Biscuit Lover

I am saying grace before supper. And a lot is going through my mind. Namely, because we are eating biscuits tonight. And I love biscuits. When I am done saying this blessing, I will experience one of the best feelings on planet Earth. Which is peeling open one of my wife’s hot, handmade catheads.

Steam will rise from the soft bread to kiss me square on the nose. And I will swear I can almost hear the Vienna Boys Choir singing “Ave Verum Corpus” somewhere in the distance.

I have a long childhood history with biscuits. The day after my father’s funeral I remember awaking to find our kitchen covered in a fine dusting of Gold Medal Flour. There were old coffee cans of lard on counters, and matronly women in beehive hairdos.

The oven had transformed the kitchen into a sauna. The sound of female chatter was like the sound of geese on a pond. I sniffed the air.

Hallelujah. They were making biscuits.

After a funeral you have a lot of food around. This happens when someone you love dies. Church ladies with solemn faces show up at odd hours to leave hot pans on your porch, or shoeboxes of fried chicken, or Tupperware containers with notecards attached to the lids.

You receive a lot of biscuits. This is because the American biscuit is not something that merely sits in a bread basket, covered with gingham. A real biscuit is true. It is something real.

Next time you eat a biscuit think of the hands that mixed the flour. Human hands that have seen their share of pain, and loss, and life. See the fingers flex when they knead lard into the ivory dough. Watch the dusty palms use an upside-down cup to stamp each one.

Verily. This is love.

The ironic thing is, after my father’s funeral I didn’t feel like eating. I had no appetite. I had bleeding ulcers from the time I was 9 because of a crummy homelife. And after my father’s end, my nervous stomach only got worse.

And do you know how they treated my ulcers? Well, the first method was something called wax suppositories, which I firmly believe ought to be outlawed.

But the second treatment was soft, hot, golden-crusted, crumbly centered, buttermilk biscuits.

The women in my life took it upon themselves to heal me with food. Strange old ladies appeared from the shadows with plates of food in hand. Had it not been for these women, I would have surely withered and died.

When I met my wife, one of the first things she ever cooked for me were fried gizzards and biscuits.

We shoved these scalding hot gizzards inside the steaming, floury biscuits, then smashed the pieces together, slathered them with butter, and ate until we were ill. And I couldn’t quit grinning at the supper table.

Because you see, life is jagged. And it never quits lunging at you. Just when you think you’re through the hard parts, there are more bumps over the next hill. But biscuits. They make life into art. They are the stuff prayers are made of. All food prepared with tenderness is this way. This bread comes to us from another realm, even though we don’t deserve it, there it is. Proof that someone loves us.

Over the years, my wife’s biscuits have undergone subtle changes. They have varied in thickness and weight. They have grown softer, larger, smaller, fatter, richer, more buttery, more flaky, more crumbly, lighter.

Like them, my wife and I have also undergone changes. We never had children of our own, for instance, but we’ve had our share of dogs. Our share of road bumps. Our share of heartaches.

In other words, my wife and I have had a life. We’ve been to Mexico twice. And we have seen the prairies of the Midwest. We have eaten brisket in Texas, and seen the stars shine over the Grand Canyon like scattered snow on asphalt.

We are growing older. And it’s happening faster every day. I wish that time would slow down, but it doesn’t. One day, my joints will hurt more than they do now. One day I will be white-haired and need help getting out of my La-Z-Boy recliner. One day we will be but shadows of the children we were. One day I will be gone.

But I can truly say that I have known the finest that this world can offer me. The hand of a lover, and a friend. Tonight, I’m seated at a suppertable, holding that flour-covered hand. My head is bowed.

If I were a painter, I’d put my whole heart into the greatest painting ever painted and give it to her. If I were a sculptor, I would carve something from the best and biggest piece of marble. If I were a builder, I’d give her Buckingham.

But there is so little I can give, other than my beating heart. And these few words:

“Bless this food, Lord. And bless the hands that prepared it.”


  1. Adele - September 29, 2021 6:37 am

    Well, that one gave me goosebumps. 🙏❤️

  2. Mary Ann B. - September 29, 2021 7:42 am

    Oh, my! You fill my dark Texas nights with hope. I can’t stomach canned biscuits when my heart needs to know that the “real stuff” is still out there. Biscuits are only a symbol for family, faith, hope and love. Maybe I can go to sleep now. God bless, everyone!

  3. Johanna J Young - September 29, 2021 8:07 am

    Amen to that Sean !

  4. Leila Travlos - September 29, 2021 8:13 am

    Your words are so filled with love. God bless you, your wife and dogs. And if she wants to share her biscuit recipe that too!

  5. John - September 29, 2021 10:29 am

    That’s love. On both sides of the table.

  6. Daniel - September 29, 2021 10:36 am

    Kindred spirits amongst the golden horde.Your words bring much remembrance and joy to me in these time of uncertainties. Thank you, Peace and Blessings to you always.

  7. Kate Word - September 29, 2021 10:54 am

    My mother once said the only time she ever heard my dad pray out loud for her was at meal time when he prayed your same prayer, “bless the hands that prepared it.” Thanks Sean for redeeming my dad’s memory with this wonderful post about biscuits.

