Honey & Lemon Oat Scones . . .

Walking past the pristine and pricey merchandise, their aroma was evident well before they were actually in view. Scenting the air with the warmth of toasted nuts, melting chocolate, fresh berries, and citrus--they could only be scones. Casually displayed and generously portioned, Britt's cafeteria produced dozens of them day in and day out. Office workers and attorneys, parking attendants and bankers alike beat a weekday-morning path to procure them. Intent and determined, Britt's customers bore the expression of pilgrims on a crusade--they weren't fooling around. Once having obtained the object of affection, they'd scurry back out of the big glass doors, each one securely clutching a small paper bag, an expression of modest accomplishment on every face.

That's what I thought of this morning as I was trying to remember when I'd tasted my very first scone. I was in my twenties, and working for a publishing company in downtown Detroit. Britt's was a small restaurant of sorts, tucked oddly into the far corner of an upscale office supply store. It was a quick walk from my desk to the elevator, down eight floors, out the door of the historic Penobscot Building, then right around the corner.

Britt's scones were not necessarily traditional. Made from dough that was neither rolled nor cut, they were obviously prepared quickly, like drop biscuits, thus their irregular shape and often varying size. But, oh, were they good. Floury and soft within, crumbly and tender crisp on the outside. My favorite was the strawberry scone, plump with rosy chunks of fresh ripe berries throughout. If memory serves correctly, they also offered currant, chocolate chip, blueberry, and lemon poppy-seed. I must have tried them all.

No one was pleased when Britt's, after several years in that location, closed its doors for good. It was a shame in every way, but at least that unique little place left a firm and fond impression.

And so began my love affair with scones . . .

These particular scones don't fall into the fluffy and tender category. They're more along the lines of substantial and chewy. Definitely on the healthier end of the vast scone spectrum. (Recipe attribution info is included further down, under Recipe Full Disclosure!)

Honey & Lemon Oat Scones

(For a printable copy of this recipe, click here)

2 cups All Purpose flour (bleached or unbleached is fine)
1 and 1/2 cups rolled oats (I used quick)
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, very cold, and cut into small chunks
2 tsp. fresh lemon zest

1 large egg, beaten
1/4 cup honey (I used wildflower honey)
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 Tbsp. melted unsalted butter
2 tsp. sanding, or granulated, sugar

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt with a whisk. Add in the lemon zest and stir it in with a fork.

Using a pastry blender, cut in the butter chunks well, until there are no large pieces left.

In a small bowl, whisk together the beaten egg, honey, buttermilk, lemon juice, and vanilla.

Make a well in the center of flour mixture. Pour the liquid mixture into the well, and mix together with a spoon just enough to evenly moisten the dry ingredients and form a soft dough.

With floured hands, gather the dough into a clump and dump it onto a lightly floured surface. Pat the dough into a circle roughly 9" in circumference.

Using a sharp knife or a pizza wheel, cut the pieces into 12 triangles, like you would a pie.

Place each piece about an inch apart on the lined cookie sheet. Melt the 1 Tbsp. of butter, and brush some of that on the top of each piece. Sprinkle a pinch of sanding sugar, or granulated sugar, on top of each buttered piece of dough.

Bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until just lightly browned on the top and bottom. They bake quickly, so check on them early.

Serve warm or cold, with honey, of course!

Recipe full disclosure! I adapted this recipe from this link, at The Herb Companion.com.
It called for lemon verbena leaves, which I have never even seen let alone used, so I left those out. It also called for the use of more lemon zest and juice than I thought expedient. Yogurt was included but I had none on hand so I decided to substitute buttermilk. I added in the part about brushing melted butter and sprinkling sugar on the top of the scones before baking. I rewrote the directions, too.


P. S. If you liked this honey & lemon oat scone recipe, you might also like the recipes in these past posts:

Apple Oat Scones

Cream Scones with Sweet Dried Cherries
Strawberry Scones

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Jane's Sweets Out-takes from 2009: Memorable Baking Wipe Outs, Wash Outs, and Overall Monstrosities

Ahh, the joy of baking mishaps, monstrosities, and plain unmitigated disasters. In honor of the new year, I figured it might be time for the first ever round-up of Jane's Sweets & Baking Journal's greatest and most gruesome out-takes. Afterall, there are just so many to choose from. Here's a ghastly sampling.

