The Twii: Census stats (and biscuits!)

Have you ever heard the saying that goes something like this?
Statistics lie. And liars use statistics.
Have you heard it? I have - but the thing is, I really like numbers.

90-something percent of dental practices succeed.
20 percent of kindergartners wet the bed.
Colorado has 300+ days of sun a year.

Although it seems that with each number, a question always follows.
What's your definition of success?
How often do they have to wet the bed to be considered bed wetters?
How much sunshine do you need in a day to count it as one of the 300 sunny days?

I recently had an experience with what it's like to try and fit me and my family into numbers.
Last year, when the census was done, we were contacted with an extra assignment. The census people apparently choose a number of homes to use for additional research. (Which brings up one more question: who are these census people (and I don't mean the census takers. I've met a number of them by now) and how do I properly refer to the powers that be?)

But I digress. Every month for 4 months they contacted us with questions about our employment status, hours worked, time off, living arrangements, and other random questions. It was pretty straightforward. Then they were off for about 8 months, and now they're back. (I've forgotten how many years this goes on - but trust me - they are very diligent about finding you when it's time.)

Anyway, the first round is always in person, and then the follow up months are on the phone. Last year, the interviewer was this sweet Latina who owns her own bakery. The census had sent a letter ahead of time, explaining what was going to be happening. The day she showed up, I was home cooking dinner, very pregnant with Beckham, and the kiddos were playing underfoot. Because she had shown up at dinner-making time, I just invited the interviewer to sit in the kitchen while I cooked (chicken Caesar salad and buttermilk biscuits).

Cooking long ago in our apartment in PA

By the time the interview was over, the table was set, the salad was made, and the biscuits had baked to a beautiful golden color - making the whole kitchen smell delicious. Of course I shared one with her. She said that she's pretty picky about baked goods because of her living, but having watched me make them, she wanted to try them. She was very impressed. And I was pleased to have won over a critic. Her interview came on the perfect day. Tyler was working late, but the kids and I were laid back and doing our thing. I felt like someone caught a glimpse of me in my role - at the right time - and saw firsthand why I would answer "no" to the, "Are you seeking employment?" question. This person also saw firsthand the answer to the unasked question, "Are you happy to be home with your children?" "YES."

Well, she stayed assigned to us, and each follow up phone call was like a little check on our life. It was fun when she called back in July and we had to add to the number of residents in our house (yeah for new baby Beckham!). Well, the interviews ended - and except for a personal call from her asking for Tyler's office number, I forgot about my date with the census. That is, I forgot until we get home from church a couple months ago to a ding dong at the door.

We had barely dropped our bags and gotten in the door, and someone wanted us. Smelling of cigarettes and laughing nervously every time she got to a question about the number of residents in our home ("yeah, you already have plenty of people." "You have a big family" "oh - your hands are full!"), this new lady asked us the same questions we went through last year. We all sat on top of each other on the couch, still in our Sunday best, wiggling, squirming, and wishing we'd had a few minutes to take a breath before this interview. I couldn't help but remember the nice interview from the year before. Where was bakery lady?

Liza "helping" in the kitchen

Anyway, by now we're just in the system to get monthly phone calls from whomever is working. It's generally pretty easy, but oh so impersonal. I find the questions can have tricky answers when your husband works for himself! How do you answer those straightforward questions? How many hours a week does Tyler work? I have no idea. Because he can put in a day at the office, with patients, staff, and meetings, and still come home and work some more. He's online researching new equipment. Or he's plotting staff appreciation ideas. Or he's in touch with other dentists about their funky cases. Then there are other nuances. What about his other office opening up? Does that count? He's working on it. But he won't be working in it.

Needless to say, for simplicity's sake, I've just counted patient hours. And so the stage is set for how our routine interviews turned into "awkward conversation with the US Census:"

Census: How many hours does Mr. Twiss work each week?
Me: 30
Census: ...And how many hours did Mr. Twiss work last week?
Me: 30.
Census: Does Mr. Twiss want to get more work, so that he can be up to 35 hours and considered full time?
Me: uh - no.
Census: Why not?
Me: ummmmm - because he makes a good living.... (?)

