This entry is mostly about the fear of making scones with limited resources. But first:
Thursday was July 14th the national holiday of France, otherwise known as Bastille Day. This is celebrated with the most uninspiring military parade in Paris and fireworks in every village and city throughout the country.
The husband decided to do an American style meal which featured pork chops and homemade barbecue sauce. As soon as the pork chops were unwrapped, the cat came running. He even had the gall to try and pull one off of the plate.
With fries and frita peppers.
And beer. Don’t forget the beer.
Today, it was my turn to make something. But I didn’t want to go to the store. I debated making strawberry mousse. But I didn’t have eggs or strawberries. So that was out. I thought about making a cake of speculoos. But I didn’t have eggs or milk or half of the spices needed for speculoos. So I sat on the couch watching Rome and wondering what to do.
When speaking to my mom on the phone, she told me about the strawberry and cream scones she’s been buying from Panera Bread. Hence, the strawberry mousse. Then I thought about scones. What’s in a scone? Would I need eggs? Would I need to leave the house? I asked the husband if he liked scones. He said, “are they like British muffins?” I said, “What the hell are British muffins?”
Apparently, he was talking about English muffins. But after we got past that confusion he said he was willing to try a scone.
I looked up a recipe on the internet. Buttermilk.
Buttermilk? It doesn’t exist in France. Unless you live in Normandy. So not only would I have to leave the house, I’d have to take a train to the opposite end of the country.
Then I found a buttermilk substitution. Milk and lemon juice. Let it sit for 5 minutes.
Oh wait. No milk.
But I did have crème legère or light cream. I decided to take a chance.
I mixed my dry ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder and baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg with butter. I had crumbs.
I tasted my “buttermilk.” It was sour enough, the way buttermilk should be. I started to pour it into my crumbs all the while thinking that this was probably NOT the way to make scones.
Mixing gave me a sticky paste. I rolled it out and got something like dough.
Then, because I cannot make cinnamon scones alone, I decided to add peaches to half of the batter. Once again thinking to myself that adding something watery to this dough was probably NOT the way to make scones. Especially when the dough absorbed the water and started to stick to everything in sight.
In the oven they went. They smelled tasty enough.
20 minutes later, they came out. Lo! Soft, sweet, even yes, fruity scones. The faux-buttermilk worked like a charm and they are moist, tangy scones that aren’t too dry and don’t have an odd taste. Husband approved and I can’t stop munching on them. So they aren’t strawberries and cream, but they are scones and they are mom inspired.