They make me drool. I have no shame and I am not afraid to admit it.
Say the word “Scone” and I immediately have two reactions. The first being a total Disco Reaction by my salivary glands, and the second being- “THOU SHALT FIGHT TO THE DEATH FOR THE HONOR OF THY MOTHER’S SCONES!”.
I hate to be a crasshole (Not.), but I will not, never, no how, no freaking way, eat any other scone that A) Isn’t hers or B) Isn’t right out of the oven. What my mouth and brain expect from a scone are hardly what I find under glass in a bakery or coffee shop. A flattened, glazed, frosted, chunked up and dense glob of baked flour that is suitable only to be used as an airplane wheel chock is SO not what I am after. It is with the memory of the beautiful, pale and unadorned scone of my mother’s labors to which I consider a standard. For the most part.
That said, I have learned a few things as I got older. Health became a concern. Flavor came to the forefront, primarily kicking Health to the curb. Butter replaced shortening to eliminate the “Eeuuggh” factor, give the scones a tan and supply more steam to enhance the loftiness. Vanilla showed up to the party, increasing the temptation to make the house smell good. As a compromise, I only make these scones about once a year. A wheat intolerant man in the house makes it way easier to keep them outta mind, but once in a while, ya just gotta say, “What The F*%&.”.
Mom’s scones came from her friend Beirda (Bierda, forgive me for butchering your name if you are still alive), and she passed it on to me. I’ve made these for friends all over the country, toting the recipe card with me on vacations, on treks and adventures in the wilderness, even on somber trips to see friends in mourning. The handwriting is that of my mother as only a child would recognize generations later, written on a 3 X 5 card that is yellowed by nearly 40 years of patina. It was a food of love back then, as most of Mom’s creations were, and they still stand as such today. This is a recipe I actually do share with people, in case they miss ME making scones for their pleasure, like I miss my mother doing for me. I am too freaking old to not share this one… Why deny joy?
In the pursuit of happiness, along with better educated palate and hands than I used to have, I bring you an updated version of my mother’s buttermilk scones. As usual, you can vary the accent flavors, but I prefer to do that with a compound butter instead of by screwing with the actual recipe. Please, friends, loved ones… Enjoy.
Get Started
Do yourself a favor. Go out to the hardware store and buy yourself a 4″ ceramic or terra cotta tile with no backing material on it. Throw it in the oven while you preheat and prepare the scones. Get a nice, dense basket, line it with about three thick dishtowels and set it aside. You’ll thank me later.
2 cups All Purpose Flour, plus 2 tablespoons for the board
1 tablespoon sugar, plus 1/4 cup for finishing (Demerara is lovely)
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
5 tablespoons butter (I prefer salted, actually)
3/4 cup buttermilk*
1 teaspoon Vanilla Bean Paste
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Prep a board with about 2 tablespoons of flour for dough working, and set the 1/4 cup sugar on the board near the flour, but not mixed into it.
Measure out all dry ingredients for the scones into a sifter and let it rip into a mixing bowl. Mix it well. Cut butter into 1/4″ cubes and blend them into the flour with your fingers until it is all gone- work quickly and leave large flakes in the flour. Toss this into the fridge for about 5 minutes. While the butter is rechilling, blend the vanilla paste into the buttermilk.
With a silicone spatula, quickly and gently blend the buttermilk-vanilla mixture into the flour. Get all of the flour wet and just clinging together and STOP with the spatula. With floured fingers, gently collect the dough into a ball in the bowl. If you can, flatten it and fold it in half about three times- use the board if you must, but use as little extra flour as possible.
Form a ball again, and flatten it, topside down, on the sugar you have spread on the board next to the flour. Carefilly flip it over and press the sugar into the top as you turn the ball into a disc about 3/4″ thick, smoothing the sides all the way around. Cut the disk into 8 triangles. Press each cut edge into the sugar and place the scone on a parchment lined baking pan. Bake for about 15-17 minutes, checking for doneness after 14 minutes or so.
Lay the hot tile in the bottom of the basket and place the scones on top. Quickly cover them with layers of towels and bring them to the table with a bowl of sliced compound butter, or a room temperature blob of it.
*Buttermilk notes: I used to keep Saco powdered buttermilk in the house for the spontaneous urge situation, but real buttermilk just kicks ass. Save the buttermilk powder for making ranch dressing or coating chicken before panfrying.
Jen’s Raisin Compound Butter
Learned this in school last week. Had some leftover from Chicken Kiev, of all things…
2 ounces SALTED butter (you heard me)
1/4 cup golden raisins, chopped as finely as you can manage
1/4 teaspoon fresh grated nutmeg
1 tablespoon lemon zest
(Don’t panic. The salted butter will make a nice contrast with the sweet scone and sweet filling of the butter.)
Dice butter, mix all ingredients until butter has softened to pasting texture and you can stir it with a spatula. Form into a log, place in plastic wrap and roll slightly until it thins out to about 1 1/2″ diameter. Chill well in fridge and cut into slices, rechill until plating time. Make this a few days ahead to allow the flavors to marry.
Variations for compound butter:
Lime zest, candied ginger and flaked coconut
Orange zest and cranberries (SO totally overdone. I hate this combination)
Walnuts, cinnamon and lemon zest
Toasted pecans, brown sugar and chipotle powder
Toasted hazlenuts and Valhrona chocolate shavings
Honey, lemon zest and candied ginger
Currants, cloves and orange zest
Canned poppyseed pastry filling and either zest (don’t knock the SOLO company’s goodies)
Canned almond pastry filling with either zest
… and on and on…
