When we started our monthly stint many moons ago I baked fruit loaf, a fresh cream sponge and scones. I must admit to being slightly surprised by the fact that I had loaf and sponge left over, but the scones vanished like the proverbial hot cakes. I figured the scones would sell the slowest, as they were the least “fancy” of any of the things on offer, and the easiest for anyone to make. Practically everyone said the same thing. They were “so much better than the ones you can buy”.
Now I just make the scones, and somehow never seem to have enough.
It isn’t just nostalgia. The scones taste home-made. They taste real. Shop bought ones are flabby and chewy, closer in texture to a bun than a scone. A home-made one has a crusty, crisp top, a soft crumb inside, and practically splits itself. It deserves nothing less than real butter.
Selling those scones yesterday was deeply rewarding. Not for the thanks or the praise we received. What was so satisfying was knowing that in our own little way we were fighting a corner for real food. Making sure that some people at least will know the difference and reject the doughy monstrosities the supermarkets sell. And if as a result anyone is tempted to make their own, the world will be a little bit better as a result.
(By the way, I sell “Sconns”. But if anyone asks for a “Scoan” I forgive them quietly and serve them anyway).
1 comment:
Which is 'genteel' and which is 'oh-really-but-no-no-no'...?
I was brought up saying "scoan", but can't recall whether this was the influence of my Midlands mum or my RP grandma who grimaces agonisingly at any Northern-style "bath" or "path", as well as having her own odd pronunciations of "cyucum---ber" and "piaaaarno" which don't seem to have caught on massively...
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