It used to be too hard for me to look back on a year and see how it changed me. It was weird, to think that the pebble that skipped between one spot and another could create either too many ripples or not enough. In California, between ages 20 and 24, I grew up; but it was in a fractious way that I still have a limp from nowadays. I'm learning from that, though.
But now I look back at a year and see where I am and it is both humbling and terrifying and satisfying all in one. A year ago, I was living at home and Nolan was living at his parents', too, and we would see each other once in a while and drink and fall asleep. A year ago, I was sequestered to my old childhood bedroom while I saved up and figured out what I wanted out of life and a relationship and if we were buying a house or moving somewhere new again. A year ago, there was a lot more silence in my life and a lot less to do during the day. A year ago, everything was different and uncomfortable and I wasn't ready to move forward.
Now--now we have a house and the dogs and the chickens and the land. I have room to stretch in bed and still be cuddled by the person I am going to marry. My hair is grown out and curled and I tend to wear old flannel shirts and there's usually dirt under my nails. We garden now, picking from our little bed the lettuce and radishes and onions we'll have for dinner. Nolan's dad planted them when we first moved in. We throw our scraps to the chickens and eat the rest. Just another thing we take care of, just another responsibility we have for our land.
We have only the smallest recollection of How It Used to Be. And we savor the mornings with cups of coffee and the nights with a beer and everything in between is working towards a goal now--whether that goal is painting or fencing or just pulling out the sofa bed and watching movies for three days. It's all there to make us happy; to make others happy, too. The only part of us that still exists from a year ago is that Nolan still smokes the same brand of cigarettes and I still have a flair for dramatics. Everything else is different.
A year can really change a person or two.
And each year it seems like we take a small vacation in the summer for something with food. Last year, we spent a couple days in Charleston, WV to tour the JQ Dickinson Salt Works. This year, we are heading to Vermont on Friday to go see Vermont Creamery, so i thought what better way to begin celebrating than with a goat cheese scone. And to commemorate our growth in a year, to look at how a year can change two people, I added radishes from our garden. Spicy and plump and terribly beautiful, they added an element to the scones that naturally flavored them beyond the usual salt and pepper of my upbringing.
Dill, Goat Cheese, and Radish Scones
This recipe is a riff on last week's post for my shortcake scone. This is a savory version, so either you can really use as a base and just swap out the flavorings with whatever your heart desires.
- 2 cup AP flour
- 1 TB baking powder
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup cold butter, cubed
- 1 egg + 1 yolk (for egg wash)
- 1/3 cup heavy cream
- 1/4 cup goat cheese
- 1/2 TB dill, chopped
- 3 large radishes, rough and finely chopped + 1 or 2 sliced for topping
- Preheat oven to 400*F and prepare a sheet pan with a Silpat or parchment paper
- In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt
- With clean hands, roll the butter into the flour with your fingers, creating flakes. Continue to crumble butter until fat is the size of peas
- In a measuring cup, whisk together your egg, cream, and cheese
- Create a well in your dry ingredients and with a wooden spoon slowly mix while you pour your wet ingredients in
- Continue to mix until fully incorporated and a dough comes together
- Add dill and chopped radishes and fold to incorporate into dough
- Pat out onto a floured work surface and shape into a rectangle
- Cut into 9 pieces and transfer onto your prepared sheet
- Make an egg wash (1 yolk + 1 TB water) and brush onto your scones
- Top each with a radish slice
- Bake for 25 minutes or until golden