This year has turned us all upside down for myriad reasons. As winter approaches, restaurants are yet again negotiating the daunting task of changing service models to stay open for business with the impending cold. I lay at night thinking about what I serve at Stomping Ground - a biscuit topped with simple ingredients, now served exclusively in a takeout window - and wonder if it is enough? I’m republishing an article I wrote in 2017 as a reminder to all of us to never take for granted the “magic” of hospitality, which is often the deepest complexity of making a food item, a feeling, or an experience look simple:...At Stomping Ground, I have challenged myself and my guests to rally behind a simple and classic fare — the humble biscuit. Biscuits are extremely personal in how they are enjoyed and prepared. If you grew up with biscuits as a staple on the table like I did, eating one brings a rush of immediate, almost visceral childhood memories. Biscuits are challenging to serve because there isn’t an authentic standard, but everyone has a pretty strong mandate about what makes a biscuit “the one.” They should be dropped. Or rolled. Or beaten. They should be served with cheese. Or black pepper. The outside must be crispy. They should be baked in a cast iron skillet. This list is only the start. Believe me; I’ve heard every opinion.  Biscuits became fundamental in the American South where the core ingredients of buttermilk, lard, and low-protein, softer wheat flours were readily available. This made them cheaper and more tender than their northern counterparts. I read somewhere that pre-Civil War biscuits were considered a delicacy reserved only for Sundays, usually at lunch. There was usually one person in the home responsible for making them. That individual passed down his or her technique and it traveled through generations of the family. These traditions fuel the feelings of proper biscuit etiquette.The thing about simple is that it can take a lifetime to master. Some days the biscuits rise beautifully. The tall, layered, crispy exterior encasing a buttery, pillowy center. Some days they are flat, dense, or crumbly. The weather, the temperature of your hands and butter, the fat content of the buttermilk, the way you turn them in the bowl all affect the end result.In our restaurant, just like a traditional Southern family, the person that makes the biscuits is held in the highest esteem. Each pair of hands that touches the dough leaves a small signature.We all laugh in our kitchen because my biscuits, without a doubt, are the ugliest, albeit the tastiest. They stale quickly and are best enjoyed fresh, so we make them throughout the day in small batches of forty. It takes tremendous effort and we work to perfect our process daily. Despite your biscuit preference — cathead, rolled, beaten — there is one thing upon which we must all agree. Biscuits, dressed up with country ham or dressed down with gravy, are timeless. Like all classics, they never go out of style. And in the end, I’ll always crave authenticity.