Buttermilk Honey Scones with Rose-Strawberry Jam

I’m finding more beauty in the crumbs, the coffee stains that ring a mug. I found an old textbook about gender and saw the pages, dog-eared and speckled in burns and blood, from a paper cut and ashes dusted aimlessly from my cigarette.

I used to read under grapevines and now I sleep twelve hours some days.

I used to speak Spanish in a timid accent and now I don’t speak it at all.

I used to bite my nails, but I stopped that a long time ago.

I read about 6 sisters who changed the world and I used to think I could, too. I told my mother I was never going to speak to her again, and now I watch the news with her, nursing coffees that grow cold and conversations that became keep memories of her mother alive and warm. She opened a box in a room she turned into a cat infirmary yesterday morning. Inside were thirty-seven napkins, hand-stitched and embroidered in yarn, lace, and scraps of satin.  How delicate they were; carefully folded and not very well made. They did the job and we moved on to other topics, like how my mother isn’t very good at tennis and I’m not very good at forgiving. If my brother was having a boy or a girl. How my mother loves the smell of rosewater and hates how many ants she found in the windowsill in the kitchen.

How many years its been since I last celebrated my birthday with her.

I live for those moments, those mornings. The innocence and the redemption. The fog hands dully until about nine in the morning. It burns off, I go to work. She sits with her cats, with Milo and her Labrador retriever. She watches crime documentaries and lights candles in the heat. She went shopping the other morning and brought home some roses. Strawberries were on sale and she had never seen honeycomb before. So I made her these scones as a thank you for taking me back in. So close to home, so different than who I was. I used to read under grapevines and they’re still there. Giving second chances and strangling the chicken wire fence that surrounds the house.

Buttermilk Honey Scones with Rose-Strawberry Jam

Ingredients for the Scones

• 2/3 cup buttermilk
• 1 egg
• 1 TB vanilla extract
• ¼ cup honey
• 3 cup flour
• ½ sugar
• 1 TB baking powder
• ½ TB cornstarch
• ½ ts salt
• 8 TB butter, cubed and cold
• 3 TB honeycomb, cut into cubes for topping

Directions for Scones

1. Preheat oven to 450*F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper
2. Whisk together buttermilk, egg, vanilla, and honey, set aside
3. Sift together all dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and transfer mixture into your food processor
4. Add butter, pulse to combine until fat is the size of peas
5. With motor running, add liquid through feeding tube
6. Turn dough onto a floured work surface and pat into a round
7. Cut into 8 triangles, and pat edges to be clean
8. Place on baking sheet and bake for 13-18 minutes or until puffed and golden brown
9. Top with honeycom

Ingredients for Rose-Strawberry Jam

• ½ pint of strawberries, hulled and halved
• 1 cup sugar
• Juice of 2 lemons
• 2 TB fruit pectin
• 2 TB rose water
• Zest of one lemo

Directions for Rose-Strawberry Jam

1. In a medium-sized saucepan, combine strawberries, sugar, and juice. Heat on medium.
2. Stir occasionally (I like to use a wooden spoon) so that the mixture does not burn, but you want enough heat that the juices bleed from the berries and the sugar and lemon juice condense slightly
3. Allow to boil for a good 2 or 3 minutes
4. Add your fruit pectin and stir vigorously for a few seconds to combine
5. Resume your boil for another minute
6. Take off heat, stir in zest and rose water
7. Jam will continue to thicken as it cools, when slightly warm to the touch, you can put in your jar. This recipe makes one pint of jam and is not a proper canning technique, but a quick jam recipe
8. Store in fridge, use often and plentifully

