As though the traffic weren't bad enough, as though the parked cars all over creation weren't bad enough, as thought the fireworks late at night disturbing my slumbers weren't bad enough, as though riding my bike on a crowded dark street and being spotlighted like a deer weren't bad enough, the pitiful excuse for a $2 ham biscuit at the fair took the cake. My grandmother would have hung her head in shame over what I was served.
The biscuit was passable, though it was very much a beginner's biscuit. The real problem was the ham. It was smoked and sweet. Like sandwich ham. Sandwich ham! We will all agree that sandwich ham is usually good, especially in a sandwich, but I asked for what was advertised: A ham biscuit.
How much further can my people fall?
To help us all recover from this travesty, I made ham biscuits for the peeps at work. Here's how I did it.
The YouTube video.
A few of the peeps at work know the difference between a decent ham biscuit and an abomination such as I received at the State fair, and I can report that the bowl was about empty after an hour. I think they liked them.