Let's start with the plum upside-down cake that looked better after it was catapulted into the garbage can. Remember that one?

Or how about the decorated three-layer cake that melted like a candle burning at both ends?

That one's seared into my memory for all time. (I'm certain you feel the same way.)

Lucky for you, there were a few baked horrors that I was charitable enough to keep under wraps . . . among them the purple scone batter from Hell. That one was exorcised from the household before it could fulfill its hideous fate.

Positively sinister. Those scones never saw the light of day. As Martha Stewart would say, it's a good thing.

And here we have a pan of recalcitrant mini-cornbread loaves that just wouldn't get with the program.

I know it's sad, but you simply can't help a cornbread loaf that doesn't want to help itself.

Despite its deceptively normal appearance, this coy imposter, pictured below, masqueraded as a classic yellow layer cake with caramel frosting. In reality, however, it was a cake so rubbery and unpalatable, so devoid of genuine flavor and appeal, partially enrobed in a frosting so disgustingly, outrageously sweet, it could only be safely served to humans if accompanied by a gallon jug of fresh insulin.

God save us.

Oh, and here we have the loaf of bread that wishes it had been born an envelope.

Talk about an abomination of nature.

* * * * *
Okay, I think that's enough for now. You alright? Want me to call someone for you?

Just go lie down for a while. I'll check in on you tomorrow.

Herb & Olive Oil Focaccia . . . One Bowl, No Mixer, No Kneading, No Kidding!

Do you, by chance, happen to have a kid in high school who's on a sports team? Like maybe a swimmer? Well, I do. My older son, Charlie, is on his high school swim team, and any evening prior to a day with a scheduled swim meet, he always requests that we have pasta of some sort for dinner. Yep, he's carbo loading, in a big way. In swim-team lingo, he's a "sprinter" and, to a sprinter, being able to produce an explosive burst of energy on demand is the holy grail. Here's the formula, just in case I didn't make that perfectly clear:

Pasta = Energy = Kid Swims like a Shark

A life-long discriminating eater, Charlie regularly emits a deep, loud, profoundly grateful "YES!!" when he walks in the door after swim practice and realizes that I am, once again, standing at the stove whipping up yet another noodle-laden meal. His affirmation is particularly joyous if I'm in the midst of making something akin to fettucine alfredo with chicken, one of his favorites. Now, if there's one thing a mom likes to see now and then, it's an overt display of just such sincere gratitude. Really warms the apron strings.

There are no less than three swim meets this week so no doubt the pasta will be flyin'. Today's herb and olive oil focaccia is going to accompany tonight's supper. It's an incredibly uncomplicated and tasty yeast bread that's fairly easy to customize. It smelled fabulous while it was baking. Anyone can make this dough. No mixer, along with no significant skill, is required. Trust me--I oughta know.

This recipe is from Nick Malgieri's 2005 book, A Baker's Tour. He calls it Ligurian Focaccia from Nove Ligure (or, Focaccia alla Novese). Sounds fancy, but it's not. Fancy no, delicious yes. I decided to augment it with a little fresh thyme, rosemary, and parsley; that was my only real deviation from the original recipe. I reworded the instructions slightly here and there, and I used less salt than the recipe calls for on the top of the dough before baking. This focaccia is definitely best the first day you make it; it starts to dry out quickly by the next day.


Herb & Olive Oil Focaccia

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Prepare a 10" x 15" jelly roll pan by coating it liberally with olive oil.

For the dough:
2 tsp. salt
4 cups All Purpose flour (I used unbleached)
5 Tbsp. olive oil
2 tsp. active dry yeast
1 and 2/3 cups warm water (about 110 degrees)
1 tsp. finely chopped fresh parsley
1 pinch finely chopped fresh thyme
1 small sprig finely chopped fresh rosemary

For finishing:
3 Tbsp. olive oil
2 tsp. kosher salt (I only used 1 tsp. and I think that was plenty)
1 tsp. finely chopped fresh parsley
1 very small pinch finely chopped fresh thyme
1 very small sprig finely chopped fresh rosemary

To prepare the dough, in a large bowl, stir the salt into the flour and rub in the oil with your hands, making sure it is evenly absorbed by the flour. Throw the chopped herbs in and toss them around with a fork. (Note from Jane: It seems weird to think of rubbing oil into flour with your hands, but the flour absorbs it incredibly quickly and the flour still feels quite dry. Interesting!)