Summer's Cake: Peach and Ricotta Gateau Breton

The nights are slightly colder. I’ve adapted to the thick blanket of humidity at night. Milo at my feet and the air conditioner running. I keep a robe on a bedside chair, in case I ever get too cold. I wouldn’t dream of turning the air down, though. There’s no ceiling fan in this room, the ceilings barely hit six feet. So I stretch on the bed and shudder. I grab for the puppy in the middle of the night, check to see if he is still breathing, put his head on a pillow next to mine. I dream of Heathrow airport and look up how to how to say “damselfly” in Spanish. I stayed awake until one in the morning, reading cookbooks and scribbling notes. And at three in the morning, I woke up to a moth hitting my window in a manic apache dance, leaving small floury dust on the mesh window screen. A Catherine, disheveled from her cocoon.  It’s the pubescent hour of stretching and yawning, the transition between yesterday and today and I loathe it now, the beginning of summer ending. Too fast it’s already blurry and I find myself beating my shoulder against every window, begging to be left in. The only trace of me is dust, powder, particulate and leftover.

So I baked a cake to celebrate the season. An elegy, a eulogy. A begging for forgiveness for taking it for granted, being home and safe and wrapped up in bed, waiting for the heat to break.

Peach and Ricotta Gateau Breton

Ingredients

• 1 ½ cup AP flour
• 2 TB cornstarch
• ¾ cup brown sugar
• pinch of salt
• ½ cup butter, softened
• 1/3 cup ricotta
• 6 egg yolks, plus 1 for egg wash
• 1 TB pure vanilla extract
• 1 TB orange juice
• 1 TB orange zest
• 1 large peach, slice

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375*F
2. Prepare an 8-inch springform pan with butter and parchment paper, set aside
3. In a bowl of a stand mixer, sift all dry ingredients together
4. Add butter and ricotta and beat on medium-low with the paddle attachment
5. With mixer running, add yolks, one at a time (do not add subsequent yolk until previous is completely incorporated)
6. Add vanilla and orange juice and zest
7. Turn mixer off, use a rubber spatula to hand fold a couple times to ensure all ingredients are fully incorporated
8. Arrange peach slices on your parchment-lined pan
9. Gently pour batter over peaches in pan
10. Batter is very sticky, so sprinkle a little flour onto the top (or with floured hands) to help press dough into pan and along the edges
11. Bake for 15 minutes at 375*F, then reduce oven to 350*F and bake for an additional 30 minutes or until golden brown on top
12. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely before removing from pan
13. Turn out onto a plate so peach-side is facing up
14. Serve cooled or warmed up a bit. Can keep for up to two days.

Lemon-Almond Cake with Toasted Coconut

I drove for the first time all week on Friday. Stopped at the gas station, bought a pack of Camels. More out of habit than craving. More to mindlessly let the cherry eat up the filter until the tips of my fingers were burnt a gentle blush of pink. The window rolled down when it was raining and the hair on my knuckle matted, I thought of nothing else that morning. I kept my windows down and my sunglasses off, my ears rattling with the whistle of the valley air. I go 80 on the turns and 65 on the back roads. I stopped once to see a fox lying dead on the side of the road. Orange as a hyacinth, its coat matted in enameled blood and the kind of thistles my cousin calls “pricklers”.

Small black feet that used to dance on uneven creek rock. I knew this fox. And while I don’t think orange has ever been a color for royalty, he was beautiful in a way I was not.

I swerved thinking of something my mother had said that morning, distracted by my own Prodigal anger at her. How casually she’s forgotten so much about me. How she whispers certain words in grocery stores. How she leaves out the best parts of a story if it’s at her expense. People have a way of forgetting and I remember a lot more moving back than I thought I would.

I drove for the first time all week, saw a fox on the side of the road, bought a pack of cigarettes and sat outside for a while. Thought about where I want to live, and how I consolidate those dreams when I am still paying off two degrees and a year of law school I never pulled the trigger to just get it over with and finish.  I went inside and baked a cake when it was 90 degrees in the kitchen. I ran out of containers, so I keep my almond meal in an old Maxwell House coffee canister for right now. I used some sun-warmed lemons and made it simple. Because, above all else, I can’t forget that’s the reason I moved back home. Because people have a way of forgetting.

