Panic or act: currant cream scones
On election day 2016, I wore the closest thing I had to a pantsuit to work. I felt mostly exhilarated but a little anxious. A law student came by the office for a mentor meeting with one of my bosses, and I explained that we normally didn’t dress up for everyday work. We reserved suits for court appearances. I didn’t want her to think we were stuffy. But she laughed and said everyone at law school had a pantsuit on, too. Because election day 2016 was a different kind of election day.
I accomplished almost nothing all day other than scanning the news. I knew results wouldn’t be in until after dinner, but I couldn’t peel myself away.
Refresh... Refresh... Refresh... Nothing.
A nervous buzz accompanied my commute home on light rail. Jonathan and I ate in front of a laptop that blared speculation. Our friend, Robbie, came over to watch the results roll in with us. To celebrate with us.
Or so we hoped.
We realized things looked dicier than we expected pretty early. Our hopes rose and fell with each movement of the New York Times predictor needle. And I couldn’t just sit there anymore.
So I jumped up and started baking my favorite currant cream scones. Because they come together in less than half an hour. Because scones always feel fancy to me (must be their role in British high tea). Because I needed to put my hands to work.
The scones delivered. The election did not.
Writing about this brings back the nausea I felt that night. The fear overwhelms because we’re not out of the woods. As a former Republican strategist recently explained, a failed casino owner who publically talks about having sex with his daughter runs our country. And he might steal the next election.
But I didn’t start this post to stoke panic. Instead, I think I found a way out. Or at least I think I found a better way to live than swinging from one fear to another.
When I focus on what I can do in this moment—in this time and place—a lighter, more empowered feeling replaces the panic. I’m a more responsible person when I’m not checking the news 19 times each day because I can direct my attention to things I’m capable of changing. A conversation with my local mayor. Volunteering on a state representative campaign. Picking up garbage on my evening walk. Talking with the neighbor who sometimes flies a Trump flag.
I recognize the importance of paying attention to world events. I’ve just skewed so far in that direction that I forgot how to use my hands.
Of course, the Buddha figured this out a couple thousand years ago. Same with Jesus. I may be late to the game but better late than never. Not that I’m comparing myself to the Buddha or Jesus. That could be a tad self-aggrandizing.
Anyway, I’m using these scones as a reminder to replace global panic with local action. Whether you need that reminder or not, I think these scones will hit the spot.
Servings: makes 8 scones Time: 25 minutes active + 15 minutes baking Via: Inspired by Boat Street
If we happen to have any of these leftover (rarely), we store them in an airtight container in the freezer. Let thaw at room temperature and pop them into a 350 degree F. oven for a few minutes before serving.
Update 4/1/22: When I originally posted this recipe, I mistakenly wrote “baking soda” instead of “baking powder.” Oops. I then made the scones with said “baking soda.” Do not do this. They are beyond bitter. So the recipe now correctly calls for baking powder.
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
Zest of 1 lemon
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
1/2 cup dried currants
1 cup heavy cream + a splash extra for brushing on top
Course sugar for sprinkling on top (I prefer turbinado sugar)
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt.
Put the sugar in a liquid measuring cup (to be used later for the heavy cream) and add the lemon zest. Massage the sugar and lemon zest together with your fingertips for a minute or two. I like to breathe a little more deeply here because the scent is so lemony fresh. Add the sugar and lemon zest to the dry ingredients.
Cut the chilled butter into quarter-inch cubes. Massage the butter into the dry ingredients using your fingertips until the texture resembles crumbly sand (see photo above).
Stir in the dried currants.
Stir in 1 cup of the heavy cream with a fork until the dough mostly comes together (see photo above).
Remove the dough onto a very lightly floured cutting board or counter and pat the dough into a circle with a roughly 8-inch diameter.
Use a bench scraper or knife to make 8 wedges (see photo above).
Add a splash of heavy cream to the liquid measuring cup used earlier and brush the tops of the wedges to lightly coat. Sprinkle coarse sugar over the tops.
Place wedges on a sheet pan and bake for 12-15 minutes—until tops are light golden brown in places.
Cool on a wire rack for a few minutes. I like to serve with butter and jam, but they’re great plain, too.