In a separate small container, whisk the yeast into the water, then use a large rubber spatula to stir the yeast mixture into the flour mixture. Stir vigorously to make an evenly moistened dough that does not need to be very smooth.

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rise at room temperature until it has doubled in bulk. (Note from Jane: I placed the dough bowl in a rather enclosed spot on my counter that's somewhat warmer than typical room temperature; I don't have much luck with yeast dough if I just leave it anywhere to rise!)

Once the dough has risen, scrape it onto the prepared pan and spread it evenly with the palms of your hands. (If the dough resists and springs back, set the pan aside for 5 minutes so the dough can relax a bit, then try again.)

Cover the dough on the pan with oiled plastic wrap and let it rise in the pan until it is puffy, for approximately 30 minutes.

About 15 minutes before you are ready to bake the focaccia, set a rack in the lowest level of your oven, and preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Use your index finger to dimple the dough at 1 and 1/2" intervals.

Drizzle the dough all over with the olive oil (it will puddle in the little indentations) and sprinkle on the herbs and salt (Note from Jane: Be as judicious with the amount of salt as you please; Malgieri indicates to use 2 tsp. on top but I used only 1 tsp. kosher salt and even that seemed a little excessive once the bread was done).

Bake the focaccia until it is deep golden in color, about 30 minutes. Check the bottom by lifting a corner up carefully with a spatula before removing it from the oven, to make sure the bottom is well-colored as well.

Slide the focaccia off of the pan and onto a rack to cool. Or, cut it immediately and serve warm. Cut into 2" to 3" squares.



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Welcoming in 2010 with Upside-Down Apple Buttermilk Muffins . . .

It's a charming little muffin--quiet, unimposing, and . . . well. . . upside-down. Why upside-down? Not because that's what the recipe indicated, no. Not because I dropped the pan (no, I didn't drop the pan). Maybe because it didn't seem like any fun to start off the nascent decade by following the rules?

Wish I could take credit for such an innovative approach to the new year, but the fact is I took my eyes off the road and my hands off the wheel, so to speak, as I was filling the muffin pans. Those muffin cups were too full, and you know what that means. Let's just say these muffins look a lot cuter with their bottoms in the air, rather than their tops, and leave it at that.

In any case, these tender apple buttermilk muffins do taste good and are well worth making. The recipe is one I adapted from the book Morning Food by Margaret S. Fox. These can be whipped together by hand, using just a couple of bowls, well in time for breakfast. Besides apples and buttermilk, these feature oatmeal, too. They're not at all heavy, nor too sweet. Just a perky little muffin to help ease you into a new work week, a new year, a new decade.

Apple Buttermilk Muffins

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here.)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Spray a 12-cup muffin pan liberally with baking spray, or use paper liners.

1 cup rolled oats (I used quick oats)
1 cup buttermilk (I used low-fat)
3/4 cup All-Purpose flour (I used unbleached)
1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 pinch of cinnamon (or more if you prefer)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup granulated sugar
6 Tbsp. melted butter, unsalted
3/4 cup of small diced, peeled apple pieces (use any apple that's very firm and sweet-tart)

In a large bowl, stir together the oats and buttermilk. Set aside for 20 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.

Into the large bowl of oats and buttermilk, add the beaten eggs, melted butter, and sugar. Stir well.


Add in the flour mixture and stir just to combine. The batter will be lumpy. Fold in the apple pieces, taking care not to overmix.

Fill the muffin cups no more than two-thirds full (do as I say, not as I did; that is, unless you want to turn your muffins upside-down as well!).

Bake at 400 degrees for about 14 minutes, until golden, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean.

Let the muffins cool in the pan on a rack for a few minutes, then take them out and let them cool more fully on the rack. If you like, flip them over and sprinkle the bottoms with a little cinnamon sugar while they're still quite warm.