  8. Kristin - September 29, 2021 10:57 am

    Beautiful words.

  9. Paula Smith - September 29, 2021 11:05 am

    Dang it, Sean. You made me tear up again. I just saved a Brenda Gantt biscuit video on Facebook last night cause it made me miss my dear late Texas grandma’s homemade biscuits so much. Love this post and relate to it. And “bless the hands that prepared it” indeed.

  10. Terric - September 29, 2021 11:07 am

    Food has always been my love language, it seems as if it is your lovely Jamie’s as well. God bless you both.

  11. Cindy - September 29, 2021 11:21 am

    You amaze me with your thought and words! Thank you.

  12. Marykay Evans - September 29, 2021 11:35 am

    Yum, yum! Fried gizzards and biscuits! Try putting homemade fig preserves on your biscuit.. my mouth is watering !!

  13. Suellen - September 29, 2021 12:01 pm

    And that is all she needs.

  14. Dean - September 29, 2021 12:02 pm

    I love fried gizzards and biscuits. May have to cook some tomorrow. Have a good day

  15. James Miller - September 29, 2021 12:03 pm


  16. William Strawn - September 29, 2021 12:10 pm

    Again you take the ingredients of a subject, skillfully knead them into a masterpiece, reminding us that having a loved one is responsible for a good life. Wish I had a Bisquit to celebrate.

  17. Debbie g - September 29, 2021 12:10 pm

    “Bless the hands that prepared it” took on a new meaning As you were talking about your wife 🙏🙏love to all of us

  18. Bette - September 29, 2021 12:12 pm

    Reading your comments gives me hope that my granddaughter will remember me when I’m gone. I’m 73 and remember scooping flour out of the barrel in my grandma’s tiny pantry and helping her roll out biscuits on the board that was covered with flour sack cloth. Thank you Sean for helping us to keep hoping.

  19. Shelton A. - September 29, 2021 12:18 pm

    May God continue to bless you and Jamie ( and Otis Campbell and Thelma Lou); You’re very right in your comments about your joints….they do ache more and heaven forbid you hurt one of them. Then you have pain on pain. But you’re a ways form that yet. Stay safe and take good care of each other.

  20. Don Gardner, Jr - September 29, 2021 12:32 pm

    Sean, my stomach is full, and I gained five pounds just reading about Jamie’s biscuits, but my heart is full from reading about your love for each other. God bless you and the hands that prepared those biscuits.

  21. Jan - September 29, 2021 12:39 pm


  22. Maggie Priestaf - September 29, 2021 12:46 pm

    Jamie is a very special lady! My Texas grandma made biscuits like you describe. My Dady learned her technique after she died. Now my eldest son is trying his best to carry on the tradition. Grandma used a cut off tin can. My son has that very biscuit cutter. Oh the memories!

  23. Cathy - September 29, 2021 12:48 pm

    Now that is a love letter to remember❤️ You two have something very special. It touches my heart and makes me hungry for a biscuit.

  24. Norma Den 🇿🇦 - September 29, 2021 12:53 pm

    “Bless the hands that prepared it”. Always brings a smile to my face. When my dearest only granddaughter (18) was small she would say grace but her version was “bless the hands that REPAIRED it”. 🤣. She was so serious we had to hide our smiles. As a woman who is not fond of cooking, I wondered if perhaps she got it right!!!

  25. Martha A Burton - September 29, 2021 12:53 pm

    Sean, there is one incorrect word in your biscuit thoughts: Gold Metal is not the flour for the biscuit-maker. The one and only is White Lily. Someone mentioned Brenda Gantt’s biscuit video (Alabama) and both she and followers are faithful to White Lily, as was my mother and other fabulous biscuit makers. I’m pretty sure Ms Brenda has led an entirely new generation of folks to the joys of this home-crafted perfection. Thanks for sharing your love of the art of biscuit-making!

  26. Teri Easterling - September 29, 2021 12:59 pm

    💝 for so many “food is LOVE” given and received. It should be included in the love languages list. And I do love homemade biscuits, too, just don’t take time to make them most of the time.

  27. Jayne Holland - September 29, 2021 1:16 pm

    OH GEEZE this thing made me cry.

  28. Nancy Crews - September 29, 2021 1:37 pm

    ❤your writing.

  29. Cynthia Russell - September 29, 2021 1:59 pm

    PERFECTLY SAID!! Bless Jamie….
    Thank You!

  30. Joe - September 29, 2021 2:03 pm

    You’ve had biscuits with gizzards, Texas Brisket and thanked God while holding your wife’s hand. A good life!

  31. Cindy Foster - September 29, 2021 2:10 pm


  32. Betty Kelly - September 29, 2021 2:13 pm

    So sweet Sean. It comes from your heart.

  33. Stacey Wallace - September 29, 2021 3:02 pm

    Oh, Sean, you are giving Jamie so much more than a painting or sculpture. You have given her your heart ,which is priceless. May God bless you both.

