CRANBERRY GINGER SCONES

Cravings, good dreams and the scones to keep December rolling. Holiday on!

Hi friends!

I hope you had a beautiful, restful Thanksgiving. We did not travel, and though I did cook (a ton!), both Andras and I were offline and off work for four whole days. Wow, what a difference it made—for all of us. After two days without any work or email or timelines— we both woke up reporting amazing, playful dreams; for Andras—surfing giant waves in Hawaii; for me—arriving at lavish tables filled to the brim with gorgeous flowers, food, and friends—the best kind of buffet in my opinion.

It got me thinking (again) about how free and creative our minds are when we’re not rushing or stressed— when we’re sleeping deeply, playing, hiking, and spending long, juicy moments with the people we love most.

Tucked into this incubative family time was a new toy—a TV. And while this may seem like a mundane detail in 2023, it’s the first television we’ve had in our house for years and years. Of course, we have small screens/laptops for movies; my kids have access to iPads and a projector for family movie nights and friend hangs. But that’s slightly more of an effort, so there was never this sense of plopping down and putting on a show without much thought.

If I’m honest—I believed raising kids in a home without a TV would make them kinder, smarter, and less spoiled, with fewer distracting influences from ads and poor programming (why do kids’ cartoons all use words like stupid, idiot, and other questionable choices that they will simply repeat?). Most importantly, though— I believed not having a TV in our home would mean we’d be a family of readers. My dream is to sit in a cabin in the woods with my three favorite people and four excellent books and not do anything at all but read side-by-side with bowls of clementines and popcorn and sparkling water—and maybe a little chocolate at the ready for munching (Alas, this is no one else’s dream).

In reality, people who love to read will love reading regardless. Greta and I read oodles each day—despite access to iPads, which mostly go unused. But the TV—at least for now— makes us all feel cozy. We moved our furniture around it in a far more symbiotic way and gathered in the kind of dog piles of my childhood (arms over legs on a couch meant for two or three but holding way more). We all stayed in one room for days—no shirking off to separate bedrooms with a tiny screen.

Each morning of our break, we took a long hike or bike ride, followed by a big meal (bacon, eggs, croissants, or scones) and a pile-up on the couch for a movie marathon. But the best part? When we turned the TV off at night, there was still time to play games, do puzzles, play the piano, and (wait for it….) read!

No more begging to watch (as in that long drawn out “Mama, can I waaaaaaaatch?”) and no more complaining when the show/movie/TV time was over. In four days, we learned how to be in the room with the TV without being tempted, simply because we no longer felt deprived. Even my less enthusiastic reader started reading more this weekend—after the TV came home. Life is wild.

We’ll see how long this lasts, but it’s a remarkable (if cliche) metaphor for life: when we allow ourselves to indulge—eat chocolate when we wish for it, rest when we need it, stop work, and go outside to see the sun, have that glass of wine on date night—the morale gets higher.

Listening to your cravings can have big payoffs*: you feel more satisfied, leading to better moods. Better moods make it easier (and more gratifying) to return to more challenging things—and remain engaged in activities and thinking that inspire us. There is science in all of this (do some reading about the feedback loop). My brain is too tired for science (remember, I’m a TV person now!), so you’ll have to do your own research, but the data is there.

Having a TV was a craving we finally gave into, like my craving for cranberry scones. And when you crave a scone—crumbly, toothsome, and not too sweet (if you know, you know), nothing but a scone will do. You don’t crave a scone and then eat a muffin or a pancake. It just won’t cut it; nope, never. So, I made them—and when I remembered just how easy it is to make scones on any old day, I made them again, and again, and again the following week.

Science (and psychology) also tell us that a considerable portion of cravings are emotional. After nearly ten years without one, my sudden craving for a TV has to do with my kids getting older and wanting as much time with them in the same room before they’re not at home anymore. My craving for cranberry scones is craving for Christmas (a time when I can count on seeing my whole family at once), a longing for my mom (the biggest scone lover in my life and the sweetest, gentlest soul), and for a time in my life when I thought I might open a bakery and be a charmed, happy young shop girl.