Lemon-Almond Cake with Toasted Coconut

Ingredients for Cake:

• 2 cup AP flour
• 2/3 cup almond meal (fine, my preferred is Bob’s Red Meal)
• 1 ¼ teaspoon baking soda
• pinch of salt
• 1 ½ cup white sugar
• 1 cup crème fraiche (can substitute sour cream or ricotta here as well)
• ½ cup olive oil
• 1 TB vanilla extract
• 2 teaspoon almond extract
• Juice from one lemon
• Zest from two lemons
• 4 tablespoons butter, extremely softened
• 2 eggs + 1 yolk, room temperature
• 1 TB white vinega

Ingredients for buttercream:

• ½ cup vegetable shortening, softened
• 2 tb butter, softened
• ½ TB vanilla extract
• 1 ½ cup confectioner’s sugar
• 3 TB whole mil

Directions for Cake:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F
2. Prepare an 8-inch springform pan with butter and parchment paper
3. Into the bowl or your stand mixer (or, if you prefer, you can do this by hand), sift together flour, almond meal, baking soda, and salt. Repeat twice more (this step isn’t necessarily, but I really believe in getting the almond meal as light and aerated as possible here)
4. In a separate measuring cup, vigorously whisk together crème fraiche, oil, extracts, lemon, butter, eggs, and vinegar. It will be clumpy even when fully mixed
5. Create a well in your dry ingredients with a wooden spoon and, while slowly mixing by hand, pour in your wet ingredients in a lumpy, gentle stream
6. Now, with the paddle attachment, beat batter on medium-high for about 20-30 seconds until thin and pale yellow ribbons form
7. Pour batter into your prepared pan
8. Bake for 45-55 minutes or until top is golden brown and edges are separating from the side of the pan
9. Allow to cool completely before adding buttercream and coconu

Directions for buttercream:

1. Vigorously whisk fats, extract, and confectioner’s sugar together until you have a dry paste
2. Add as much milk and whisk until it is thin, but not runny
3. Set aside. This will be a very small amount to just do a crumb coat on the cake for the coconut to stick t

Ingredients and Directions for coconut:

In a large, dry skillet, heat on medium for about a minute to get warm. Add 1 ½ - 2 cups of sweetened, finely cut coconut to the pan and continuously stir (allowing to sit for a few seconds between stirs to warm up) until nutty and beginning to brown on the edges. Remove from heat and dump into a bowl to cool

To Assemble

Place cake on plate and, using an angled spatula or butter knife, cover cake in buttercream. This will be a thin, thin layer and will resemble a crumb coat or “naked cake”. Now, grab a handful of coconut and lightly press into the cake. Repeat until fully covered. Grate a little more lemon zest over cake and maybe a little confectioner’s sugar because why not. Eat immediately. Ideal with hot coffee and can keep for up to three days (maybe even four or five if you are careful and it is airtight)

Cherry and Beer Poptarts

When I was 7, I got my first pair of glasses. My brother cried because he said I didn’t look the same. We haven’t spoken in three years.

When I was 17, I moved out. Went to college, rode the train. When I was 17, I had my first boyfriend; the string of inconsistencies that have allowed me to know who I am through a process of elimination. When I was 17, I got lost in downtown Pittsburgh, throwing up in alleyways and walking back to campus. The next day, I got my lip pierced. I think to show others I could be tough, even if I couldn’t grow facial hair or hold my liquor.

At 18, I stayed in Italy. I worked at a gas station to pay for my ticket. My mom kept the apron for when she cleans the house. I didn’t keep in touch with those I lived with abroad. I didn’t see a point. They saw me as a child who shaved his head and smoked short cigarettes. I think I spent that time convincing myself I didn’t need anyone. I moved back to Pennsylvania December 16th. I started dating my boyfriend on January 1.

In May, he went to China and I got my first tattoo. I didn’t need him for anything. A small act of rebellion, small needles and antiseptic smell mixed with the blood-rust under the cottonball.

