Mary's Currant Scones

In the past I've written about my mom's scones and how she'd bake them on Sundays while my dad spun reggae records on the living room turntable. It's one of my most treasured childhood memories and a tradition I hope to continue with my own children someday. (Though I suppose Laird and I will have to sort out whether we'll make Nana's or my mom's scones. Maybe we'll alternate?)

Light, buttery and studded with Zante currants, mom's scones weren't the dry, heavy sugar bombs you find these days at Starbucks. I've encountered scones like hers only once: at afternoon tea on The Veranda at the Moana Surfrider Waikiki. I enjoyed them so much, the hotel sent me home with a little box of them (but not the recipe). 

I don't have my mom's recipe, either, but with some experimentation I've come up with a close approximation. They're not quite the same, but if I put on some reggae, I can almost imagine she's here with me.

Mary's Currant Scones

Makes about 8

As with any scone or biscuit, the key here is to use a very light touch. Mix the ingredients and handle the dough as little as possible.

3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons sugar, plus more for sanding

1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt

3 tablespoons baking powder

3/4 cup Zante currants (Use raisins if you can't find Zante currants, but avoid the more widely available golden currants.)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, very cold, cut into 1/4-inch pieces

1 1/4 cups whole milk, very cold

Half and half OR 1 egg yolk, whisked

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F and line a baking sheet with parchment.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, 2 tablespoons sugar, salt and baking powder. Add the currants and toss to coat with the flour mixture. Rub in the cold butter with your fingertips, working quickly so as not to warm the butter. The mixture should resemble very coarse cornmeal with large pea sized lumps of butter throughout. Add the milk all at once and gently stir until the dough just begins to come together. Turn it a few times in the bowl to pick up the dry flour bits at the bottom.

3. Transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet and quickly shape it into a rectangle about 1 1/4 inch thick. Cut the rectangle on the diagonal to form 8 wedges (see below). Brush with half and half or whisked egg yolk, and sprinkle with sugar. 

4.  Bake for 18-25 minutes, rotating pan halfway through, until scones are golden brown on top and sound hollow when tapped. Cool on a rack for 5 minutes, break into wedges, and serve with butter and jam.

Scones are best served warm, on the day they're made. However, I've had success freezing and then reheating them in a 350 degree F oven.

One Love, Two (Batches Of) Scones

Growing up, one of my family's many food traditions was reggae and scones on Sundays. My dad would spin records on the living room turntable while my mom turned out rustic, currant-studded scones from our tiniest of kitchens.

Though my dad is no longer with us, for Father's Day yesterday I honored him (and our family's tradition) by firing up some reggae and scones. Twice.

I put a new twist on tradition by using my husband's grandmother's (Nana's) recipe for South African scones. While my mom's scones were triangular, flaky and slightly sweet, South African scones are unsweetened, round, and more like biscuits from the American South. They're really just a vehicle for jam (typically apricot or strawberry) and unsweetened, freshly-whipped cream.

Some other distinctions worth mentioning:

1. In South Africa, "scone" is pronounced "sk-ON," not "sk-OHHH-n" When I was first dating my husband, I tried to impress him by making sk-OHHH-nz. Not only was I making them in the American style and adding currants (oh, the horror!), I was mispronouncing the very word.

2. As is the rule when making biscuits, the key to success with Nana's scones is to use a very light touch. Overworking the dough will result in a hockey pucks, not scones.

3. Speaking of hockey pucks: always make certain your baking powder is fresh. Read on to see why.

Nana's Scones
Makes 6 (2 3/4-inch) scones
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (recommended: King Arthur Organic)

3 teaspoons baking powder (aluminum-free or homemade)

1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1/4 inch pieces
1/2 cup milk (traditionally whole, but I use 2% with good results)
1 large egg
water

1. Heat oven to 450 degrees F and line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment. (I usually use both, and highly recommend the use of silicone baking mats for their insulating and heat-distribution properties. I also swear by commercial-grade aluminum jelly roll pans.)

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt. Quickly rub the butter into the flour mixture with your fingertips until the mixture is a bit more coarse than coarse cornmeal. You want some pea-sized lumps to remain.

3. Measure 1/2 cup milk in a liquid measuring cup. Add the egg and whisk to combine. You need 3/4 cup of liquid, so, if needed, whisk a bit of water into the milk-egg mixture until you have 3/4 cup total.

4. Add the milk mixture to the flour mixture and gently stir with a fork until it the dough forms a ball. Turn out onto a well-floured surface and sprinkle evenly with flour. Flour your hands and gently pat the dough into a round, making a couple gentle passes with a floured rolling pin until the round is about 3/4-inch thick.

 
5. Stamp scones from the dough using a 2-3/4-inch round biscuit cutter, gently gathering the scraps and re-shaping the dough one or two more times until you've used all of it. (Do not overwork this dough!) Be sure to employ a biscuit-cutting technique, pressing the biscuit-cutter straight down into the dough without turning or wiggling it, then gently pulling the dough away from the rounds you've cut.

6. Place the rounds on the prepared baking sheet and bake on the center oven rack for 8-12 minutes, checking the scones for even browning (and rotating the baking sheet back-to-front if needed) after 6 minutes.

Ahem. Except my scones didn't rise and I ended up making them all over again.

It all went wrong with an innocent little tin of baking powder.

The Culprit



You see, baking powder and baking soda have limited shelf lives -- generally about 6 months when stored in a cool, dry place. After which, they lose their ability to make things rise.

I know this.

But when I began making my Father's Day scones, I spaced on the fact that I was out of baking powder, thanks to the previous week's baking frenzy. No biggie, I thought, I'll just make homemade baking powder from cream of tartar and baking soda. Nope. I was out of cream of tartar, too. But I did find a little tin of baking powder when I was rooting around in the cupboard for leavening agents. I was so happy with my discovery, I didn't even bother to check the expiration date. I just whisked the baking powder into my flour and proceeded onward.

Turns out the baking powder was two years old. And old baking powder = hockey pucks.



Hockey Puck



So I went to the market, bought a fresh tin of baking powder (and some cream of tartar), and started over. The upside is, my dad's memory was honored not once, but twice also.



Scone