Just like the 19th century artifact that unlocked the secret of Egyptian hieroglyphics, I have finally stumbled upon the secret to making great scones. You know, fluffy and moist on the inside while simultaneously being a little crunchy on the outside with that great looking, craggly crater that forms on the top. I’ve tried recipes for years, and they all turn out too dry or too biscuity or too something else. Never have I been able to produce a scone that rivals the ones I grab at the bakery (or even Starbuck’s for that matter), until now.
If I Do Say So Myself
They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and that’s what happened here. I wanted to make something sweet for a weekend breakfast, but I was totally out of milk. No cream or half and half either. Not even contemplating a run to the grocery store (at 7:30 on a Sunday morning?!), I punted and decided to substitute some ricotta cheese for the liquid dairy in my off-the-top-of-my-head scone recipe. What I ended up with was Orange Ricotta Scones that were simply to die for. Who knew that laziness could lead to something good?
Honestly, I rarely think to myself, “Damn, that was a really good dish that I made.” I’m usually critiquing my own food before it hits the table (“it needs more of X or less of Y; if only I’d cooked it at a little lower temperature; why didn’t I think to add this to it? Blah, blah, blah…”). But I impressed even myself with these. They are honestly one of the best things I have ever baked (of course, coming from me, that’s not too sweeping a statement – I’ll admit that I’m nowhere close to a world-class baker. Although I designed this kitchen for a serious baker). They aren’t too sweet, but the addition of the orange zest makes it almost taste like the marmalade was baked right in. Besides, if you make the scones too sweet, then you can’t have a rich, sticky glaze over the top. For me, that’s not something I’m willing to compromise.
Check Your Work
If you’re going to make these, be advised to use quite a bit of flour when you turn them out because the dough is pretty tacky and soft. I ended up flouring my knife as well when I cut them. I usually brush the top with some cream, but since I didn’t have any, these went bare. They browned just nicely too. I imagine that the solids in the ricotta helped that along. And just that little hint of nutmeg in the background kept them from tasting like straight oranges.
In science, it only counts as a success if you can repeat the process. I haven’t tried yet – actually I’m a little worried about making lightening strike twice. So I may be back here in a little while, eating my words. Just in case, if you’ve got suggestions to make the perfect scone, let me know. I may need it.
These words, like the scones, are delicious! – Ed.
I’m excited. This could open up a whole new world of both savory and sweet treats in my future. I wonder if the Egyptians had a hieroglyph for ‘scone’?