How Not to Bake Scones

There are some things one should never do. Things like buying an elephant off Craigslist, or shellacking yourself to a flight of stairs (if it's not Art), or yelling in a cathedral. No matter what, these are bad ideas. But they pall in comparison to the decision to create a recipe for tea cakes with no guidance, no decency, and no respect for chemistry. That is just perverse.

But I did it anyway. I shouldn't have.

Perhaps I would have been wiser if I had gotten more sleep. I forgot my homework until practically midnight last night, and while I was frantically trying to finish in time to wake up in the morning, my mind wandered and decided it wanted a nice Dutch oven so that it might make a loaf of No-Knead Bread, something that sounds so enticing that...well, I spent an hour on Amazon, and while now I know a lot more about cast iron pots, my homework did not miraculously finish itself. So it was one in the morning before I went to sleep. I woke at seven, started finishing that wretched assignment at 7:30, finished it at 9:39 and bolted out the door at 10:08, frantic not to miss my bus and mildly upset that I couldn't find my portable tea mug anywhere. While I was on the bus, I did my Latin homework, which I'd also neglected and which was hard - we're reading Ovid's Amores, and my professor wants us to compose sentences in Latin, which is not the end of the world, just the end of Kate. Dictionariless, bereft of a verb book, I languished in guilt and self loathing, knowing I wouldn't be able to finish the assignment. I more or less did, but. Well. It wasn't great. By one in the afternoon, I had crashed completely. No caffeine and three hours of frenetic work that morning had left me utterly spent, and I taught someone how to knit in a sort of stupor. In Phonology I thought about food and baking and what I wanted from the grocery and paid little attention to the muscles and bones of the jaw. When I finally got out at 3, I was much too tired to consider going to the store, and could think only of what I would bake for myself after that long ride home.

I settled on scones. Healthy ones. With oats and whole wheat flour and no oil in them (this was what killed them, I think. Or at least, part of it). I didn't think I could afford to add an egg, and so I decided against that. When I walked in the door, I called my dear sweet boyfriend to come for tea, and then got everything together, threw it in a bowl, stirred, and called it good. Baked the grotesque little brown lumps. And out came...a gummy, pasty, flour-flavored mass of chagrin, which I humbly disdained and deigned unfit for human consumption. Besides, I hadn't had nearly enough tea for that kind of behavior in my baking. So I sat, staring woefully at my mistake, while Ian sitting next to me, all comfort, and I was too tired to even feel sad.

This is not quite as bad as the time a few weeks ago when I was having an annoying day and decided to make cookies. As usual, I chose not to use a recipe (did I mention that I don't take directions well? I don't take directions well). I mixed up a lovely bowl of whole wheat flour, egg, butter, sugar, baking soda, salt, and chocolate, and carefully dolloped it on a tray, and baked up the most horrific batch of non-cookies that have ever graced the known universe with their evilness. What had tasted like a slightly odd dough was transformed into a gelatinous mass of pudding-like brown glop which, instead of being sweet or even just a little odd, was reminiscent of the sharp, irony taste of blood, though rather less pleasant.

I think the reason I randomly experiment with baking so often and so readily is because a lot of the things I bake on a regular basis are recipe-free guesswork. My pancakes are quite delicious, and I do have a scone recipe which is delectable, and both of these I came up with without the aid of a recipe and with no guidance whatsoever. I've also made vegan banana pancakes with a peanut butter frosting, and chocolate cookies, and cakes, without help, though I can't remember what I did. So it seems reasonable that I should think myself capable of making decent baked goods, rather than completely indecent baked bads.

But this does prove one thing: if you're going to bake on minimal sleep, use a recipe. And if you don't feel that recipes are your style, have some idea of how to put together whatever you want to eat - know the basics of the class. When you have the basics, then you can experiment. But the basics are usually rigid. Don't mess around with the rules.

Kate

(I can't stop eating these) Ginger Cookies!

While I was visiting my hometown over what amounts to an extremely early Spring Break up here in the Frozen North, my emergency back-up mother, who is one of the best cooks I've ever mooched food off of, gave me a recipe for white chocolate gingerbread blondies. Blondies are essentially brownies without chocolate, though the dough is closer to the consistency of cookie dough. Ordinary blondies are laced with chocolate chips, and come out like thick, gooey chocolate chip cookie squares. She told me that these ginger ones made an enormous batch, and they vanished mysteriously fast.

When I got back to Canada, I knew I didn't have a pan to bake them in, and I wanted cookies. Plus, though I'm not averse to white chocolate completely, I was averse to paying five dollars for a woefully pathetic bag, so I tactfully omitted those from my creation. So I made a half batch without halving the spices, and they were ridiculously good. This, the second time I made them, I tweaked it a bit so there's some more flour. What happened the second time was that heaven descended on my kitchen and the gods kissed my cheeks and wept. It was awesome. So here it is: fantastically amazing ginger cookies.

Preheat the oven to 350 F.

Mix:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
5/8ths teaspoon baking soda
5/8ths teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

In a separate bowl, beat:
1 stick butter (8 Tablespoons)
5/8ths cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar

Beat this until it is fluffy and cries for its mother.

To this, add:
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/6th cup molasses

Stir allegro con multo passione until it is smooth and brown and lovely.

Gradually add dry mix to this, and stir until just combined.

Using the 1/2 teaspoon measure, spoon dollops of dough onto cookie sheets (I didn't bother to grease mine, and despite the lack of Teflon the cookies were perfect), spacing about 2.5 to 3 inches apart. Bake for 8 minutes, or until they're a little golden around the edges.

And then you eat them. All of them. They go perfectly with Celestial Seasonings Tension Tamer tea - I am a dork and I do dip cookies in my tea. The Queen would be indignant. But it's worth it. If you would like the original recipe, just ask and it will be yours.

Kate