True Confessions of a Daffodil Thief
The first day of spring calls for a celebration
Central Pennsylvania had a rough winter. I saw it in the downcast eyes of everyone on the street. Spring can’t come soon enough. Today is the official start of spring, and the brilliant neon pink sunrise seemed to turn something on. People were lighter on their feet today on College Avenue, daring to smile.
My friends Sam and Nina are in Florida, and I drove by their house earlier in the week and found tall pots with their cedar sentinels by the door blown over from the high winds. I righted them as best I could and walked around the yard seeing all their daffodils shivering, some barely yellow emergent tips crusted with ice. I pulled out my penknife and rescued them, since no one was home to enjoy their glory, and I myself needed their hopeful presence.
This morning, I celebrated the turn of the season by baking some oatmeal scones to deliver about town. Feeling the yellow glow of the daffs, I grated some lemon zest into the dough and soaked some dried Michigan Montmorency cherries in hot water to soften them a bit before adding them to the mix. It was a bright combo.
Many years ago, in 1995, Barbara Lange and I ran a coffee shop called Q’s Café in the Encore bookstore for one very long year. Barb is a gifted baker and kept the large case full of cakes and pastries, rotating Hazlenut Torte, Boston Cream Pie, and Carrot Cake, with assorted quick breads and our signature Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies, always keeping things interesting. But one item we had on the menu every single day was our Oatmeal Scones, which evolved from a recipe my sister-in-law gave me. We made it incorrectly one pre-dawn morning—we doubled the butter—but we liked it better, so we kept making it that way every single morning.
Scones don’t last. They are best warm right out of the oven, and fine throughout the day, but the next day, they’re done. We learned to bake only as many as we sold, and people who liked them learned to get there early.
They are not the typical delicate British scone like my friend Liz Pratt made for me when I visited her. They are rather countrified or Scots-a-fied with oatmeal. These days, I use some whole wheat flour as well, to make them as healthy a treat as a baked good containing a stick of butter can be. And I made them small, carving out 16 scones instead of 12, so I would have more to give away.
I headed into town to drop some off to Bill Clark at the Cheese Shoppe, who celebrated his birthday yesterday, and took a few to the young Turks who run a computer fix-it shop. When I was there with questions earlier in the week, I had a great discussion about tea with one of the techno wizards and found we had common ground in our love of Ahmad Tea. I dropped off scones for their tea break. Oh, and they are going to work on my ailing computer next week. I called Barb to see if she could join me for a cup and a scone in the afternoon, but she was, of course, busy baking for a friend’s birthday party. No one lets her rest.
On my way home, I veered off the highway and parked with my flashers on to walk in and see the Boalsburg limestone kiln that I heard about from a friend who lives close to it. The area around the kiln is fenced off and is just beyond the backyards of the Country Place development, a very low-key nod to the industry that boosted our area in the beginning of the 1900’s. It looked like a bit of a sacred space to me, a hiding place that is quite likely a popular condominium for the local marmots. Well, we do worship groundhogs in Pennsylvania.
I attended a Bellefonte Art Museum event last night at Brass 16823, held in the old Cerro Metals Building, now part of Titan Energy Park. I heard all about the plant’s history and plans for the future as an incubator for dozens of small businesses. The tour and lecture by Joe Leahey, who owns the property with his brother, focused on the importance of Centre County in the 20th-century development of our entire nation. It was a sizzling talk, and gave a picture of the industry embedded in those walls on the 174-acre campus. If you are in Centre County, don’t miss the Bellefonte Art Museum’s current industrial art exhibit, so you can appreciate the foundations that are mostly unseen to us today as we focus on our small screens.
My last stop before I got home was to drop off scones to our buddy Andy, the guardian angel of our house when we are away. I enjoyed seeing his brave purple crocuses and the pointy hopeful tips of his daffodils just emerging. Yes. It is spring, and each day we will have more to appreciate, like daffodils and scones.
I’ve used this little scrap of paper for the scones for over 30 years. All-time-honored recipes show the wear and tear of use, and that is why they are the best. It’s a bit cryptic, so I’ll sort it out here, with some tips. We used to make 36 hefty ones at a time for Q’s Café.
First Day of Spring Oatmeal Scones
Makes 12 or 16
½ cup unsalted butter, melted
½ cup milk
1 egg
1 cup AP flour
½ cup whole wheat flour
! ½ cups oats
¼ cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup dried cherries (or raisins, currants, or any other dried fruit), soaked in hot water if your dried fruit is a little hard
1 teaspoon lemon zest
I like to play “beat the clock” when I make these. That means I get all the ingredients out and set up my mise en place so they come together quickly. Once everything is at my fingertips, including my measuring tools and the baking tray lined with parchment paper, the scones go together very quickly. Clean the surface you will shape the dough on and dust it with a little flour.
Heat the oven to 425ºF.
Melt the butter in a 2-cup Pyrex at low power, covering the top with the butter wrapper to avoid splatters. That takes two minutes, which I use to measure out the dry ingredients into a large bowl.
Measure out the flours, oats, sugar, baking powder, cream of tartar, and salt.
Add the fruit and zest to the dry ingredients and give it all a toss with a fork to combine. (If you are adding raisins, no need to soak.)
Add the milk and egg to the melted butter in the measuring cup and whisk with a fork. The butter may get semisolid again but that is fine.
Add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir with a fork to combine into a ball. Don’t overmix. A light touch is best.
Put the ball of dough on the prepared surface and divide it into two with a dough scraper or a large knife. Pat each half into a flat cake, then divide each patty cake into 6 or 8 pieces. Lift up each wedge, place it on the parchment-lined tray, and put the tray into the preheated oven. (Did you beat the clock and make it before the ding indicates the oven is up to temp? That’s the challenge.)
Bake for 12-15 minutes until golden brown on the bottom. Cool a bit and test one while warm. Happy Spring!
