Good afternoon, friends. How are you?

Right now I’m…

Feeling… sluggish and bored. Zero energy. Therefore, I’m…

Drinking… English Breakfast tea with a little sugar and…

Forcing myself… to write this post, just to get something out. Must. Produce. Words. (Already I’m beginning to feel a little better.)

Mustering up the energy to… tackle some kitchen work. Seven-plus gallons of milk are culturing on the stovetop and will need to be turned into a cheddar in short order. It’s time to make yet another menu for the next week, and I have a whole bunch of small kitchen tasks I need to get to, like slicing a half ham, freezing some rotting bananas, mixing up some yummies for the week’s lunches, making a white sauce for supper. Once I jump in, it’ll be fine. It’s the period before — the dread transition — that kicks my butt.

Wishing… it would just rain already. The air is thick, the clouds low and heavy. It makes everything feel ponderous and blah.

Looking forward to… watching another episode of Julia with my husband tonight. We’ve both been enjoying it, me more than him (no surprise there), though the random Julia quips do make him laugh out loud with surprising frequency.

Reading… Here We Are, a memoir by Aarti Namdev Shahani about her family’s immigration story. It’s not a hard read, but it’s taking me forever to finish. Maybe I’m just not in a reading mood? Or maybe I’m just delaying finishing it because then I’ll have to find something new to read and, like I said: I dread transition.

Trying to remember… all four of Bryan Stevenson’s points in the talk he gave at my son’s graduation. That’s right: Bryan Stevenson, the Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy (READ IT) and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, was the commencement speaker, whoop-whoop! (I joked to my son that none of us were coming to see him walk — we just wanted to hear Bryan.) To make change, Stevenson said, we must have 1) proximity to the people/issues/problems that we wish to help/impact/solve, and 2) hope, which is just another way of saying “being faithful,” but the other two points? I can’t remember! (And yes, I’ve devoted quite a bit of shower-time to racking my brains.) 

Eating… my second iced maple pecan cookie of the day, mmm. I need to make another batch — I have some ideas for improvements — so maybe I’ll do that this afternoon? Also, I’ve been thinking about maple oat scones an awful lot lately. Might need to scratch that itch, too.

Babying… the roof of my mouth. I went on a baguette-making kick this week and my mouth took quite a beating from the (marvelously) crusty loaves. After eating yet another piece of fresh baguette slathered with butter, I announced to my husband that I didn’t want to eat anything else for the rest of my life. Just, fresh baguettes and butter. (And yet, I still want scones.)

Mulling over… the rising food prices. On my latest shopping trip, I spent twenty-five percent more than I thought I would. Is that an accurate representation of the rising costs or did I just overspend?

Ordering… another pair of Brooks running shoes, more rennet (soon) from New England Cheesemaking, and a second pair of crocs for my restaurant kitchen-worker daughter. She got one pair to keep at work and then she decided she liked them so much that she ordered another pair for at home. (She orders through our account and then pays us back.) 

Listening… to this podcast on intuitive eating and perimenopause — again. Mind-blowing new concept (start at the 46-minute mark): just as pre-adolescent girls often put on extra weight before they hit puberty, women often gain extra weight when they are perimenopausal because — GET THIS — the extra weight is the body’s way of slowing the drop in estrogen and lessening the side effects of peri! The extra weight is not “a spare tire,” as it’s often called, but rather a freaking LIFE preserver. A shifting body shape isn’t a sign that a woman is letting herself go; rather, it’s normal and healthy. That this surprises me so much illustrates just how much I’ve absorbed our culture’s skewed perceptions of health and aging without even knowing it. I knew weight gain was common, and a thickening middle was maybe inevitable, but I had no idea that this was actually the body’s way of protecting us. I still don’t want it to happen, of course, but this new perspective helps me to be a little more gentle with myself — or something. I’m still trying to figure it out.

Glancing obsessively… out the window to see if Emma is showing signs of labor. (Not yet!)

Gearing up… to plant the garden. Even though I’m still missing winter (I’m secretly fantasizing about moving to Canada), I have to face it: summer is coming. So this morning I went to the greenhouse and picked up a bunch of starts — tomatoes, peppers, herbs, as well as some flowers. 

Getting up… to go make the cheese. Bye!

This same time, years previous: currently, when they’re “nothing” to eat, the quotidian (5.13.19), the quotidian (5.14.18), driving home the point, on getting a teen out of bed in the morning, crock pot pulled venison, maseca cornbread.

