when i was a kid visiting my great-grandmother in savannah, ga, she asked me what i’d like for dinner. my response? “fried chicken!” that afternoon, she went into the backyard and killed my favorite chicken. she plucked the feathers, cut, cleaned and fried that bird.

for dinner, i ate biscuits. a lot of them. the beginning of a life-long love affair. those biscuits were the best i’ve ever had, but let the record show i also had great biscuits growing up in, yes, newark, nj.

btw, i still love fried chicken. as long as the chicken comes from the store…

From www.amateurgourmet.com:

Is there such a thing as biscuit terroir?

In wine, as in coffee, we can talk about the soil and growing conditions of the grapes or beans and how that affects the end product. But with biscuits, there are so many variables — the butter, the flour, the baking powder and the buttermilk — you can’t explicitly tie the biscuits to a place. For all you know that baking powder came from Newark, New Jersey.