Gas stations across Eastern North Carolina sell heaven: big, fresh biscuits with sharp, orange cheese baked inside.They come wrapped in wax paper, and the cheese is usually close to molten. Not a sprinkling of cheese. A hunk, completely wrapped in biscuit dough. It’s like a raw biscuit split itself open like Pac-Man, devoured a golf ball of cheese, baked itself, and puffed up to the size of a cat’s head. In the oven, the cheese doesn’t just melt; it soaks into the flour.