Why We Think We Make the Best Biscuits and Gravy in Orlando
If you are looking for the best biscuits and gravy in Orlando, you’ve come to the right place.
I have opinions about biscuits and gravy. Strong ones. After years of feeding breakfast to Orlando locals who know exactly what they want before they sit down, I’ve learned this dish is personal. Folks show up with memories tied to it. Grandma kitchens. Road trips. Late mornings that turn into early afternoons. That plate can’t feel fussy. It has to feel right.
My loyalty sits firmly with white country-style gravy. Pale white. Creamy. No dark roux flavor sneaking in. I want gravy that looks soft before you even taste it. If it’s brown, my brain already thinks “dinner.” Breakfast gravy should stay light. Comforting. A little messy in the best way.
This is where my husband enters the picture, minus any romantic fluff. He came up with a method years ago that stuck. We heat crumbled raw pork sausage slowly. No browning. No crispy bits. No caramelized edges. Just gentle heat and patience. People look at me funny when I explain it. They expect sizzle. They expect color. I expect control.
Keeping the sausage from browning keeps the gravy from turning tan. That’s the whole point. Once sausage browns, the gravy follows. Flavor shifts. The plate feels heavier. That slow heat keeps the fat clean and mild. The sausage cooks through without shouting about it. That’s the base I want.
Milk matters more than people think. We add it early and in small amounts. That keeps the gravy creamy instead of pasty. Nobody wants lumps. Nobody wants gravy that hits the plate like wallpaper paste. The milk loosens things just enough. It stays smooth. It stays spoonable. It coats the biscuit instead of drowning it.
I’ve eaten biscuits and gravy all over town. Some are fine. Some are way too thick. Some taste like flour had a bad day. Others lean pepper-heavy to hide the fact that the gravy broke halfway through cooking. I get it. It’s an easy dish to mess up. Simple food shows mistakes fast.
Our biscuits do a lot of the work. They’re big. Tall. Buttermilk all the way. Baked fresh every single day. No shortcuts. I want a biscuit that pulls apart with your hands. One that can soak up gravy without collapsing into sadness. You should be able to drag a fork through the center and catch layers, not crumbs.
This dish ends up ordered by people who swear they never order biscuits and gravy. That always makes me smile. They’ll say they’re just in the mood today. Next week, they order it again. That’s how I know we’re doing something right.
There’s nothing trendy about this plate. No wild twists. No surprise toppings. Just care, timing, and a little stubbornness about keeping gravy white. I stand by it. Every morning.
If you’re hunting for biscuits and gravy in Orlando, I hope you end up somewhere that treats it with respect. If you land at my cafe, expect a big biscuit, soft gravy, and zero browning drama. Eat it slow. Or don’t. I won’t judge. I’ll just be happy you showed up hungry.