Crowned with a dollop of my fresh-made strawberry jam, a drizzle of Grannie’s raw honey, or her favored Black Strap Molasses

 
 

COME TASTE MY FAMILY TRADITION!

EDIBLE HEIRLOOM

Oh, this is not your average biscuit; but more, a priceless edible family heirloom passed down from My Grandmother, whispering, echoing no doubt through ancestors from decades passed. Each buttery bite of My Buttermilk SLAP Biscuits is a visceral journey back home, a warm chronicle of the memories of family, togetherness, so much laughter and labors…of love.

The very story of my Grandma—a weary spirit overworked, underpaid, under appreciated—who, in her busy 1960s kitchen in Newark, NJ, seemed perpetually framed by the steam, the flour and the grease; how she managed her ruby red lipstick, high heels, tailored form-fitting dresses and freshly pressed hair, as she left out only to go to work each day; I can’t imagine! Though for me, that kitchen was more than a room; it was the sacred geography of my youth, unbeknownst to me, the true heartbeat of my childhood existence, where I lived, watched and learned—what hard work is, as much as, what “home” is!

The Unadorned Art of Biscuit MAKING

Fifty-plus years have vanished now, yet the scent of that vibrant, though very much distressed childhood home—a bustling hive where cousins, aunts, and uncles shared breath and burden. I recall, it was right off Central Avenue; that house has been long since gone, still the memories cling to my soul. Young and terribly unappreciative back then, I was the unknowing recipient of a quiet, unadorned daily act of grace—My Grandmother in the kitchen, not only feeding, but nourishing the soul of our family.

Imagine my grandmother: A domestic maid, her hands accustomed to the double-labor of serving others, while nurturing her own family and her 10 children. With meager provisions—flour, soured milk & lard—those same hard-working hands performed alchemy. She didn't just make biscuits, she mixed up a mouthful of some homemade love destined only for our coveted Sunday breakfast.

Oh, I so looked forward to Sunday mornings! They were monuments of sheer joy, steeped in family tales, punctuated by bursts of laughter and, yes, often eclipsed by heated debate. It didn't matter; the heat of the oven was the hearth of our world. I realize now that this simple, hot bread was the very currency of affection. Who knew! That young heart, watching the rising dough and the rising sun, absorbed a profound truth. I’d always hoped to inherit that mantle—what I consider, an edible family heirloom. Oh, to be That Mom—the one who could turn humble ingredients into the enduring warmth of home—to all whom crossed my threshold.

The SLAP Biscuit is Born

Now, quite unexpectedly, I am the owner, operator, and chief SLAP biscuit-maker at Private Stay By MadlyGiving At National Harbor—my very own 5-Star Boutique Bed & Breakfast—In Reverence of Our Heritage. More than fifty years later, the tradition flows from My Ancestors, to My Grandma’s hands, through my heart, into my own kitchen and straight into the belly—the soul—of My Dear Guests!

What all biscuit makers are after, my twist—a biscuit so soft, so fluffy, so rich with buttery-crisp edges, that one delighted guest was so moved to exclaim, These biscuits are so good, umma bout to SLAP somebody! And in that moment of spontaneous, soul-stirring delight, My Buttermilk “SLAP” Biscuits were born!

my Secret Ingredient

What truly sets my biscuits apart? I believe, simply the time and the love I pour into making them for you—from scratch, like My Grandmother, indeed My Ancestors! Each pan lovingly baked to a golden, buttery, ooom, ooom goodness, infused with my secret ingredient: A passion for making my guests go, OoooooomIn Reverence of My Grandmother.

Always served hot from the oven and slathered with softened butter, whether you crown them with a dollop of my fresh-made strawberry jam, a drizzle of Grannie’s raw honey, or her favored Black Strap Molasses, no mention, my homemade clotted cream—YUM, my Buttermilk SLAP Biscuits are so much more than bread served with a meal—My SLAPS transform my meals into a soul-filled celebration of family. Things that make you go, OOOOOOOM!

COME TASTE MY FAMILY TRADITION

I invite you to come taste for yourself some of our traditions—with a side of my family history, topped with My Buttermilk SLAP Biscuits—at Private Stay By MadlyGiving At National Harbor, a 5-Star Boutique Bed & Breakfast Experience, In Reverence Of Our Heritage, Curated by HospiTalent Mariby Corpening.

The richest most soulful unique warm loving exotic abundant bed & breakfast you’ll ever have!

—HospiTalent Mariby Corpening

Things That Make You Go, “Ooooooom!”

 

 
Wait, wait! Is anybody standing behind me? [checking around her] Because these biscuits are so good, umma bout to slap somebody!
— Guest Comment
 
 
 

Introducing SLAP Cake & Ice Cream

Apple SLAPS

Plumb SLAPS

Blueberry SLAPS

Strawberry SLAPS

And we won’t even mention, My Peach SLAP Cake & Ice Cream!

Things that make you go, OOOOOOOM!