There are very few foods out there that conjure up such clear and wonderful memories as scones do for me.
When I was much younger, every Saturday morning, my father and I would wake up early and go grocery shopping. It was the only time during the week that we could find to make these trips and I never quite understood why I wasn’t allowed to sleep in, but I always went along. The supermarket would be quiet and nearly empty, all food and vegetables fresh as we’d make our way up and down the aisles. Our last stop would always be the bakery section – as it still is today – where we would carefully select three scones, sometimes all different, sometimes all the same.
Upon returning home – after unpacking – the three of us (my father, my mother, and myself) would gather in the living room with our scones, butter, and raspberry jam and watch the new episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 on the SyFy Channel (back when it was still the SciFi Channel).
I was really nervous about making these. There’s something different about baking something rather than throwing a pasta dish together or roasting chicken. If you get one thing wrong with pasta, you can usually add something to fix it. You screw up with baking? You don’t know until after you pull it out of the oven and by then there’s nothing you can do.
And I don’t trust myself to do anything right.