Scones on Demand?

I called Richard this morning to ask if he wanted to go to the Farmer’s Market in Minneapolis.  Guess what? Richard had just popped some scones in the oven. He could make it in an hour.

Everyone should have a friend to go to the Farmer’s Market with who arrives with freshly made scones. (Just lucky ‘ole me has such a friend) What could be better than a fresh, home made scone?

Thanks to Richard, (who has an encyclopedic food knowledge of all things edible, from the far corners of the earth and some regions close to heaven) I had scones delivered today to my door.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Fresh blueberry-dried apricot-walnut with lemon zest scones were on the menu when I jumped in the car.  “Here,” Richard said with a sparkle and wicked grin. “Try one of these.”  I peeked in the paper bag and there were these sweetly baked wedges of scones. Did I hesitate? As Richard described the ingredients did I worry about calories? No. I slipped these sweeties between my lips for the first bite.  Eureka!  Taste the walnuts and blueberries with that hint of fresh lemon. Zowie!  What’s that texture? It’s light and sweet? It’s half and half.  After inhaling, while savoring all the flavors, Richard said, “Have another one, they are small.”  Oh my, did I resist? Sure for five seconds. “Oh, what the heck, I said, they are small.” Down the hatch!

In the few minutes it takes us to arrive at the Farmer’s Market for more food, two perfectly made and hand delivered scones have disappeared.  (Repent later.) Richard ate two. It’s a conspiracy of Scones.

While strolling in the market, I noticed that the pickling cucumbers were in and some boxes of raspberries still caught my eye.  When I spotted some good-sized beets, I bought them with the idea in mind of practicing scalding the skins off and having those nice slices for a cold beet salad.  (Love my vegetables.)  It’s hard for me to understand all the people who turn up their noses when faced with vegetables.  They all have some sad story to tell about vegetable trauma. (Sigh.)

It is particularly disconcerting to me to watch a recent commercial on television about a child who won’t eat green vegetables. The solution to this problem is not anything to do with cooking. No. It’s a synthetically produced product that is drinkable.  (I don’t get it.)

Why not plant a garden with your child? What a good idea!  Eat what you grow is a fun way to spend time with your family. Or you can visit a local garden like this one. The “Dream of Wild Health” is a local Native American organic garden project whose idea became real through Richard’s efforts.  The idea for the garden came to him in a dream.  Native American families and children have a place to learn about native plants and foods while helping to grow them. Through their participation they learn respect for the earth, respect for each other and their food traditions.  It’s made a big difference.  Everyone is welcome.

http://www.misa.umn.edu/Dream_of_Wild_Health.html

Eat locally. you’ll like it.

About kunstkitchen

Visual artist and writer hunting words, languages, visions, and insight in my kitchen - connecting Art (Kunst) and culture and slow food cooking. Credits: Do not own a microwave oven and never have. Do not own a food processor. Chopped veggies in a Zen monastery for a weekend. (Seriously) Classically trained artist. Paint and draw with traditional materials. Live in the Northland where it's six months of winter. Appreciate the little things in life. Sharing food and art experiences and the lessons that my talented and generous friends have given me.
This entry was posted in Restaurants and Cafes, Savory Pie and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s