It’s a craving for hope and goodness, for happiness and possibility.

These scones are the feeling of happiness and possibility—something many of us need a little extra this year. They are Dickens, The Nutcracker, and The Little Drummer Boy captured in a tidy triangle.

Make them share them, and send them off to your in-laws, your parents, etc., when you come to stay for the weekend; they work for breakfast or brunch or an afternoon treat or snack.

My parents arrived in town Friday, and I’ve got two batches of these chilled in the fridge, ready to be baked for Sunday brunch. The recipe is below, as usual. I hope it lights a little fire of satisfaction in your cravings.

xx

Sarah

(*caveat: in this conversation, we’re not talking about overindulging in overly sugary, salty, or otherwise unhealthy foods that can make you tired and groggy — or about cravings for addictive substances).

This is a reader supported publication—this newsletter depends on the generosity of readers like you! You can upgrade to paid HERE. This keeps expertly tested recipes and thoughtful stories in your inbox, each week. Other ways to support me: Buy my books, or like, comment and share this with others.

CRANBERRY-GINGER SCONES

This winner recipe plays off of these delicious scones, which I make on repeat in the summer, with a few tweaks for winter vibes. Because this time of year is busy, I’ve been making them quickly in a stand mixer rather than by hand so that I can make a few batches at a time—and cutting them in triangles, which feels more festive than squares (with zero waste/rerolling required). Feel free to tweak the fresh ginger or orange zest, and add a dash of bitters if you don’t have oranges at home.

I prefer these scones served with cold, salted butter, making the flavors pop. If you only keep unsalted (sweet cream) butter at home, sprinkle with flaky Maldon or fine sea salt.

Scones:

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour or gluten-free all-purpose flour

½ cup almond flour

1 teaspoon orange zest (or a dash of bitters)

6 tablespoons sugar, plus for sprinkling 

3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

3/4 teaspoon dried ginger

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

6 tablespoons cold butter, cut in cubes

1/2 cup cream, plus as needed

1 cup fresh cranberries, roughly chopped

Topping:

1 large egg, well beaten

2 tablespoons coarse sanding sugar

1. Whisk together the flour, almond flour, orange zest, sugar, baking soda, ginger and salt. Add the butter and toss or mash with a potato masher to break up the butter. Use your fingers to pinch the butter into the flour to coat, and continue until only pea-size pieces remain (or; blend in with a paddle attachment in a stand mixer).

2. Add in the 1/2 cup half and half or cream and gently bring the dough together with a fork (or the paddle attachment). Add in the cranberries and use your fingers (or the paddle attachment) to squeeze the dough to hold together, gradually pulling up any dry bits from the bottom of the bowl and incorporating them into the mass. 

3. Turn out the mixture onto a large sheet of plastic film and use the film to gather and lightly knead into a solid mass, scraping up any remaining floury bits from the bowl as needed. At this point, it may feel that there’s not enough moisture. Keep trying to pull it together using your film to gather and squeeze the dough into a solid unit (the less moisture you add, the more “short” and crumbly and lovely your scones will be). If needed, drizzle with an additional tablespoon of cream to bring it into a compact ball without overworking. Pat into a round roughly 1 1/2 inches thick and return to the freezer to chill for 15 minutes and up to 1 hour.

4. Meanwhile, Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or a baking mat. Turn the dough onto the lined baking sheet and cut into 8 triangular scones with a sharp knife or pastry scraper. Spread them about 2 inches apart. Brush lightly with beaten egg and sprinkle generously with sugar, taking care not to get it on the tray (sugar will burn on the hot tray at this high temp). 

5. Bake until the tops and edges are golden brown, about 25 minutes. Turn off the oven and let the scones remain in the oven for 5 minutes more. Remove from the oven and let cool completely before serving. Serve with salted butter or clotted cream.

Makes 8 scones

Cook’s Note: Be sure to give the scones proper time to chill when noted to keep the butter cold and the dough easy to work with.