Pin It
The house is empty. I hear nothing except the hum of my computer, our neighbor's dog barking occasionally and geese honking in complaint on the lake across the street.
It wasn't this serene here an hour ago. Dudette was watching something to do with Peter Pan on television and complaining about being hungry. Hubby was directing some very colorful language at his laptop, which was acting like the geriatric computer that it is. And I was pulsing butter and flour together in my food processor because Martha told me to.
At just about the same time my scones went in the oven, Hubby decided to take Dudette out to breakfast for some father/daughter time. Quiet descended as the door shut behind them. Quiet that I really, really needed.
I am not a morning person. I'm not one of those that requires the ten-foot sphere of avoidance for an hour or so; my brain and body just don't function at full capacity until both have had time to rev up. . .slowly. Loud noise, endless questions (like those from a five year-old) and working through a Martha Stewart recipe all at the same time? It's not a good thing. (I can't get in trouble for twisting her line can I?)
Normally I wouldn't attempt to do any baking first thing in the morning, but I really wanted these scones and my candied orange and golden raisins had been soaking in Grand Marnier. They were drunk and ready to be used.
The Process
This is definitely a process. In fact, it starts the day before by giving chopped candied orange and golden raisins a swim in Grand Marnier (though if you don't have any orange liqueur brandy would work just fine).
Once ready to start the scones, combining dry ingredients and mixing in the butter is easy (made even more so by using the food processor). Wet stuff gets incorporated into dry and the whole mess is dumped onto a floured baking sheet.
This begins the part that gets me creating new words. I had to pat out the dough to a certain size; and no, my edges weren't razor sharp like Martha's are. Soggy fruit got pressed into the dough. Then I had to fold that dough into thirds, roll it back out and fold it again.
If you have this issue of Martha Stewart Living, you'll see a picture of the folding technique. You'll also notice that Martha uses dough that doesn't have alcohol-soaked fruit in her example. She has nice, dry dough.
No, the folding doesn't necessarily go smoothly (aka, the dough might stick to the surface, and the rolling pin, and you). But it's important and you need to do it. If I can, you can. Just use it as a time to increase your vocabulary.
I used the round cutter to make my scones, although I've never had them round before and have to admit that I prefer them in triangles so I feel like I'm eating a scone instead of a glorified biscuit. I know, it's just me.
The Verdict
Martha says that, "These scones are crisp and golden with a light, flaky interior." She doesn't lie. Wow, these are good. They're not very sweet (there's not even a half cup of sugar in here), but are more along the lines of the traditional scone. The sugar sprinkled on top provides just the touch of sweetening that the tongue needs so don't forget it. If you don't have sanding sugar (I don't), use regular granulated.
The lack of sweet made them less appetizing to Hubby. He's the kind of guy that goes for the brownies and more gooey, heavy sweet stuff. Dudette, on the other hand, thought these were delicious, which surprised me.
What I'd Do Different Next Time
I can't think of a single thing that I could do to improve this.
Candied Orange and Golden Raisin Scones - print this recipe
from Martha Stewart Living, February 2012
1/2 cup diced candied orange peel
1/2 cup golden raisins
1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest
1/4 cup Grand Marnier or other orange-flavored liqueur
2 cups cake flour (not self-rising), sifted
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
1 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons baking powder
Coarse salt
1 cup cold heavy cream
1 large whole egg plus 1 large egg, separated
Fine sanding sugar, for sprinkling
Stir together candied orange peel, raisins, orange zest, and liqueur in a small bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 1 day.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk flours together in a large bowl. Transfer half to a food processor, and add butter. Pulse to cut in butter (the largest pieces should be the size of small peas). Add granulated sugar, baking powder, and 1 teaspoon salt to remaining flour in bowl; whisk to combine. With a pastry blender or your fingertips, work in flour-butter mixture until mixture resembles coarse meal.
Whisk together cream, whole egg, and egg yolk. Make a well in the center of flour mixture, and pour in half of cream mixture. Draw dry ingredients over wet ingredients with a rubber spatula, scraping bottom of bowl to incorporate all dry crumbs. Add remaining cream mixture, and gently mix just until incorporated (do not overwork dough).
Turn out dough onto a lightly floured work surface, and press dough into a 6-by-9-inch rectangle. Sprinkle dried-fruit mixture evenly over dough. With a short side facing you, fold rectangle into thirds, as you would a letter. Rotate dough a quarter-turn clockwise. Roll out dough to a 6-by-9-inch rectangle, folding and rotating once more.
Pat dough into a 1 1/4-inch-thick rectangle with floured hands, and cut out as many rounds as possible with a floured 2-inch round biscuit cutter. Gather scraps, reroll once, and cut out more rounds (you should have a total of 16).
Place scones 2 inches apart on parchment-lined baking sheets. Lightly beat egg white, and brush tops; sprinkle with sanding sugar. Bake until golden brown, about 25 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through. Let cool on sheets. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Subscribe to Martha Stewart Living Magazine.