Awkward! And here's the interview repeated - but with the answers in my head:

Census: How many hours does Mr. Twiss work each week?
Me: (in the office? At home on office-related stuff? In meetings with his partner about the new office? How 'bout patient hours?) 30

Census: ...And how many hours did Mr. Twiss work last week?
Me: (Same caveats. Which direction do we head here? The simplest) 30.
Census: Does Mr. Twiss want to get more work, so that he can be up to 35 hours and considered full time?
Me: (What? He's not working full time? huh. I thought 30 was full time. I don't know. He just cut another hour off his schedule. He's cut hours - never added hours -for as long as I've known him - ). uh - no.
Census: Why not?
Me: (The voice in my head stops working at the insanity of this question. Why would someone want to work more? What? I'm confused. So, I talk and think simultaneously - usually not a good thing). ummmmm - because he makes a good living.... (?) (oh yeah, and feel free to hate me and Mr. Twiss for the rest of this interview)

So now the random phone worker at the Census may think I'm a spoiled, spoiled person. And maybe I am. But I tell ya - if she coulda just sat in my kitchen with me, hung out while we lived life, I could bake, the kids could run around, she could see that, really, we're unassuming and hard working. And that statistics really can't describe a family.

For those captivated by the idea of delicious, homemade, buttermilk biscuits - here is the recipe for what I made (and always make when I want the best biscuits ever)!

Mile High Biscuits

From Cooks’ Illustrated

Why this recipe works:

To create a rustic buttermilk biscuit recipe that would produce extra-fluffy, moist, tender rolls with crisp, golden-brown tops, we tried lard, vegetable shortening, and butter, both separately and in combination. The biscuits made with lard or shortening were bland compared with the richly flavored all-butter biscuits. A few more tests showed that the best way to add the butter to the dough was to combine it—chilled straight from the refrigerator—with the dry ingredients in a food processor. Knowing that steam contributed to the high rise of the biscuits (moisture in the dough converts to steam in the oven, causing the biscuits to swell), we experimented with oven temperature. Five minutes at 500 degrees followed by 15 minutes at 450 degrees maximized the rise from the steam.

Makes 12 biscuits

We prefer to use low-fat buttermilk in these biscuits, but nonfat buttermilk will work as well (though the biscuits will be a little lighter in texture and flavor). For the highest rise, use a double-acting baking powder, such as Calumet, Clabber Girl, or Davis. Store leftover biscuits in an airtight zipper-lock bag. Reheat by placing them on a baking sheet in a 475-degree oven for 5 to 7 minutes.

Ingredients

Nonstick cooking spray
Dough:
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (10 ounces)
1 tablespoon double-acting baking powder
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (cold), cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1 1/2 cups buttermilk cold, preferably low-fat
To Form and Finish Biscuits
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour (5 ounces), distributed in rimmed baking sheet
2 tablespoons unsalted butter , melted

Instructions

Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 500 degrees. Spray 9-inch round cake pan with nonstick cooking spray; set aside. Generously spray inside and outside of 1/4 cup dry measure with nonstick cooking spray.
For the dough: In food processor, pulse flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, and baking soda to combine, about six 1-second pulses. Scatter butter cubes evenly over dry ingredients; pulse until mixture resembles pebbly, coarse cornmeal, eight to ten 1-second pulses. Transfer mixture to medium bowl. Add buttermilk to dry ingredients and stir with rubber spatula until just incorporated (dough will be very wet and slightly lumpy).
To form and bake biscuits: Using 1/4 cup dry measure and working quickly, scoop level amount of dough; drop dough from measuring cup into flour on baking sheet (if dough sticks to cup, use small spoon to pull it free). Repeat with remaining dough, forming 12 evenly sized mounds. Dust tops of each piece of dough with flour from baking sheet. With floured hands, gently pick up piece of dough and coat with flour; gently shape dough into rough ball, shake off excess flour, and place in prepared cake pan. Repeat with remaining dough, arranging 9 rounds around perimeter of cake pan and 3 in center. Brush rounds with hot melted butter, taking care not to flatten them. Bake 5 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 450 degrees; continue to bake until biscuits are deep golden brown, about 15 minutes longer. Cool in pan 2 minutes, then invert biscuits from pan onto clean kitchen towel; turn biscuits right-side up and break apart. Cool 5 minutes longer and serve.

Step-by-Step

Shaping the Biscuits