I make biscuits at least twice a month and have been doing so for years. After much trial and error, I have a recipe I love and I think they’re the best biscuits ever.

Enter the Cuisinart and apparently the demise of my “Best Biscuits Ever.”

It was new. And shiny. I wanted to break it in. Lots of people use the Cuisinart to pulse butter and flour in it. So I proceeded with the recipe.

They looked fine, but some people who will remain unnamed said, “Umm. Are these the best biscuits ever?” Sting.

Artisanal it is, then! So here they are, in all their fluffy, hand-crafted glory.

FLUFFIEST BISCUITS

Makes 12 biscuits

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ cups cake flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 stick (4 ounces) unsalted chilled butter, cut into 1” pieces
1 ½ cups buttermilk or plain low-fat yogurt, chilled

- Adjust the oven rack to middle position and preheat oven to 425°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

- Sift the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda twice.

- Add the chilled butter and, using two knives, cut it into the dry ingredients until the butter is in pea-sized pieces.

- Add the buttermilk and stir it in with fork just till combined. If it looks very dry, add more buttermilk, 1 teaspoon at a time until the dough is cohesive.

- Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and gently knead it until it comes together, about six times. Pat the dough into a rectangle, about 16 inches by 11 inches. Use a floured round biscuit cutter to stamp out the biscuits and arrange them about 1 inch apart on the prepared baking sheet. If you don’t have a biscuit cutter, cut the dough into quarters lengthwise, then into thirds crosswise.

- Bake 12 – 15 minutes until golden.

- Serve warm with good butter.

I feel like I’m trespassing by posting this recipe—it’s Cuban, and I confess to not having any relationship to that cuisine other than I absolutely love it, crave it, and look forward to trips to Miami more for the opportunity to eat at La Carreta and Versailles than for the amazing beaches and steady sunshine.

Cuban mojo doubles as marinade and sauce. Mojo is made by combining chopped garlic and/or minced onions, olive oil, sour orange juice, dried oregano, and a touch of cumin.  Recipes abound, and like many other traditional dishes, the ratio and quantity of its ingredients as well as its preparation are household-specific; seasoned according to palate and prejudices among family members.

Every time I make mojo I make a few tweaks; the acidity level and amount of onion and garlic change according to mood, but this is a pretty good jumping off point if you’ve never made it. Feel free to add and subtract.  The recipe is made with a combination of orange and lime juices to mimic the sharp sour oranges original to the recipe. If you can get your hands on a sour orange, substitute it. Mojo is the perfect dressing for a number of dishes, from roast pork to boiled yuca and plain white rice. I especially love it on rice.

MOJO

1 small white onion, finely chopped
Salt
6 garlic cloves, minced
¾ cup olive oil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Pinch ground cumin
¼ cup orange juice
3 tablespoons lime juice

- Cook onions and ½ teaspoon salt in oil in a small saucepan over medium-low heat until translucent, 6 to 8 minutes. Don’t be tempted to increase the heat; you want to soften the onions in texture and mellow their flavor, not crisp them.

- Add the garlic, oregano, and cumin and cook until fragrant, 2 to 3 minutes.

- Transfer oil mixture to medium bowl. Whisk in orange juice and lime juice. Season with salt to taste. Serve warm. Store leftovers in a sealed container for up to 1 week.

Shameful secret: Every time I make beans I have to call my mom. There are some basic Nica recipes I assumed came embedded in my genetic material. Imagine my surprise when for years I couldn’t make tortillas. Or rice.

The tortillas and rice are under control, but I still hiccup and reach for the phone when I make beans. Last night, however, I finally wrote mom’s procedure down and the training wheels are coming off.

This is how I make beans, and though I normally research alternative methods for making recipes to make sure my bases are covered, this is what I know and trust. Plus, I love that my mom calls for seven cloves of garlic. Seven, no explanation.

FRIJOLES NICARAGÜENSES (EN BALA)

Goya sells “Central American Beans” which are the small, red kidney beans that are standard issue in Nicaragua. If you can’t find them, use small black beans.

Served straight freshly boiled, the beans are called “frijoles en bala”—beans bullet-style. Don’t ask.

Stay tuned for refried beans and gallopinto.

1 (16-ounce) bag dried small red or black beans
Salt
7 garlic cloves, peeled

- Spread beans out in a rimmed baking sheet. Pick out any debris and questionable looking beans.

- Transfer beans to a colander and rinse under cold running water. Place rinsed beans in a large bowl and cover with cold water. Let soak for 30 minutes.

- Transfer beans and water to a large pot; water should cover the beans about 3 inches—add more if necessary. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to medium and simmer beans for 30 minutes. Turn off heat, cover beans, and let rest 1 hour.

- Bring the beans back up to a boil over high heat. Add 2 teaspoons salt and garlic, reduce heat to medium, and simmer until beans are tender, 30 to 60 minutes.

- If storing the beans, cool completely, then transfer beans and some of the cooking liquid to quart-sized zipper-lock bags.  When ready to use, thaw out in the refrigerator and heat on the stovetop in a saucepan or in the microwave.