Normally, I write about the "interesting" things that Justin and I do together -- museums, theater, festivals, and movies. In all honesty, however, it is the little rituals that we repeat week in and week out that I cherish the most. Of these, one of the things that stand out the most is our quiet Sunday morning breakfasts together. You see, Justin is usually responsible for these meals, and the novelty of having my man prepare scrumptious meals for me never grows old. This week, however, I wanted to do something nice for him, to repay him for all the nice things he's done for me lately, so I decided to take over the responsibility for preparing breakfast by baking some scones.
My enjoyment of scones dates back to my college days, when I fell in love with the chocolate chip variety sold at the campus coffee shop after an unfortunate insect-in-my-croissant incident soured me on my previous go-to breakfast item. The chocolate chip scones were, however, but one in a rotating menu of scones that were often poorly labeled, and I ended up with a lot of unpalatable raisin and blueberry scones during that era. Later, I discovered the delights of the maple oat scones at Starbucks, but it seemed like I could never sync up my sporadic Starbucks visits with the presence of those tasty treats. All I ever seemed to find there were strawberry or blueberry scones. Fie on fruit in my baked goods!
It was clearly time to take matters into my own hands, and I started trolling the blogosphere for viable recipes. The one I ended up settling on, however, came from my own bookshelf and a copy of Baking Illustrated. Since the staff at Cook's Illustrated (who published the book), actively scour the internet sending cease and desist letters to bloggers who print their recipes, I won't be sharing it here, but I actually think they're better than the ones at Starbucks. The oatmeal gets a quick toast in the oven before joining the dough, which gives everything a very nice toasted grain flavor.
We ended up sharing the scones over a nice cup of tea, and it was relaxing to sleep in a little longer without having to worry about leaving time to prepare breakfast. Not that I appreciate his cooking any less, but it felt good to be the one taking care of him for a change. After all, variety is the spice of life...