The simple and compliant scones

Posted on February 22, 2008
Filed Under Uncategorized | 1 Comment

There’s something satisfying and soothing about baking. It’s probably related to that feeling of creating something, by relatively little effort, that lasts.

We’re not talking about the longevity that buildings can boast, only Wonder Bread has can compete with that, and thus shouldn’t be trusted, but we’re talking about something that lasts several meals. You may, for instance, use 30 minutes to create a dinner that only takes about 15 minutes to eat. Something which is against some people’s principles. My good friend Kåre, for one, has a principle announcing that no food should take longer to cook than to eat. A belief which, no doubt, has contributed to the pre cooked food industry. Personally I like to cook. The actual activity gives me pleasure, so such a principle would come in conflict with other principles, to put it bluntly.
A while ago I came to the conclusion that it was time to bake again. As previously mentioned there’s something appealing about baking, and it’s been a while since the last time I did any. As if destiny was playing into my hands, or vice versa, I noticed a small feature about scones on the back of one of the larger newspapers in the country just after I felt the urge to bake. The feature was about scones. Not only do I love a freshly baked scone with a cup of coffee and the morning newspaper, but the recipe looked exceptionally simple. Even simpler than regular bread, and even I can bake bread!

A short while later it was time to put my new plan into action. I was no longer in possession of the inspiring piece of paper, but I do however have my beloved cookbook The Joy of Cookin. I have through my ten or so years of food interest collected a rather large selection of cookbooks ranging from the bible Larousse Gastronomique through the book Italian Cooking that I once adopted from a not so food interested friend of mine to simple books about sushi and various more or less famous chef’s recipes between to covers. Joy of Cooking is a favourite because it not only give ingredients and cooking instructions but because it also tells you why you should do things in a particular way. That’s where I learned how microwave ovens work (and thus why cling film doesn’t melt in it).

Scones have two main forms. One is with sugar, and the other without. The one without can be made in numerous forms, and Joy of Cooking listed two, with chili or cheese, both which I’ve made a note of for later use, but in Norway, or Weegieland as Robyn calls it, you almost always get the sugary version. The most interesting variant of that in the book was with lemon juice and lemon zest, something Kåre would approve of, but raisins are way more common. I like those.

So I read the recipe and it’s instructions at the start of the chapter, and I quote: “They are tender, flaky and light, and veryquick and easy to make.” Further into the chapter I notice that the recipes have various amounts of baking soda and fluids and that they apparently all work. Scones are compliant and far from as picky in their ingredients and measurements unlike other pastries. Excellent, I thought.

Scones, unlike bread, ought not be kneaded well. On the contrary. If you do that you get a stretchy and tenacious dough that in turn leads to tough and tenacious rolls instead of scones. We don’t want that. The dough for scones only needs to be mixed until it turns into a single mass instead of various unrelated ingredients. Then you flatten it and press out circles with a kitchen glass and bake them. Easy and quick. However, it’s only easy if you’re not having a horrible day in the kitchen.

I baked scones following the recipe, even buying new baking powder as I didn’t trust the old one to still work. There was no expiration date and I had no idea when it was bought. As I’m not senile yet that likely means it’s expired. I figured I’d bake half with raisins and half without as my dear girlfriend prefers them without, and I with. The first mistake I did was to bake the classic scones. Without sugar. That wasn’t what I was aiming for, but I didn’t realize they were sugarless until I tasted them at which point something else ruined the taste to an even larger degree.

I mixed, cut out shapes, baked and placed myself in front of my computer awaiting the fruits of my labour. They were supposed to bake 10-12 minutes at 230 degrees celcius (450 degrees F). My oven doesn’t show the most accurate numbers between 210 and 250, so I put at 210 plus a little bit. Probably around 220. 15 minutes later I realized I had forgotten about my scones and ran to the oven. They were burned. I was cranky and depressed. Not only were they burned but the kitchen was messy and covered in flour. This was supposed to be the point in time where I used the happiness that tends to come from smelling newly baked pastries to inspire myself to clean up while the scones cooled off. It’s a tactic I’ve used for a long time, and it works. That is, when the baking doesn’t go wrong. Now I had to bite my tongue, clamp my teeth, brace myself, and that sort of thing, and start over. You see; these scones weren’t just for me. If they were I might have just cleaned up and eaten a sandwich while waiting for the disappointment to go away, but these were supposed to accompany me to the university the next day and be a surprise lunch for my girlfriend. However, serving burned scones, without sugar, was not an option. Oh, and at this point I realized I had also forgotten to divide the dough in two halves before putting in raisins. My girlfriend didn’t like raisins. I sighed, pulled myself together and started over.

