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Proper English Scones

At the center of my Boston neighborhood sits the Loring-Greenough House, a historic mansion. It was the home of a wealthy British naval officer Commodore Joshua Loring. Loring, a Loyalist, followed his good intuitions and abandoned the property in 1777 right before the Revolutionary War broke out. The house was confiscated by colonial forces, served as headquarters for Gen. Nathaniel Greene, and eventually as a hospital for soldiers wounded in the Battle of Bunker Hill. It is local legend that George Washington paid the hospital a visit.

That’s a lot of history for a place that I consider one of my bus stops. Despite how badly things turned out for the British in my neighborhood, I have the courage to admit that when it comes to scones, I am a bit of a Loyalist. America may be about bigger, faster, better, but this unfortunately has resulted in scones that are much, much too large and heavy – colonial one might say.

Proper English Scones

When researching a recipe for this essay I wrote about superior English scones for the Monitor I called my good friend Glenda who has years of professional baking experience in England. She told me the secret is in using self-rising flour and working very quickly and lightly so that the dough doesn’t get too dense.

She was right. I swear my tea kettle whistled a Tory tune when the scones came out of the oven in my Boston kitchen.

Cooking with kale (again and again)

Sturdy fuel is what we need around these parts as the snow drifts get older and wind pants are a necessity for the daily commute. (In Boston, we walk everywhere.) Enter kale, a vegetable that is part spinach, part cabbage, and with enough leafy self-assurance that it could stand up on the kitchen counter by itself if you wanted it to.

But with a good knife and enough heat you can tame an unruly bunch of the green stuff into a stir fry or soup. And all your foodie friends will applaud because you are serving a dish that is fresh and seasonal even in the deep, dark winter.

So, overcoming my usual trepidation of vegetables, I grabbed a bunch of kale from the corner market and sprinted home before I could talk myself out of it. (OK, I did pause to pay.) The other reason I thought I could tackle kale is because I received my very first wok for Christmas this year (thank you, brother). I followed a recipe from one of my favorite foodblogs, 101cookbooks.com, for Asparagus Stir-Fry that includes the option of including kale. I did.

Asparagus and kale stir fry

I invited my friend Rebecca over for lunch and she didn’t even bother to take off her snow pants because the smell of toasted cashews parked her right down at the table. Despite my plans, there were no leftovers, and we were well-fueled for a frosty walk through the arboretum amid the cross-country skiers.

Three Kinds of Fondue (cheese, oil, chocolate)

When everything ’70s came back in style about 15 years ago, the words “lava lamps” and “fondue parties” became part of hipster lingo once again. I understood the ironic fashion of lava lamps, but fondue? The communal dish had never gone out of style in my world. My family has circled round the cheese fondue pot every Christmas Eve since, well, the early 1970s. This year when we descended upon our cousin’s family in Washington, D.C., for Christmas we made sure we loaded up the fondue pots before making the drive from New England (we asked first, of course).

Table set for holiday fondue.

Few of our holiday traditions have persisted year to year, but a bubbling mass of Swiss cheese has held its steady place. If there is a fireplace or a wood stove, the logs get stoked and stirred as we assemble the small plates, the fondue forks, flour the cheese, and fill a large bowl with crusty French bread. We slice oranges to help everything slide down and maybe nibble on a pickle or two.

Thanksgiving side dish: Wild Rice and Fruit Salad

I just got back from a Thanksgiving “warm-up” meal, which was a delicious evening full of good food and good people. There is nothing like a family of friends to be grateful with before giving thanks with the nation. A casual meal of bounty also helps to temper holiday psychosis (admit it, you know what I am talking about).

Originally I said I would bring corn muffins in the shape of ears of corn simply because I somehow acquired a cast iron muffin pan in said shape. But in a burst of culinary confidence I dug out a Martha Stewart “Living” magazine from November 2000 and settled on Wild Rice and Fruit Salad.

Wild Rice and Fruit Salad

“On a day when warm side dishes abound, salads provide a welcome contrast,” purrs the recipe introduction. “This one has many merits: the hearty, nutty flavor of wild rice, the freshness of fruit, and a tart dressing…. It can be served chilled or at room temperature and can even be dressed in advance, since the rice will stand up to a long soak without losing its pleasant chewiness.”

Wild and nutty. Sounds like Thanksgiving to me. Other than having to hunt for wild rice in two different stores and then paying much, much more than I ever imagined I would for rice, it was worth it.

Honeycrisp Apple Crisp

Honeycrisp apples

People in my small world this fall have been talking about Honeycrisp apples. I hadn’t really known they existed until I selected one from a prominent display at Whole Foods to take back to my desk. The Monitor’s art director passing by spotted it and remarked, “Is that a Honeycrisp apple? They are so good!” The following week my cubicle mate held one aloft like a trophy and simply declared, “Honeycrisp!”

Pumpkin Curry Soup

This is one of my annual fall favorites, a creamy pumpkin soup with a bit of a spicy kick. This is also for mushroom lovers. (Sorry, ’shroom haters.) It’s also pretty simple and quick to make before you head out the door to your pumpkin carving party. Or serve it as a first course at your chaotic Thanksgiving gathering when you barely have time to think between timing the turkey and mashing the potatoes.

Pumpkin Curry Soup

I’ve got two pumpkin parties to attend this year. Bostonians may seem passionate about sculpting squash, and perhaps we are, but I think we are really trying to keep very, very busy even as the leaves darken and turn to brilliant gold. Busyness is a thinly disguised attempt to postpone the inevitable: ice and cold. Somehow thrusting bare hands into an orange pumpkin and coming out with a fist full of goop and seeds puts one in the right here and now. Winter can wait.

Homemade tomato sauce (for 1)

Frost has hit Boston. Goodbye warm nights. I’ve put flannel sheets on the bed and pulled in my plants from the deck, which included my tomato plants sporting a few green orbs reluctant to ripen to red. But once I moved them inside things started moving right along and now I have another small crop of homegrown tomatoes!

What better and easy way to enjoy these than to make a simple, fresh tomato sauce for pasta. Beats opening a jar every time.

Ratatouille

This is a wonderful warm and simple dish that will fill your kitchen with a delicious aroma that sighs comfort on a brisk autumn evening.

Ratatouille

Butternut squash on pasta

Last Friday I had the opportunity to meet New York Times food writer Mark Bittman. I was in a group of about a dozen journalists who sat down with the kitchen guru at a natural food expo in Boston.

Butternut squash on pasta

Bittman, besides being a cookbook author of “How To Cook Everything,” has recently published “Food Matters,” which includes a one-month food plan based on the guideline that foodies are advocating right now: eat mostly plants and less in general.

Our chat was informal, but one thing in particular stood out to me: He said that his life really changed when he went into the produce section and bought one of everything he saw so he was forced to learn how to cook and enjoy new dishes.