The last half of April has been difficult, tough and extremely long.
Thanks to binge watching season 1- 7 of Game of Thrones, I went through my data like it was my last day on earth and then was left with nothing for the remainder of April.
May took forever to get here so that come the 1st I would have my data reloaded. Having no data is no fun at all, I didn’t see the point of cooking all the nice things, because I wouldn’t be able to blog anything.
So I kept my parents fed on old favourites and take away and yes they did complain, they complained a lot.
After my data was reloaded I decided I needed something blog worthy to celebrate and maybe to spoil the folks with their zero ability to appreciate my ability to feed them take away.
I came across this recipe in Anna Langbein’s cookbook, I didn’t really want to make it, in the beginning because it required me to cut the scones in triangles, I have never done something like that before. All my scones are roundly shaped. Never the less, I attempted it.
It started off smooth sailing and then it went downhill around the middle.
As I was rubbing the butter into the flour, I needed to wash my hands so that I could get the buttermilk out of the fridge. When I went to the sink, there was no water, I checked the mains, the valves to make sure it wasn’t something that went wrong at our house. Then I ventured outside to see the neighbour’s grass floating pass me. The water pipe under there garden had burst and it was just my luck. The neighbour is an old aunty who really really rubs me up the wrong way. Whenever she can’t get her way with me, she starts to cry and complain she is all alone or when I catch her spying in the yard she informs me my husband told her she could…. Apparently I am married… news to me.
Yes I am sure whoever is reading this, most likely thinks I am evil, but there are neighbours and then there are those old aunties that are neighbours who can tell you everything and you are like, I live in the same place as you and I don’t even know these things.
I still had to make the scones, because I had already weighed out everything and the oven was preheating, so I decided to wash my hands with the cold water from the kettle, only to pour it over my hands and curse in every possible language to discover my mother had boiled the kettle. I had to pour my mother’s favourite sparkling bottled watered to cool my hands down, thank goodness I didn’t pour the entire kettle … it will teach me next time to look… I guess.
Then after I poured the buttermilk into the mixture and the mixture didn’t want to come together with the knife I had to give it a little nudge with my hands, I managed to get dough all over my fingers and with no water to wash it off with, I left a trail of sticky hand prints on the cake flour container, fridge door, oven door and a lot of kitchen cabinets. Who would have thought that I would have been thrown for a curve ball without having access to water to wash my hands.
Only after the scones were devoured by everyone did the pipes creak as an indication that the water was finally back on. When I went to spy the old aunty from next door was racking the sand in her front garden, when she saw me she waved and indicated I should come over…. Nope not happening, I know that old trick in the book. If I go over, somehow I will be the one that be doing the racking. I just backed away from the window as I never saw anything.
What a day and it was supposed to be a relaxing public holiday. So much for relaxing.
My mother couldn’t stop looking at these scones as they cooled, and she couldn’t wait to tuck into one either. Her verdict she loved it.
My mum gave my dad half the scone with his evening tea as we all know how picky he is when he sees big things on a plate but after a while he screamed to my mother that she can give him the other half as well.
I asked if he was feeling okay and he said yes, but these scones were really nice and you know me, I had to make him repeat it a couple of times so that I could make sure I heard him properly. After the 4th time, he told me to shut up.
- Zest of 1 orange.
- 3 x cups self raising flour, sifted.
- ¼ x cup castor sugar.
- 1 x tsp baking powder.
- 75g x chilled butter, grated.
- 2 x cups dates, pitted and chopped.
- 1 ¾ x cup buttermilk.
- In a bowl, mix the zest, self raising flour and castor sugar together.
- Mix in the baking powder.
- Using your fingers, rub the grated butter into the flour, till it resembles bread crumbs.
- Mix in the dates.
- Add the buttermilk and using a knife bring the mixture together.
- Place on a greased baking tray and using yours hands, flatted and shape the dough into a round disc.
- Using a shape knife cut the dough into wedges and carefully leave a space between each wedge to allow the dough to expand.
- Pop into a preheated oven.
- Bake at 180 degrees for 15 – 20 minutes or until the tops are nice and golden brown.
- Remove from the oven and allow to cook for about 5 minutes.
- Generously dust the tops with icing sugar.