This time I dropped the raisins entirely. I didn’t feel like dividing the dough and doing two versions, so when the choice was between my girlfriend eating evil raisin infected scones and me not having the sweet love of raisins caressing my taste buds; the choice was simple. My girlfriend is a great girl, but how you can like scones without raisins, and raisins without scones, but not scones with raisins is a mystery to me. Like so many things that relate to women. Oh, and I made very certain that to put sugar in this time.

I sat the alarmed on my cell phone at 10 minutes and once more placed my shiney hiney in front of the computer. After ten minutes I went to the kitchen and stood looking at my scones. They were done, lying in the oven, small and tan, much thanks to coating them with eggs. Oh, they were a bit on the small side. I had forgotten baking powder! I had something resembling fat cookies, not scones.  They were inedible. I swore loudly and went at it again. This was, apparently, not my day.

My third dough had a little more moisture than than the first two, and I added baking powder again. It was supposedly better to just bake with the wet dough than to add flour and knead more, so I did that. Kneading more than you need to is supposed to lead to tough rolls instead of scones. At least I knew to avoid that disaster. I shaped them and put them on the baking tray and put the tray in the oven for the third time. I did not plan to take any chances so I sat myself in front of the oven and read my book 101, One Year on Tour with Gluecifer (my translation). A book about the last tour of the Norwegian rock band Gluecifer written by Fritjof Jacobsen, also known as Biff Malibu from the band. The book is very entertaining and was able to lift my spirits. After reading for a bit I peeked into the oven. I wasn’t just watching raisinless scones, but also another fiasco.

They had collapsed in on themselves, were extremely porous and looked like golden cow turds. They tasted edible, but the texture was all wrong; hard and dry on the outside, porous like sand on the inside. They weren’t even close to the moist, soft and slightly heavy texture that characterizes scones in my dreams. These were almost worst, and to think that I had even paid attention. Staid in the kitchen! My self-image as a half competent baker had been delivered a fatal blow, and I was sincerely depressed. I went to the phone and sighed loudly. My shoulders were level with my chest as I called my girlfriend. She immediately realized something was wrong and worriedly asked me what it was. As I told her how through good intention I had spent the day in the kitchen failing to make scones, throwing batch after batch of sad pastries in the bin, she started laughing. Not an evil laughter, but found me bombing in the kitchen to be very amusing. After a while I felt better from hearing her voice, albeit with laughter, and said no, thanks to her coming to comfort me. It was late, and it was far too far away. In rising spirits I vowed that this was not to be the last battle between the scones and me. I’m way too stubborn to accept a loss and just move on.

Two days later I once again stood in the kitchen armed with flour, butter, sugar, baking powder and clean clothes that wasn’t covered in flour. This time I focused and followed the recipe to the letter except that I kneaded a little more than it tells you to. I wanted something not tough as bread nor porous as a turd, but the golden intersection between those two glorious images. I wanted scones. This time I can reveal that I actually made scones. They were an unmitigated success. I raised my hands above my head and celebrated. I had once again thrived in the kitchen. Oh, happy joy.

So how do you do it?

Scones

Mix all the dry ingredients and then add the butter. Massage the butter into the mixture until it’s like coarse crumbs, but don’t overdo it. You want bits of butter here and there in the dough that will turn into pockets of butter in the scones when baked. Mix in the milk all at once, with a spatula. Roll out the dough about 1 cm thick and cut out round pieces with a large kitchen glass. Put on a baking tray (I put some paper underneath) and bake at 210-230 degrees celcius for about 10 to 12 minutes.

Now, how on earth did I manage to get something as simple as this wrong three times in a row?

Welcome to Foodstruck!

Posted on February 15, 2008
Filed Under Uncategorized | 1 Comment

This here is another food blog, just like the title suggest. Shortly there shall be musings, food porn in the form of images, relentless displays of food love through rather large amounts of words, and the occasional fun bit. Not entirely certain what form those will take, but once in a while I pop a bit of fun in there, sometimes unintended, for your amusement. Be ready!