Who’s in the mood for chocolate scones? Me! 

Actually, no, I lie. After multiple trial bakes of the same recipe, I’m a little sconed-out . . . but hopefully you’re not!  

I got my inspiration for this recipe from my aunt. When we stayed at her house last month, she made chocolate scones for breakfast.

The scone from my aunt. (Hers had dried cherries, too.)

She’d dry mised the ingredients prior to our arrival and then assembled and baked them while we chatted. When I asked after her recipe, she said it was the one in her cookbook but with a few changes which she then spelled out. I tried the recipe with her adaptations, but mine didn’t turn out anything like the scones she’d made for us — but that didn’t stop me!

Four bakes later (the photos are a mash-up from the various bakes), I landed on a pretty basic cream scone recipe, but with loads of chocolate chunks and chips, and then a ganache that gets layered in, like so:

first rectangle: spread with ganache and cut

stacked

smooshed back down into a rectangle again

spread with ganache

cut and stacked (you get the idea)

the layering complete: shaped into a circle and cut into wedges

It looks complicated, but it’s not. Just, a little messy — but the ganache is surprisingly satisfying to work with. Don’t be scared.

This wasn’t the first time I saw this ganache-layered effect. One of the bakers at Magpie had done something similar, but if I remember correctly, she used a single layer of ganache, and it wasn’t pressed down so, in the heat of the oven, the top layer often slid off. These scones don’t have this problem and there’s a lot more chocolate marbling, which I love. 

I think there’s still room for improvement (a bit of buckwheat would be a nice addition, yes?), but when I sent some over to my mom with the kids, she emailed back, “What worries you about these scones? They’re lovely.” So perhaps I’m just getting silly obsessive? I am sconed out, after all. 

Anyway. I’ve decided they’re plenty good enough, but if you find a way to make them even better, do tell.

Double Chocolate Scones

For some of the variations, I subbed in a little whole wheat or rye, and I think buckwheat might be good here, too. For the ganache, use semi sweet chips — not melting wafers, which don’t pack the necessary chocolate punch. And while I made one batch with mini chips in the dough, I like it better with larger chunks of chocolate, even bigger than regular sized chips.

for the dough:
2 cups all-purpose flour
¼ cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1 stick butter
¾ heavy cream
½-¾ cup chocolate, chunks and/or chips

for the ganache: ½ cup of chocolate chips with 2 tablespoons cream
for the garnish: pearl (or sanding) sugar and a little more cream

to make the scone dough:
Mix together the dry ingredients. Cut in the butter, making sure to leave some chunks. Gently stir in the cream. Toss in the ¾ cup of chocolate chips. The mix should still be a little dry (the ganache will add some moisture) — take care not to overmix. 

to make the ganache:
In a small bowl, heat the ½ cup of chocolate chips and 2 tablespoons of cream in the microwave for 30-60 seconds, just until melted. Stir well.

to assemble:
Dump the dough onto a work surface and shape into a rectangle. Spread a third of the ganache on two-thirds of the rectangle. Cut into thirds and stack, with the UN-ganashed portion ending up on top. 

Gently press down the dough into a rectangle and repeat the process.

Aaaand repeat one more time, using up the last third of the ganache. (I’m writing this recipe with three ganashings, but sometimes I did it with two. Do what works for you.)This time, shape the dough into a circle instead of a rectangle and cut into 8 wedges.

Place the wedges on a parchment-lined baking sheet, brush the tops with cream, and sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 400 degrees for 20-30 minutes or until golden brown and the middle feels firm when pressed.

This same time, years previous: currently, the quotidian (5.11.20), Thursday snippets, prism glasses, the quotidian (5.11.15), immersion, happy weekending, one more thing, lemony spinach and rice salad with fresh dill and feta.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Heavy haul.

Mmmmmm.

Trimmed.

Wedding chili, still.

Seasonal eating.

My younger son is on a mushroom-growing (and jerky-making) bender.

Sweetness.

A hard day’s evidence.

He finally got his pony!

The graduate (wearing her old gown that’s two sizes too small for him).

And then she snapped one of us.

This same time, years previous: where in the world, our sweet Francie, settling in, the quotidian (5.8.17), Moroccan carrot and chickpea salad, rhubarb crunch vanilla ice cream, how it is, black bean and sweet potato chili, the family reunion of 2012.