Warm Scones after Hockey
I often wonder why my mom never tires of me asking for her recipes.
Since my university days I have frequently called home with last-minute menu requests. She has the patience of a saint, especially because her recipes are not the easiest to locate. Her vast collection is stacked among boxes in an unfinished basement. Old books, recipe cards, scrap pieces of paper and news clippings – no dewey decimal system there. A while back, my mom committed to bringing some order to it, and even invested in an online organization system, but it never did get off the ground.
If there was a food that was always around when I was growing up, it was my mom’s scones. Like most kids, I always thought there was no food in the house (no food meant no chips, pop or Jos. Louis), but I'm pretty sure that few kids on my block could say they ate freshly baked scones on a regular basis. The fond memory of my mom whipping up a batch of scones after school, cross-country skiing or hockey (or just because we had no food in the house) makes my stomach grumble.
The beauty of these scones is their simplicity – they contain no eggs or cream, and trust me, they don’t suffer for the lack of it. Fresh out of the oven they are wonderfully crunchy on the outside, and light and fluffy inside. Taste these once and you will become addicted. Lucky for you, you'll be able to satisfy the cravings all the time as you just won’t find an easier recipe!
As soon as my sister was old enough to turn on the oven, my mom passed the torch and she became the primary scone baker. I don’t remember ever making them (until the other day!), but after revisiting this comforting recipe, I think it may just become a regular weekend morning occurrence in my household. Thanks, Mom.
Michael Clark
Michael is a banker with a love for bread. His desire was kindled by morning visits to a local bakery while holidaying in France. He was struck by the passion of the bakers and the simplicity of hand made bread— 4 ingredients; flour, salt, water and yeast. He soon found himself experimenting in his own kitchen, before recruiting a master baker to show him the ropes. Wanting a taste of the real thing, he traded his holidays for midnight shifts in one of Canada's leading artisan bread bakeries. To quote Michael, “there is nothing more satisfying then the solitude of waking up early, hand kneading the dough, smelling the aromas coming from the oven and then slathering a hot piece of bread with some delicious butter”. An avid traveler, he seeks out crusty loaves and the people who make them around world. When not working in The City, Michael can be found in his London kitchen or his local pub