I know I'm home in Santa Barbara when I wake up to the sounds of my parents' glorious coffee maker, the dog nuzzling my blanket to curl up next to me, the sunrise is a million pastel colors and my Dad is making something fabulous, like buttermilk biscuits. At this very moment, he's just brought me a chai tea in bed -- it's a miracle I ever left their cocoon of love and delicious foods. We've been having a nice holiday, watching double features in the evenings, walking Vito, then planning the next meal together. My Mom has been wrapping gifts with wild flourish, this year's theme is characters from the news paper with sassy thought bubbles, and getting serious with the slow cooker. It is so rad!
Dad's Buttermilk Biscuits
(adapted from Gourmet)