I tanned before moving to California, still wore a lot of black, still smoked a lot of cigarettes. I drank juice and coffee; I ate candy during law school finals.

Got more tattoos, lost a job.

Moved to Texas, put to roses on my arm.

Moved back to California, fell in and out of love. Fell in and out of a understanding of what I wanted, but I know I wanted out.

This time I got the word “eleven” tattooed on my arm for my dad. It was his baseball number. They retired it when he graduated from South Ripley County, Indiana.

And last week I got a nose ring. I’m 24 and still changing things. Still speaking through layers of performance, latent cues and failed attempts at seeming aloof. That’s the beauty of being so young still—I have grown accustomed to being someone else and somehow all the iterations of that person are all still me.

And today I was someone who created photo backgrounds, who propped the board up with an old coffee mug from my week in Belgium. I was someone who made poptarts, handpies, whatever you want to call it—like I used to when I was six and the world was blurry and my skin unblemished.

Cherry and Beer Poptarts

Ingredients for the crust:

• 8 TB unsalted butter, very cold
• 6 TB shortening, very cold
• 2 cup AP flour
• 1 cup almond meal
• ¼ cup white sugar
• 1 TB pure vanilla extract
• ¼ to ½ cup ice water

Ingredients for the filling:

• 2 cups cherries, pitted and halved
• ½ cup brown sugar, dark
• ¼ cup beer, any variety (can sub red wine if you’d like)
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 TB lemon or orange zest
• Juice from half a lemon or ¼ of an orange
• A slurry of cornstarch (1 TB cornstarch whisked in 1 TB water) – do not make until cherries are reduced by hal

Directions for crust:

1. In a food processor, pulse together butter, shortening, flour, almond meal, and white sugar until fats are pea-sized
2. Add vanilla extract and pulse once or twice
3. With motor running, pour ¼ cup of water into feeding tube in a gradual stream until a dough forms. You may need an additional couple teaspoons of ice water until dough clumps and begins to pull away from edges of the bowl
4. Turn out onto a floured work surface and divide into two discs
5. Wrap both discs in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes to res

Directions for filling:

1. In a medium sauce pan, combine cherries, sugar, beer, salt, and lemon, stir with a spoon to ensure liquid is covering everything
2. On medium heat, allow for cherries to release their juices and for sugar to dissolve
3. Continue heating until juices simmer and reduce by half (during this time, whisk together your slurry)
4. Reduce heat to low and vigorously whisk in the slurry
5. Mixture will begin to thicken and continue thickening as it cool

Assembly:

1. Preheat your oven to 400*F
2. Prepare two baking sheets with parchment paper
3. Take one disc of dough out of the fridge and roll out onto a heavily-floured work surface into a rough rectangle that is about 12” by 10” (this will vary slightly, so don’t stress it too much)
4. Using a sharp knife, cut your dough into rectangles. For a guide, I actually used a 3”x4” index card, but you can measure with a ruler if you so choose
5. With each rectangle, carefully place onto your prepared baking sheets. You should have 9 rectangles total (if using the very scientific Index Card Method)
6. Now, re-flour your board and roll out your second disc of dough
7. Measure and cut your rectangles out again, but do not immediately place on your sheets
8. At this point, you will have to do three things in succession: make an egg wash to brush edges of the dough, spoon in some of your cherry filling onto each rectangle (I’d say about 2 TB per pie, but this is based on preference mostly), and place second top dough layer on top
9. Do this for each pie
10. Crimp the edges of each pie with a fork, pressing slightly to seal
11. Brush tops of pies with remaining egg wash and sprinkle with a little sugar
12. Using a paring knife, cut a couple small nicks in the top crust to vent dough
13. Bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown on the edges and tops
14. Allow to cool completely before adding your topping (my glaze was ½ cup confectioner’s sugar, 4 TB half and half, and 1 TB vanilla extract, then topped with almond slices and sprinkles)
15. Can be kept for up to 3 days in an airtight container, but I like them served warm.

