I love to bake. I find it comforting: losing myself in the measuring of ingredients, careful kneading and shaping of dough, and the satisfying feeling of removing a (hopefully) beautiful pan of goodies from your oven that will (hopefully) last at least a few days. This love of baking, by the way, is in direct conflict with my borderline-obsessive need to have a clean kitchen and the fact that I have black countertops. The conflict, however, is balanced out nicely by the fact that I can almost always bake something without having to make a trip to the grocery store. A trip to the grocery store with two small children, in case you didn't know, is kind of an ordeal when said children may not have any inclination whatsoever to go to the store, unless they happen to remember that the store has free samples of cookies and also that the store is next to the big Shrek billboard. ("Do you see Shrek? Hi, Shrek!") All of that said, my desire to avoid unnecessary trips to the store regularly results in recipe substitutions that don't always work. This time, though, they worked beautifully.
A recent conversation I had with a friend got me thinking about how I want to be an expert scone baker. I frequently have such thoughts, picture the little thought bubbles: I want to be an expert at making sourdough bread, I want to be an expert at making biscuits, I want to be an expert at mollecular gastronomy, I want to be an expert at building bridges...well, you understand. The thoughts come and go, and I don't always put my "I want to be an expert" thoughts into action, but today I did. And do you know what I found out? This recipe makes scones seem like the easiest thing ever! Seriously, I was upstairs pretending to take a nap and looking at facebook when, just about forty-five minutes before my kids would be waking up from their own naps, I clapped the laptop closed and ran downstairs to make scones.
The first recipe I thought of was Molly Wizenberg's, from her book, A Homemade Life, which my friend Aja recently lent me (with the instruction that I had to return it, as it was not hers to begin with. Also, she said "You are this girl." This girl and I have a lot of things in common, but unfortunately her intimate knowledge of Paris is not one of them.) I have had the book for less than two weeks and have already made three of her recipes. (these scones, the tarte tatin, and the roasted cauliflower with salsa verde) Luckily for me, all of the recipes from the book can be found on Wizenberg's blog. I guess I will go ahead and give the book back. Pout.
Sort-of Molly Wizenberg's Scottish Scones with Lemon and Ginger
Please forgive the constant substitutions.
adapted from A Homemade Life
Makes eight scones
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour (Wizenberg calls for 2 cups unbleached all purpose flour and no whole wheat flour)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into little pieces
4 tablespoons sugar (Wizenberg only uses three, but I changed the ginger, so I upped the sugar)
2 teaspoons lemon zest, roughly one large lemon's worth
1 tablespoon ground ginger (Wizenberg used 1/4 cup finely chopped crystallized ginger)
1/2 cup milk, plus extra for glazing (Wizenberg used 1/2 cup half and half, plus more for glazing)
1 large egg plus one yolk, plus another yolk for glazing
See, I wasn't kidding about all of the substitutions. I used half white and half whole wheat flour, because whole wheat equals healthy, but using only whole wheat flour will make an already slightly dense scone weigh approximately four pounds. I did not have any half and half, so I used milk mixed with an extra yolk to boost the fat content so that the milk would more closely resemble half and half. I also used milk mixed with an egg yolk for the glaze, for the same reason. I substituted a tablespoon of ground ginger for the crystallized ginger, and added an extra tablespoon of sugar to make up for the sugar that would be missing from the crystallized ginger.
OK, Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
In a large bowl, whisk together your flours, baking powder, and salt. Using your hands, rub the butter into the flour mixture, squeezing and pinching with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse meal and there are no butter lumps left larger than a pea. Add the sugar, lemon zest, and ginger and whisk to combine.
Pour the 1/2 cup of milk, the egg, and the egg yolk into a small bowl and mix with a fork until combined. Pour the egg mixture into the dry ingredients and stir gently with the fork to combine. Don't worry about incorporating every little last bit of flour in the bowl. Just mix to combine. Over-mixing will lead to tough scones. Turn the ingredients in the bowl onto a lightly floured surface, such as your counter, and press and knead the mixture into a circle about one inch thick. Don't knead it too much, just until it stays together in that one inch thick circle. Cut the circle into eight wedges.
Mix the remaining egg yolk with a splash of milk and brush the mixture lightly onto each scone. If you had some raw sugar lying around, you could sprinkle some on top of each scone to make them pretty.
Place the wedges onto a parchment or silpat-lined baking sheet and bake for 10-14 minutes, until lightly browned. The scones are done when you tap on the bottom of one and the sound is a bit hollow.
The scones will be best eaten within a couple of days of making them. For keeping them longer than that, freeze them in a ziplock. Thaw and toast, serve with butter.
