The Love of Jam Biscuits

 


Crunch


The arches on the biscuit exposed a neatly collected jammy centre, now in its firm state.


Delicious!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A layer of soft brown fur stood out against its grain as my finger touched the skin of the 10kg beagle. The adorable pup was still curled up, giving out soft snores. 

"mrrrr??"

"Hmm?"

Turning around brought me face-to-face with a 90-degree rotated clockewise face and the breath of a feline.

"OOOO.... Too close!!!"

Unabashed by its sincere affection, Milo bought her face closer, again. Her wet nose twitched and wafted the smell of a tuna. Too close for appreciation, I pulled back.

"Okay!!..." I had to chuckle. "It's time to go."

Milo stood up on her hind paws, protesting my change in inertia. The A4 sheet of paper crinkled under her back paws. 

I put my left palm under her soft belly, picked her up from the bed, set her down on the ground and grabbed the paper with my right.

"mew!" Milo reverberated in response.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The recipe was crinkled in my negligence. I tried to smoothen it out. Nuts! No avail.

1 and a half cups of flour and 5tbsp of butter....hmmmm

I rained the scoop's contents on the sieve. A beautiful snowfall of flour materialised on the other end from the taps. 

"Is that??..." 

wishhh

The flour beautifully packed with a peak inside the 1-cup measurement scoop.

Done! Once more....

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The cool air of the refrigerator met my face before its contents. A block of butter sat on the same white tray on which it had been left.  The jar of condensed milk sat right next to it. I fetched them out and punted the door shut.


Thump. The butter landed in the flour. The solid mass, refusing to separate, resisted every effort to incorporate with its soft neighbour.




There!

Ten minutes of struggle later, the flour and butter were one. 


Crackle crackle crackle. The lid of the condensed jar sang at its death.

Plop. The thick liquid dribbled on the sandy mixture. Discreetly, I inserted my palm inside the bowl again and tried to bring the mixture together. 


 Tink. The rim of the bowl hit the counter on tilting. The dough and its reminiscent fell onto the counter. 


I pulled a long sheet of parchment out.  Subjecting considerable pressure on the cuboidal box through my left arm, I angled my right arm offside to cut it out. 


A neat square sheet of parchment paper now dangled through the pinches of my fingers.

🌸🌸🌸


The rolling pin, out of sight and hidden from direct sunlight felt cold. Proficient in its job, it smoothened out the dough to half-inch thickness with perfection. 


I pulled out the drawer close to my left thigh. Fetching out the round metal cutter and a spoon, I set the latter down. 


22 precise incisions were made. 11 biscuits at once. Yum!


🌸🌸🌸


I set my last piece on the tray. The tray was ready for the 180-degree pre-heated oven. 


Smack! The oven door shut in place.


I picked up the spoon and whisked the jam in the pot a few times. Runny, the coulee dripped back from the spoon at a steady pace. 


🌸🌸🌸

Thud! 


The tray bottom met the counter. The oven mitt, however, must have met some other side of the kitchen. 


"Mew?" Milo looked on with curiosity. Her head was titled sideways. 

"Yes?"

....

....

....

"C'mon. Let's cuddle."


🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

5 pm. 


One biscuit looked perfect enough to be pulled out from the tray. 


Cool. I picked up a spoonful of jam.

Carefully pilling it on the top, I sandwiched the jam in with the top half. The centre flooded out on top, under pressure. 


Jam biscuits.

Yum!


Time to set them.


Author's note:- Looking for an actual recipe? Here are 2 references I was looking at to make this piece. One with eggs and one without eggs. Both, however, aren't vegan... I think...

Jam Biscuits- The English Kitchen

Jam Biscuits- Bake with Shivesh

Link to my Ko-fi ☕ account


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