Cinnamon Scones

Christmas in your kitchen

One of my earliest memories is of standing in the kitchen on a little red stool next to my mom. It was a short, one-step stool, and I still remember the words painted on it: “This little stool is mine, I use it all the time to reach the things I couldn’t and lots of things I shouldn’t.”

She would position me between the stove and the sink, and as she cooked, and tempting smells started to fill the air, she would hand me things to whisk, which I would do clumsily with a fork, and which she would then declare perfect and throw in the pan. She would fill a deep wooden spoon with broth from the soup pot and ask me to taste it, asking “Does it need some Oregano?” She would get out the jar of the spice and tell me to smell it. That was how you could tell if something needed a spice — smell the dish and the spice together, and if they smell good, add it in.

But my favorite job of all in the kitchen was my December sous-chef work. I was the designated snickerdoodle dipper. Snickerdoodles, soft sugar cookies with cinnamon-sugar on their tops, were a staple in our household. Every year, we made batches and batches of them. An army of small, perfectly round cookies covered in cinnamon and sugar.

When my Granny would come visit, we would color the snickerdoodles with green and red sprinkles. It was very important that we try different color combinations. I remember trying to perfectly split the cookie in half — green on the left, red on the right.

But, to me, that soft auburn color of cinnamon and sugar mixed together is the real color of Christmas.

When I was a kid, December meant almost constant baking. And it still does. Nowadays, one of my favorite things to make in December is my cinnamon scones.

I’ve eaten a lot of scones in my life. Cakey scones, way-too-sugary scones, orange scones, dry scones. You name it.

And I have very strong scone opinions and preferences. But I think scones should be flaky — a light pastry dough rather than a heavier, cakey dough.

Sue me.

Enjoy these scones any time of day. They’re absolutely delicious with a cup of coffee, and you can freeze them once they’re baked and eat them all year long.

Flaky Cinnamon Scones

You will need:

1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed

2 teaspoons cinnamon

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup cold butter, plus additional

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup plain greek yogurt

A pastry brush like this one

What to do:

Heat your oven to 425 degrees F.

In a stand mixer mix together the flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Using a cheese grater (the side with larger holes), grate the butter into the mixture and mix well.

In another bowl, mix together the milk and yogurt. Add this to the dry ingredient mixture and stir into a sticky dough.

Lightly flour your counter, and put the dough on the counter, sprinkling it with a little more flour on top of the dough. Knead the dough lightly five or six times. Return the dough to its bowl, cover it, and chill it in the fridge for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, mix together the brown sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl.

On your lightly floured counter top, roll out the chilled dough into a 12x12-inch square. Sprinkle the cinnamon sugar mixture over the dough, making sure to spread it evenly and thickly over the dough. Press it into the dough with your palms. Roll the dough up into a log, making sure to make a tight swirl. You want to end up with a log about 4x12 inches. Flour a sharp knife and cut the log into quarters. Cut each quarter diagonally into two pieces. Then cut each of those diagonally once more. You’ll end up with 16 scones. Be careful to make the roll of the log tight before cutting and reshape it as needed before each cut, otherwise you’ll end up with scones whose layers fall apart.

Put the scones on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Melt 1 Tablespoon of butter and brush it over the tops of the scones with a pastry brush. Bake until the tops are golden, about 20 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

That’s it for this week. Thanks, as always, for reading!

Paying subscribers can tune in next week for the next installment of “Shall we go through?” a series on how food was and should be, complete with a recipe from the inimitable Miss E. Neil herself: Christmas Puddings, which take four hours to make and are worth every second.

Juliana Nicewarner

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