Recipe full disclosure! This recipe was adapted from the recipe for Oatmeal-Raisin Muffins appearing on pg. 19 of Morning Food, by Margaret S. Fox and John B. Bear (Ten Speed Press, 2006)

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Lentil Soup with Fresh Parsley & Garlic Biscuits

There's a little middle eastern restaurant near our house that has the finest and most fragrant lentil soup. My kids just adore it and so does my husband. This afternoon, as I was pondering what to make for supper, I decided to give lentil soup a try. The recipe that I used, torn from the Detroit Free Press, had been stuck on our refrigerator door with a magnet several months ago. I've probably glanced at that tattered piece of newsprint about a thousand times. Finally, who knows why, the spirit moved me to buy some orange lentils and cook up a big pot of the stuff. I'm pleased to report that the recipe is a keeper. It got a giant seal of approval from my guys. When my husband commented that he thought it tasted better than the restaurant's formula, I knew I'd be making it again.

The only liberties I took with this extremely simple recipe were to increase it, to be more generous with the spices (more cumin, salt, and black pepper), and to include a few squeezes of lemon juice. I also used an immersion blender instead of putting the soup into a regular blender (way, way easier--if you don't have one and you like to make soup, you need one!).

Of course, a soup like this, tasty though it is, does not an entire meal make. Okay then, what to serve with it? Well, I thought some savory biscuits might be just the ticket, and indeed they were. I used a recipe for a reliably fluffy, tender, buttermilk biscuit from the book Baking at Home with the Culinary Institute of America, but instead of leaving the biscuits plain I decided to add in some finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley along with a little fresh minced garlic. Perfect!

These were good biscuits, and they went along with the lentil soup like love and marriage. I placed a bowl of seedless red grapes on the table, alongside the biscuit basket, and we were good to go.

You'll like this combo!

Lentil Soup
(For a printable version of this recipe, along with the biscuit recipe below, click here!)

3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 x-large clove of garlic, peeled and chopped
1 medium yellow onion, coarsley chopped
3 cups orange lentils, rinsed
9 cups water or vegetable broth (I used water)
3 and 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
2 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. fresh ground black pepper
fresh lemon juice to taste

In a large stock pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Saute the garlic for 1 minute, then add in the chopped onion and and saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the lentils and stir to coat them in the oil. Add in the water or stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium, cover the pot and cook, removing any foam that rises to the top, until the lentils are tender, about 30 to 40 minutes (mine took barely 30 minutes). Remove the pot from the heat and set it aside to cool for 15 minutes.

Once slightly cooled, puree the soup until almost smooth using an immersion blender (if you have just a regular blender, use that, pouring the unpureed soup into it in batches, then pouring the pureed soup into its own separate pot). Add in the cumin, salt, pepper, and lemon juice to taste. Bring the soup to a boil over medium high heat, stirring frequently. Reduce the heat to low, and simmer until ready to serve.

If you like, top each bowl of soup with a hefty pinch of chopped parsley and a wedge of lemon on the side.


Buttermilk Biscuits with Fresh Parsley & Garlic

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

3 cups of All Purpose flour, plus extra for dusting (I used bleached)
2 and 1/2 Tbsp. granulated sugar
1 and 1/2 Tbsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 medium garlic clove, peeled and finely minced
1 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
8 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter, diced
2/3 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup milk, plus more for brushing

Blend together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. In a separate small bowl, mix together the parsley and garlic, then add that into the combined dry ingredients. Cut in the butter (I used a pastry blender) until the mixture resembles pea-sized pieces.


Add in the buttermilk and milk, mixing just to combine.


On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a thickness of 1 inch. Fold the rolled dough in half, turn it, roll it, and repeat this 3 or 4 times for a final thickness of 1 inch.

Cut the dough with a biscuit cutter. (Reroll the extra dough scraps only once if you can help it; more than that may lead to toughened biscuits.)

Place the dough pieces onto the covered baking sheet. With a pastry brush, lightly brush milk on the top of each one.

Bake for approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Let the biscuits cool on wire racks, or serve them warm.



Recipe full disclosure! This soup recipe came from the food section of the Detroit Free Press. I believe it was published in 2009, but I have no idea which month or day. I could not find the exact recipe on their website in order to confirm the date. At the bottom of the recipe that I have it says, "Adapted from Lila Amen, Dearborn. Tested by Susan M. Selaskey for the Free Press Test Kitchen."

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