I wanted to make morning tea for the team I'm leaving behind at work. I made them orange and sultana scones, and chocolate brownie. If you read the KitchenMaid blog, you'll see that her recipe is based on some legendary scones around town. I'd not heard of them until I read her post.
Then I had dinner with a bunch of gals, most of whom were locals to the cafes where these scones come from, and there was much murmuring around the table about their greatness. I don't like dates at all, though. I figured it'd be a dealbreaker.
Anyhoo, I ventured out on a walk that landed me in Lyall Bay a few days later. Sitting on the beach, watching the morning kick in, drinking a delicious coffee and feeling apprehensive about eating something with dates in. Here's a really silly photo of it:
Reader, I married that scone. Or near as dammit. Go get one. As soon as you can. I figure they must soak the dates, so they bake up like ribbons of date-tasting goodness, without that gritty texture that puts my teeth on edge.
Because, as nicely as my interpretation - I substituted stewed apple for an egg - of Lucy's version of these scones turned out, it wasn't anything like so splendid as what they're knocking out at Queen Sally's.
And the brownie?? I went vegan on it because we were out of eggs, and it needed a fully ripe banana, which suited very well.
In other news, it's Hallowe'en party time. I went to a little shindig after work last night, and snaffled a beautifully cut jack-o-lantern to take home. Sweeney and Harper loved it in their room with a tea light.
We took it to Bela's party this afternoon. It performed very well. Note special, festive horns.