(Two) Scones That Are, Frankly, Fantastic
Home Movies Tuesday!
Hello and welcome to Home Movies Tuesday! If you’ve found your way over by some miracle but are not yet subscribed, here, let me help you with that:
Greetings from “Down Under,” where it occurred to me this week that everyone here gets their Home Movies Tuesday on Wednesday. Sorry for the confusion!
I’m about to head out to THEE Sydney Opera House* for my last and final event and WOW have I been on the verge of tears all day at the sheer magnitude of doing an event like this, after all these weeks on the road, after all these years doing this, after…just, well, a lot. I WILL likely cry on stage (by the time you read this, we’ll know if I did or not).
*When originally booked, I did email the publisher to ask if “Sydney Opera House” was the name of a cool bar or something and/or, if I was doing, like, the reception area at The Sydney Opera House? I truly could not believe it— sort of still don’t!
Anyway, HOME MOVIES! There are very few foods that simultaneously excite and disappoint me as much as a scone. The promise is always there, the delivery…..is often not. Not to say superlative scones don’t exist (they do!), it’s just more often than not I find that they’re better looking than tasting, favoring aesthetic and architectural and considerations over taste and texture. To say nothing of the fact that many scones contain dried fruits (dry + dry = wildly dry, and you KNOW how I feel about raisins).
The below are two very good scone recipes— one sweet (enough), one savory. Make one, make both, here are some SCONE TIPS FOR GREAT SCONES:
Do not over mix the dough. This video does a good job of showing you how messy/shaggy/chaotic the dough should look before stopping (I think!). Watch it. Rewatch it. Screenshot it. Do not worry if the dough looks “barely together,” (who among us)— I promise it will bake up tenderly and gorgeously.
If it’s that hyper tall, clean-edged scone you’re after (not something I prioritize, mostly because I’m impatient), either chill the rectangle of dough before cutting or chill the cut scones for an hour or so before baking.
Re: The sweet scones: The dough should be mostly together before adding in the berries. The juiciness in the berries will make the dough of sweet scone a touch “wet” feeling— this is okay, but this is why I add the berries at the end. They should be uniformly distributed without crushing them to a paste (this is mostly an issue with very ripe raspberries and halved blackberries, less so with blueberries).
Re: The savory scones: Feel free to take what you like and leave what you don’t. That said, the leeks (or scallions) will provide a good amount of moisture (in addition to flavor) here, so I do recommend having at least one or the other. If you don’t like dill, I’m “fine” with that— try parsley, or even finely chopped kale. If you really hate “green” things, leave it out. I GUESS.
Remember that scones have a mind of their own. They bake up a little puffy on one side, a little craggly on another. Maybe one part slopes while the other rises. Do not resent the scones for not behaving the way you thought they would in the oven. Scones are unique, scones are special. Scones are all of us!
PSA: As a reminder, paid subscribers get the chance to use the COMMENT section down below, so if you’ve got scone questions, ask away! It’s becoming increasingly inefficient, annoying and difficult to answer individual questions via Instagram, so this is where you’ll have my Q+A attention moving forward.
SPEAKING OF Q+A, in honor of a new soon-to-be-announced project, I’m re-upping ye olde CHEF’S KISS Q+A. HERE is where you submit your most burning questions related to all things cooking/eating/hosting/dining/kitchen...and, honestly, whatever else you think I might have an answer for: what should I cook for a third date, do I really need to go to that baby shower, is that olive oil really that good, will two gel manicures a month ruin your nails forever, etc. Don't be afraid to get personal-- you know I never am.
Sweet Enough Scones
makes 8 scones
I will hand it to them—scones always look great. But after being burned at every turn, one triangle of compacted sand after another, I couldn’t help but wonder: Are scones bad? A sobering truth, but yes. Scones are bad. Scones are dry. Scones disappoint. Sure, I’ve had EXCELLENT scones (hi, Tandem Bakery in Portland, Maine!), but they are far and few between. But I always order them, because I so badly believe in the concept. A slightly more firm muffin? A sweeter, fruity biscuit? Sign me up for all of the above.
So, I present: these scones. These scones are different, with so much fat that the flour is really just there as a courtesy, and more fruit than you suspect will fit, but it does, lending flavor and moisture. They are puffy, fluffy, and downright cloud-like. Tender without being cakey, and gorgeously deformed (on purpose), because anything that holds a perfect triangle shape is not to be trusted. They’re great, and I hope they change your mind about scones. I know they changed mine.
