cup |
| large egg | 1 |
| pure vanilla extract (for biscuits) | 1 teaspoon |
| heavy cream (for brushing) | 2 tablespoons |
| fresh Louisiana strawberries | 2 pounds |
| granulated sugar (for macerating) | 1/3 cup (65g) |
| fresh lemon juice | 1 tablespoon |
| heavy whipping creamcold | 2 cups |
| powdered sugar | 3 tablespoons |
| pure vanilla extract (for cream) | 1 teaspoon |
Hull the strawberries and slice them into quarters or thick slices, depending on their size. Toss them in a large bowl with one-third cup of sugar and the lemon juice. Let them sit at room temperature for at least thirty minutes, stirring once or twice. The sugar draws out the juices, creating a syrup that soaks into the biscuits. This is the secret to shortcake that tastes like summer itself.
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, one-third cup sugar, baking powder, and salt until everything is evenly distributed. This takes thirty seconds of real whisking. Baking powder clumps, and clumps mean flat spots in your biscuits.
Add the cold butter cubes to the flour mixture. Using a pastry cutter, two forks, or your fingertips, work the butter into the flour until you have a mix of pea-sized and cornmeal-sized pieces. Some variation is good. Those larger butter pieces create steam pockets that give biscuits their flaky layers. Work quickly so the butter stays cold.
In a small bowl, whisk together the cold buttermilk, egg, and vanilla. Pour this into the flour mixture all at once. Stir with a fork just until the dough comes together in a shaggy mass. Stop the moment you no longer see dry flour. The dough will look rough and imperfect. That is exactly right.
Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Pat it into a rectangle about three-quarters of an inch thick. Fold it in thirds like a letter, then pat it out again. Repeat this fold one more time. This creates the layers that make biscuits worth eating. Pat to a final thickness of one inch. Cut into eight rounds using a sharp two-and-a-half-inch biscuit cutter, pressing straight down without twisting. Twisting seals the edges and kills the rise.
Place the biscuits on a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving two inches between them. Brush the tops with heavy cream and sprinkle generously with the remaining two tablespoons of sugar. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until the tops are golden brown and the sides look set. The kitchen will smell like butter and vanilla and everything good about Southern baking.
While the biscuits cool, whip the cold cream with powdered sugar and vanilla. Use a stand mixer, hand mixer, or a whisk and some determination. Beat until the cream holds soft, billowy peaks that droop slightly when you lift the beater. Do not overwhip or you will make butter. The cream should look like clouds, not stiff meringue.
Split each warm biscuit in half horizontally. Place the bottom half on a plate and spoon a generous portion of macerated strawberries over it, making sure to include plenty of that ruby-colored syrup. Add a cloud of whipped cream. Set the top half on at a jaunty angle. Spoon more strawberries and syrup over the whole thing. Add another dollop of cream if your heart says yes. Serve immediately while the biscuit is still warm and the cream is still cold.
1 serving (about 270g)
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