In the sprawling treasure trove of the Virginia Beach Antique Mall, I discovered the joy of small press cookbooks. So much heart goes into these little comb bound books, and I couldn’t resist collecting years of material for this blog in one fell swoop.
The Holy Communion Sampler of 1988 from the Holy Communion Lutheran Church in Dallas, North Carolina is rife with Southern culinary goodness. Cakes made from soda, puddings galore, and advice on cooking for contemptible gatherings of humanity (AKA family reunions). If there’s a recipe for butter cake, I missed it, but I’m sure it’s nestled somewhere between hummingbird cake and chess pie.
I was pretty excited to try out some of these recipes. But as a mostly inexperienced cook, I needed something that wasn’t going to chain me to the stove for hours. Something easy…
Too easy.
You have to wonder how a “recipe” like this got in the book. Granted, it’s a self-published cookbook, but there had to be a discussion among the committee members about letting a revised version of “follow directions on the packaging” into the finished product.
I’m guessing Mrs. Cloninger is the mother or wife of a prominent businessman or a little old lady they humored because, bless her heart, she was never the same after the stroke. Looking up “Cloninger” on Google Maps produced two street names; “Cloninger business” turned up a trucking business, an auto service center, a land surveyor contractor, and a commercial printing business carrying that name. In a small town, if a family name is plastered on at least one auto service center, you’re pretty much obligated to go along with whatever the clan wants. (Would be a shame if the brakes suddenly gave out on Dead Man’s Curve…)
But I digress. Let’s “make” thwack biscuits.
Thwack can on counter. Either Food lion has a packaging manufacturer that uses decent cardboard or I set my strength gauge to arthritic. So I peeled the tube open. It took me three tries. Food Lion must have upgraded their packages.
Throw biscuits in pan.
Look, I’m following directions. One misstep and I could completely botch this recipe.
Bake 450 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes. I did this in a convection oven, which makes more sense than using an entire large oven.
So they turned out a little more brown than usual. That’s what I get for being a smartass and following directions to the letter.
Serve in fancy basket. These things don’t deserve fancy. They get a repurposed lunch meat plastic tub and a Brawny paper towel. They don’t even deserve two sheets from the pick-a-size roll.
But how do these little thwackers taste? I got out one of the eggs I’d baked for my work week breakfasts and made a small sandwich.
Look out, Bon Appétit, your staff photographers have some fierce competition… as soon as I get a real camera.
It actually wasn’t half bad. The surface had a nice “almost crunch” when I bit into it. All throughout was pillowy dough that didn’t feel undercooked. The burnt-looking part had no bad taste to it, and the bread complemented the egg.
Next time, I think I’ll put a little more force into the thwacking. I’ll set my strength to spider killing mode.