INGREDIENTS
½ cup/120g heavy cream, plus more for brushing
½ cup/110g sour cream
2 cups/290g all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
⅓ cup/70g sugar, plus more for sprinkling
1 tablespoon/12g baking powder
1¼ teaspoons/5g kosher salt
1 stick/4 ounces/115g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2½ cups/300g raspberries or blueberries, chopped strawberries, or halved blackberries
Flaky sea salt, to finish
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a small bowl, mix together the heavy cream and sour cream. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and kosher salt.
3. Using your hands, add the butter and smash it into the flour to get large-ish, flat, even pieces (most of the butter should be smushed, resembling flakes, rather than large chunks), not unlike pie dough before you add water, or biscuits before the buttermilk. Add the raspberries and toss to coat. Using a spoon, stir in the sour cream mixture and then use your hands to gently knead a few times just until a shaggy dough comes together (the berries will get crushed here, that’s okay).
4. Lightly flour your countertop and pat the dough into a rectangle about 6 × 9 inches, 2–1½ inches thick. Cut it in half lengthwise, then in half crosswise to make 4 pieces. Cut each piece in half on the diagonal so you’ve got 8 triangles. Place the scones on the lined baking sheet about 1 inch apart. For extra fluffy scones, refrigerate 20–30 minutes before baking.
5. Brush a little cream on top of the scones and sprinkle with sugar. Bake until golden brown on the tops and bottoms, 25–30 minutes.
EAT WITH: Fried eggs, sausage (links, not patties), an entire stick of softened butter.
DO AHEAD: The dough can be made 6–8 hours ahead, then covered and refrigerated. The scones can be baked a few hours ahead. Reheat before serving, if desired.
Cheesy, Salty, Savory Scones
makes 8 scones
This feels like a weird thing to casually drop in the middle of a dessert book, but: I absolutely, 100 percent, will always and forever prefer savory to sweet. I would rather eat an onion than an apple, lick salt than sugar. In case you feel the same, first, thank you for buying this book anyway, I hope it inspires you to give some sweet things a try. Second, you will adore this recipe. I believe in a heavy cream/sour cream-based scone rather than a laminated scone (which to me, is more of a biscuit); what you lose in “flakiness,” you make up for in richness, tenderness, and never-dryness.
INGREDIENTS
½ cup/120g heavy cream, plus more for brushing
½ cup/110g sour cream
1¾ cups/255g all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
1½ cups/125g finely grated parmesan or pecorino cheese, plus more for sprinkling
2–3 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper, plus more for sprinkling
1 tablespoon/12g baking powder
1 tablespoon/12g sugar
1¼ teaspoons/5g kosher salt
1 medium leek or 6 scallions, white and light-green parts only, very thinly sliced
¼ cup/12g finely chopped fresh dill (optional)
1 stick/4 ounces/115g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
Flaky sea salt
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a small bowl, mix together the heavy cream and sour cream. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, parmesan, pepper, baking powder, sugar, kosher salt, all but a small handful of leeks (you can use these reserved pieces to top the scones before baking), and dill (if using) until well blended.
3. Using your hands (never a food processor!), add the butter and smash the butter into the flour to get large-ish, flat, even pieces—most of the butter should be smushed, resembling flakes, rather than large chunks or cubes, not unlike pie dough before you add water, or biscuits before the buttermilk.
4. Using a spoon, stir in the sour cream mixture and then use your hands to gently knead a few times just until a shaggy dough comes together.
5. Lightly flour the countertop and turn the dough onto it, patting it into a rectangle about 6 × 9 inches and about 1½ inches thick. Cut it in half lengthwise, then in half crosswise to make 4 pieces. Cut each piece in half on the diagonal so you’ve got 8 triangles. Place the scones on the prepared baking sheet about 1 inch apart. For extra fluffy scones (or if the dough is feeling particularly soft/it’s particularly warm in your kitchen), refrigerate 20–30 minutes before baking.
6. Brush a little cream on top of the scones, sprinkle with sea salt and more pepper, and scatter a few reserved rings of the light-green part of the leek on top. Bake until golden brown on the tops and bottoms, 25–30 minutes.
EAT WITH: Fried eggs, sausage (links, not patties), an entire stick of softened butter.
DO AHEAD: The dough can be made 6–8 hours ahead, then covered and refrigerated. The scones can be baked a few hours ahead. Reheat before serving, if desired.
Bizarrely, I took the cheese version of these out of the oven about an hour ago. I can attest they are fantastic to the point of a verbal ‘these are incredible’
Please pass the savory scones. They sound like heaven right now, with a cup of tea. Sigh.