A quick review of my posts and you could be forgiven for thinking that this is another food blog. And I suppose it is.
A Life Lived Lavishly is about leading a full life, but this is not the same as a life of being full or being chained to a stove. So why so much food talk?
Is it that between cooking and blogging, I don’t get time for much else? It’s more than that.
Is it that all this blogging coincides with the beginning of the family birthday cycle, Matariki and the Winter Solstice? That’s part of it.
To me, time with family and good friends is the foundation of a truly lavish life. Show me the time or culture where sharing food has not been a fundamental of social interaction, and I’ll show you a sad and messed up people.
Preparing food involves working with colour and texture, it gives us permission to play like so many preschoolers enjoying finger-painting. Cooking can satisfy our creative side. But so can many other things. Check out my friend Jennifer’s blog and her 100 day painting project on Small Acts.
And then it’s winter, time to turn inside. The warmth of hearth and stove draw us close. The nurturers among us like to dispense comfort in the form of warm food and drink.
Take Friday afternoon. It was really cold and wet when the kids were coming home from school, so as soon as the baby was finished nursing, I got a batch of cheese scones into the oven and the hot chocolate underway. I’m no domestic goddess. I don’t often bake, but soon my parental leave will be over and I won’t be home waiting for them any more. I wanted to be able to make my children a simple after school treat while I still could, to play at being the mother I wish I could be all the time
But food is not the answer to everything. That Friday also brought some bad news. Nothing I won’t get over, but a disappointment nevertheless. You can’t cure everything with a cheese scone, not even a really good one.
Which brings me around to another of the great pleasures and comforts in life. Music.
Don’t ask me what kind I like. It’s not about genre. It’s something I can’t define. Some music connects with you in ways nothing else does. It’s the reason for sacred music, the reason that boys make girls compilations, the reason that some music makes you laugh, some makes you cry, and some just makes you want to dance. And it’s very, very subjective.
I thought that now and then I might share a link to music that speaks to me. See if it speaks to you too. If you don’t like this one, don’t give up on me. The next one might be quite different.
Friday I caught the tail end of 1998 movie The Governess. Whether or not the film is your cup of tea, I was reminded that the soundtrack included a particularly poignant Schubert Lied, the kind of music that sometimes makes me feel that was born out of my own time. I can’t find the Ofra Haza recording of Ständchen from the movie, but this Shirley Verrett recording from 1965 should see you right.
In case Schubert is not your thing, here’s the recipe for the cheese scones:
Proper Cheese Scones
Not all cheese scones are created equal.
You may have come across one of those tragic specimens so often touted in supermarkets. You will know it when you meet it. It is made on the same bulk dough as the rest of the scones and is therefore oddly sweet tasting, it contains very little butter, too much raising agent (giving it a nasty aftertaste and unpleasant mouth feel), it is dry and the only cheese involved will be on top of the wannabe scone.
That we allow this to go on, that we allow our culinary traditions to be so flagrantly dishonoured, verges on a national scandal. The boys and girls at the EU have the right idea with the TSG scheme.
The Traditional Speciality Guaranteed Logo
This recipe is for a real cheese scone, the kind you can serve your mother-in-law in confidence.
The key to a good cheese scone is generosity. Cheese scones are not meant to be a health food. If you want to strip out the hard cheese and the butter, I strongly suggest, no, I beg you, find something else to bake instead.
- 4c plain (all purpose) flour
- 4 level tsp baking powder
- 1 1/2 tsp salt
- a generous grinding of black pepper
- 1/8 tsp cayenne pepper or hot chili powder, optional
- 1/4 tsp dry mustard powder, optional
- 100g (3 1/2oz) of butter, softened but not melted
- sharp cheddar (or a combination of edam, tasty cheddar and parmesan) about 150 to 200g (5 1/2 to 7 oz) or 3 to 4 cups grated
- enough milk to bring together a soft very moist dough, about 1 1/2 cups
1. Preheat your oven to 220 C or 430 F. Line a baking sheet (cookie tray) with non-stick baking paper.
2. Sift the flour, baking powder, salt, pepper, cayenne and mustard powder into a large mixing bowl. This step is important as it helps to incorporate air into the dough. The higher you hold your sieve the better.
3. Using only your finger tips (you don’t want to overwork the flour), rub the butter into the flour mixture. Keep your hands high and let the mixture fall back into the bowl (more of the air thing).
4. Stir in the cheese(s). Now add enough milk to give you a very soft dough. Bring the dough together using a wooden spoon then working briskly with your hands (again, not overworking the dough). Aim for a dough that is wet as possible, whilst still allowing you to handle it with well floured hands. If your dough is too dry, your scones will be dry too.
5. Tip the dough out onto a well floured bench or board. Pat it into a rectangle about 5cm or 2″ deep. A rolling pin is unnecessary. If you push out the dough too thin, you’re scones won’t rise well. Think a couple of grades better than cheese flavoured hardtack.
6. Cut the dough into square or rectangular scones. They can pretty much be as big or small as you like them. Arrange on the baking tray with a good inch between them. Brush them with milk if you care for a more glazed look, but consider first whether they will last long enough to warrant the additional labour. You can also sprinkle a little more cheese on the tops, but if you’ve put enough cheese into the dough this step is pretty much redundant.
7. Bake near the top of your oven until golden brown on top (about 12 to 20 minutes). They should be slightly crusty with a steaming centre. For maximum enjoyment eat while still hot, split and with butter melting into each half.
Now that’s a cheese scone.