The power of scones

When was the last time you sunk your bare hands (clean of course) into a bowl of food? I am not advocating bad manners, but rather a sensory cooking experience. It means no gloves or mixing spoons; just your bare hands rubbing, kneading, squishing, and patting.  

I had the pleasure earlier this year to host a group of young people in my home. I took the opportunity to run a cooking session with them. I determined this session was going to be sensory and social. Scones it would be – the old-fashioned way, where you rub butter into the flour with your fingertips and get your whole hands dirty handling the wet dough.

I love that cooking involves ours senses, as well as our memory. The smells in the kitchen were amazing. From the crushing and chopping of fresh herbs to the waft from the oven during baking. They say you eat with your eyes first.  While the finished product was not perfect, it did help that they looked edible. And of course, the best part is tasting what you cook. Although, I would argue the best part is sharing with others.

Scones are reasonably quick to make, quick to bake, quick to cleanup after, and they can be served at any temperature. Warm is the best. That’s how our little group ate them. We enjoyed savory scones (with herbs and cheese), fruit scones (some blueberry, some sultana), some plain and a batch of pumpkin scones. Served with fresh whipped cream, and homemade strawberry and rosella jams, and washed down with a hot cup of tea. We even practiced lifting our cups with our pinkies elevated.

My mum was the queen of scone baking. She did not need a recipe. If guests arrived unannounced, before the kettle had boiled she would have a batch in the oven. My Mum’s scones were so good the local school asked her to cook for their popular fundraising Devonshire Tea. One year she made twenty five dozen!

Did you know food memories are more powerful and more sensory than many other memories? Psychologists say this is because these are shaped by all our senses. They are also shaped by the company, the situation and the emotions involved. I agree with psychologist Susan Whitbourne who says, ‘Food memories feel so nostalgic because there’s all this context of when you were preparing or eating this food, so the food becomes almost symbolic of other meaning.’

The chatter over tea was celebratory. and a definitely a little nostalgic. Some of us remembered our mother’s and grandmother’s cooking from another time and another kitchen table. Some asked ‘are mine the best?’ Who knew that scone baking could be such a competitive sport? Who knew the power of scones?