An Updated Strawberry Shortcake

So suddenly the old feelings come. Always when my mind stops wandering. Always when the chances come and I lose the gull to roll the dice. I’m more fearful now than I used to be, so suddenly when those feelings come. A well, an aquifer, a rain gutter. A response to gravity. A need to flow.

I remain lazy this summer, sleeping past my alarm. Hitting snooze so often, the sound harmonizes with the early birds. I fell asleep on the porch swing one morning, my coffee grew cold and so did I. I got seasick in this landlocked state. I washed my face with cold water when I woke up and found a spider in the sink.

I mowed the lawn while everyone is away. Two blisters and a callous because I don’t work often. I take care of nine cats while I’m here. We keep the gasoline in a small barn that used to house chickens, then ducks, then a wild pheasant that broke its leg. I don’t think much of those days now; the grapevine strangled what was left of the coop.

I think I used all my potential on healing these last few months. Wasted, but perhaps not squandered. Exhausted, but perhaps not exploited. I think I have a bit farther to go. I sit out and lay in the sun most days on my lunch break, trying to escape the Freon cold of air conditioner window units. I think back to a year ago, when I made my parents dessert in a house that had an outdoor kitchen. I think back to how every promise was broken within a year. I think of who I am now, if I’ve really grown at all. And I bake to combat the Freon cold of the air conditioner, too.

Victoria Sponge Strawberry Shortcake

An update on a classic with another classic. This recipe is adapted from Nigella Lawson's in How to be a Domestic Goddess. Makes one, 2-layered cake out of two 8-inch square pans.

Ingredients for the Cakes:

• 1 ¼ cup AP flour
• ½ cup almond meal
• 4 TB cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• ¼ cup milk
• Zest of one orange
• 2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon almond extract
• 1 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 5 eggs

Ingredients for the Cream:

• 1 cup heavy whipping cream
• ½ cup confectioner’s sugar
• 1 TB pure vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt
• ½ cup mascarpone cheese

Directions for Cakes:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F, prepare two 8x8 square cake pans with parchment paper and butter
2. Sift together the flour, almond meal, and baking powder four times, until very airy and light. Set aside
3. In a measuring cup, whisk together milk, extracts, and zest
4. In a stand mixer, fitted with a paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy
5. Add eggs, one at a time. Turn off and scrape with a rubber spatula when all eggs are in mixture. It will look slightly lumpy and curdled, but it is just fine
6. With your rubber spatula (not with the stand mixer), lightly fold in flour mixture, a half-cup or so at a time
7. When all flour is incorporated, your mixture will be pretty thick. Thin it out with your milk mixture and beat for fifteen seconds with the stand mixer on medium-high to aerate slightly
8. Split batter in half between the two prepared pans
9. Put both pans on a half sheet and bake for 22-25 minutes, or until golden brown and sides have pulled away from the pan
10. Allow to cool

Directions for Cream:

1. While cakes are baking and cooling, work on your cream
2. In the bowl of your stand mixer, now fitted with the whisk attachment, whip your cream until soft peaks form
3. Add your vanilla and continue beating on medium
4. Slowly add your confectioner’s sugar and your pinch of salt
5. Turn mixer off
6. Gently fold in your mascarpone cheese. The whipped cream will deflate slightly, but the cheese will thicken the mixture to a nice, heavy consistency
7. Set aside until ready to assemble cakes

To assemble: Lay one layer on your work surface and dump your cream mixture into the center of the cake. Using an offset spatula and working from the center, spread your mixture toward the edges, being as rustic as you so choose. Add about 5-10 chopped strawberries on top of this and a squeeze of orange. Sit your second cake layer on top of this. Sift confectioner’s sugar on this layer and sprinkle almond slices as a finishing touch. Serve warm or allow to refrigerate for a couple hours for flavors to mellow. Best within two days.