  34. PEGGY CAMPBELL - September 29, 2021 3:13 pm


  35. Sue - September 29, 2021 3:31 pm

    Another beautiful day, thank you for reminding me of my Mama’s biscuits❤️

  36. Yvette - September 29, 2021 4:14 pm

    Was it Lewis Grizzard that said the saddest sound in the world was the sound of the refrigerator biscuit tube hitting the edge of the counter in the morning? Homemade biscuits, arise!

  37. Nancy - September 29, 2021 4:40 pm

    When my two sisters and I were little (in the mid ‘50s), we got some new dishes for Christmas. We couldn’t reach anything in the kitchen to put in the cups to drink except Joy. Grandma didn’t have that fancy indoor plumbing. When Mother, grandma, and our aunt realized what we had done, they made us eat biscuits as a poison control. I don’t know what made them think of that, but we all lived to grow up. I don’t even remember getting sick. You can’t eat a lot of biscuits at 4-5. I still remember that these many years later.

  38. Cooky Kuter - September 29, 2021 4:42 pm

    Loved this one!! God bless both Jamie and you as you share life together. Thankful for all those homemade biscuits too!! Just wish I’d learned the art of making them!

  39. AlaRedClayGirl - September 29, 2021 5:07 pm

    This makes me want to make biscuits and chocolate gravy for lunch!

  40. Linda Moon - September 29, 2021 5:13 pm

    Grace, biscuits, and your wife are three of my favorite “bests”. I love them all. My mother-in-law helped feed a dozen children with homemade biscuits. After I met and married child number 10 or 11, I had plenty of them. Babies #10 and #11 were twins…which one was birthed first no one knows. After my father’s funeral I had no appetite. Now I see myself in him every day, and I see myself and The Twin in your LIFE with your wife. The Twin, his twin sister, and I have grown older. You and Jamie will, too. God bless us everyone…and hands that can’t make biscuits, too (mine).

  41. Gayle Wilson - September 29, 2021 5:39 pm

    Amen Sean. I have my little Granny’s wooden biscuit bowl that the wood is worn from her gentle hand scooping and kneading the dough for biscuits. I only wish I could get the hang of making them. I guess some genes are recessive because I am not a biscuit maker, nor a seamstress – and my little Granny was the queen of both.

  42. Peggy ALEXANDER - September 29, 2021 5:41 pm

    My mom ‘s biscuits were the best to me. I can still see her hands in my mind rolling out the “ perfect “ biscuits. And the milk gravy she made to go over them was so wonderful. Got to make me some biscuits 🤣🤣Also love the way you love your wife so dearly. Yes and I love “the blessing “

  43. Heidi - September 29, 2021 6:32 pm

    Biscuits are one of Gods comforts. ❤️

  44. Jim - September 29, 2021 6:33 pm

    Another wonderful piece to read — as good as any biscuit I have ever eaten! Thank you, Sean!

  45. MAM - September 29, 2021 6:42 pm

    Yum! Biscuits. I have an old recipe taken from a magazine in 1973, I think, that makes the best biscuits ever—in my opinion, of course! The secret ingredient is an egg, which makes the biscuits very rich and ready to be made richer when slathered with butter just as they come out of the oven. The addition of honey or homemade grape jelly just adds to the yumminess! And a rousing Amen to your blessing!

  46. Steve McCaleb - September 29, 2021 7:07 pm

    2 of the absolute best things about living in the south ( a geographic area that gets smaller every day) are cathead biscuits (with cow butter) and cornbread made by a woman who knows what she’s doing. Time was, the ability to make those 2 staples of southern subculture was right in there with character and looks when it came to marriage proposals. Oh for the good ole days…..

  47. Chasity Davis Ritter - September 29, 2021 7:26 pm

    I still say you are one of the luckiest and richest people I know. God gave you the best of the best when He gave you Jamie. ❤️🙏

  48. Shirley - September 29, 2021 8:20 pm

    Dang! You always make me cry

  49. Christina - September 29, 2021 9:57 pm

    This ought to be famous quote: “All food prepared with tenderness are what prayers are made of.” Sean Dietrich

  50. Karen Snyder - September 29, 2021 10:05 pm

    Amen. 💕

  51. DiA - September 29, 2021 10:17 pm

    Amen, Sean, AMEN!

  52. Amen Sean, - September 30, 2021 1:05 am

    Amen Sean, Amen

  53. Deanna - September 30, 2021 1:23 am

    During the summer time, our neighbor had wonderful home grown tomatoes. He would come to our door with fresh tomatoes, just about the time our mother was taking biscuits out of the oven. There is nothing better than a fresh sun-kissed tomato on a biscuit that has just come out of the oven and then slathered with butter, unless it is two biscuits.

  54. Ann Robbins Cameron - September 30, 2021 12:18 pm

    Dang Sean, another fine column. I wish my husband thought as much of me as you do Jamie but then I can’t make biscuits. He does love biscuits tho.

  55. Robin Winstead Sansom - October 1, 2021 3:14 pm

    Your words comfort a part of my soul! Thank you!

  56. Verna Kays - October 2, 2021 5:25 am


  57. Buddy Caudill - October 3, 2021 12:42 am

    Amen !


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