I’ve been retaining on to a secret so troubling that I assume it may almost be labeled as treason as a Brit. I think scones are overrated. Yep, almost as stunning as admitting you don’t realize the words to Three Lions or have never seen an episode of Coronation Street; I firmly trust that the traditional, British teatime treat is overhyped, and I’m now not afraid to mention it. Okay, I am slightly scared to say it because my Cornish colleague cautioned I might be banned from getting into Cornwall for all time, and I love Cornwall. But consider it for a second; can you say, hand on coronary heart, that you love scones, which you get an overwhelming choice to eat the cream tea deal with? The latest YouGov survey observed that along with Victoria sponge, scones had been considered the first-class, candy British meals. Above mince pies, above jam roly-poly…
ABOVE BATTENBERG CAKE!
Yes, you would possibly like scones and will in no way turn one down, but with regards to the hierarchy of baked goods, they’re just a piece underwhelming. If you’re on the cafe counter and see a scone, a slice of carrot cake, and a brownie, don’t inform me you’d pass for the scone… I don’t accept it as true. Yes, the humble scone does own features that I recognize. It’s wonderfully easy, it doesn’t try to be something it isn’t, and when accomplished properly, they are delicious. Plus, it’s associated with the lovely activity of afternoon tea.
And who doesn’t love to sit down for a cuppa, finger sandwiches, and desserts as a pleasing treat for lunch and dinner? But hear me out. When they’re not made nicely (more regularly than ever), scones are dry, simple, and overly crumbly, nearly a weapon, solidifying to the roof of your mouth like papier-mache.
Death via stale scone. And it pains me that scones are what we’re so widely known for when the UK is the writer of SUCH tremendous cakes. Yes, they’re clean to whip up, and we adore to suppose the Queen eats them every day at 4 p.m.; however, let’s face it, the scone itself is not why we love them. It’s simply a vessel for the excellent element – clotted cream and jam – and doesn’t tell me otherwise. But put off those two superb condiments, and you’re left with something that isn’t always that exciting, now and again, like consuming the ends of a stale loaf of bread.
How to make the best scone:
- 225g self-raising flour, plus greater dust
- 75g room-temperature butter reduced into cubes
- One huge egg
- 40g golden caster sugar
- 2-5tbsp buttermilk or milk, plus extra to glaze
Sift flour into the bowl, add a pinch of salt, and blend. Add butter, then gently rub in with your fingertips until the aggregate resembles breadcrumbs. Add sugar and stir in. Put the egg into a jug, add 2 tbsp of the buttermilk or milk, and beat collectively. Make a well within the center of the fall apart and upload the egg mixture. Using a spherical-bladed knife, mix the egg steadily into the collapse. As the dough paperwork, deliver it collectively with your fingers; it should be tender, not sticky. If it feels dry, add greater buttermilk or milk, 1 tsp at a time.
Shape the dough into a rough ball, then pat it into a spherical. Lightly flour work surface and a rolling pin. Gently roll the dough right into a round at least 2.5cm thick. Cut out each scone with a 5cm cutter. Please don’t twist the knife; carry it and simplify the dough. You’ll get five or six scones out of the spherical. Gather the trappings, re-roll to an equal thickness, and cut extra, repeating until you a complete 8.
Dust a massive baking tray with flour and arrange the scones on it. Lightly brush each one with buttermilk or milk, then dirt with more flour. Bake at the top shelf of a pre-heated oven – 220ºC (200ºC fan oven) – for 10-12min, or till nicely risen and golden. Transfer scones to a cord rack to chill for 5min or until heated.