Biscuits are the stuff of legend. The mere mention of them conjures images of hearth and home, kindly grandmothers and good-smelling kitchens. A particularly well-made biscuit has been known to inspire proposals of marriage.

People love eating biscuits. They love talking about biscuits.

LOUIE FAVORITE/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)

Award-winning chef Scott Peacock's biscuits are featured Tuesdays on fried chicken night and at Sunday brunch at Watershed in Decatur. They were also depicted on the January 2008 cover of Gourmet magazine and are featured in a story he wrote for this month's Bon Appétit.

LOUIE FAVORITE/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)

Think you're missing the magic touch that leads to flaky, heavenly goodness? Take it from a pro: Once you learn a few secrets, you, too, can produce a delectable batch of biscuits from scratch.

Scott Peacock's Biscuit recipes Crusty Buttermilk Biscuits, the basic recipe  (Biscuit)Strawberry Shortcake  Tomato Gravy, for biscuits  Photo gallery A biscuit feast for the eyes  Biscuits step-by-step Seven easy steps to success  The golden ideal: What makes biscuits great  Ingredients: Good biscuits start with using the good stuff  Equipment to use: On baking pans and biscuit cutters  The baking and the serving, plus some final thoughts  Printer-friendly step-by-step  Biscuits main page  Biscuits therapy Don't say, "I can't." Scott Peacock answers your biscuit-baking fears and questions

But when it comes to making them, the sad truth is that many people, even Southerners, are often too afraid to try.

Why is this? Why are so many otherwise stalwart souls intimidated by a little piece of bread? I decided to consult an expert: my mother, a former biscuit-phobe herself.

While bad biscuits didn't singlehandedly end my parents' marriage, they surely didn't help.

My father, a true biscuit lover —"they just have a taste that fits me," he says — was raised by a mother who, twice daily and without measuring, produced exceptionally fine biscuits from a wood-burning stove. As a young boy, I remember that he was less than complimentary of my mother's fledgling efforts to duplicate those skills. "These look and taste just like the Himalayan Mountains. Hard as them, too!" he used to say.

My mother hasn' t forgotten this, either. "He made so much fun of my biscuits, "she told me, "that I finally got too embarrassed to keep trying and I just quit." She added, a little sheepishly: "I must admit they were pretty bad. Inedible, really. And heavy as lead. You could've put one in a slingshot and killed a bird with it. Maybe a squirrel."

So the biscuit maker in our family was a little doughy man in a white chef's hat named Pop N. Fresh.

Talk about a sad state of affairs, especially since making an infinitely superior biscuit from scratch takes little more time than rapping that refrigerated can against the counter (though I admit I did get a certain thrill out of those exploding tubes of dough).

Lacking a role model at home, it wasn't until I was in my early 20s, working as the chef at a small hunting plantation in South Georgia, that I was able to cobble together enough know-how to make a decent batch of biscuits. Under the gun, through reading and experimentation, I overcame the tendencies of overkneading and underbaking that so often stand in the way of success.

At the Governor's Mansion, I refined my biscuit skills and built confidence. But it wasn't until I met and began cooking with the late, great Southern writer and chef Edna Lewis — an exquisite maker of biscuits if ever there was one —that I really learned to love biscuit making and discovered some of the finer points of the craft. Together, we mixed, kneaded, rolled and baked thousands of biscuits.

Experience has taught me that, in the end, a good biscuit really boils down to a few basics: mainly a hot oven, cold fat and a gentle but knowing hand.

But it's the details that make a great biscuit, and simple as they are, they are important and should be followed closely.

GET STARTED: The golden ideal