Doing your scone
Scones without tears. Plus: the difference between melting moments and yo-yos.
10am Saturday morning and it’s so dark and gloomy we need all the lights on. I hate having the lights on in the daytime; it feels like failure. The detritrus of the week is piled up at high tide points and the house smells like wet dog (I’m already mad enough at the dog for waking me up at midnight, 3am and 5.45am). This is not the way to start the weekend. I make a potent coffee and lie on the sofa for 20 minutes watching a potentially brain-rotting Korean dating show. Surprisingly, this is enough to recharge my solar-depleted battery and give me a burst of inspiration: we can have scones for lunch!
Many food writers tell stories about learning to make scones at their apple-cheeked grandmother’s flour-dusted knee. Not me. I learned how to make scones at my first office job at Parliament. It was the late 90s and I was one of an army of support staff - mostly women, most of them at least twice, or maybe three times my age - charged with looking after MPs’ secretarial requirements. Let’s just say it was a learning experience, leavened by some good people and a newfangled invention called the internet. One of my loveliest colleagues (who worked for a complete monster) also found the time to contribute recipes to the newly created email newsletter that went around the building every morning. I lost touch with her after I left, but I think of her every time I make one of her recipes, especially her scones.

Julia’s Scones
This is Julia’s basic recipe, with which she provided the following secrets for success:
Don’t grease or flour the oven tray - it just needs to be VERY hot. Turn the oven on and put the tray in to heat up as soon as you think that scones might be a good idea.
As a rough guide, allow 2 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp sugar, 10g butter and 125ml (1/2 cup) liquid for every 1 cup of flour.
If you’re adding dates, cut them in half with scissors first. This pre-empts the excruciating and potentially expensive risk of crunching on a date stone.
There is no truth to the old wives’ tale that eating hot scones gives you indigestion.
For about 9 large scones:
3 cups plain flour
2 Tbsp baking powder
pinch of salt
30g (2 Tbsp butter)
1 Tbsp sugar
1 egg
1 1/2 cups liquid – milk (any kind is fine), water and plain yoghurt in equal (ish) quantities
Optional extras: 1 1/2 cups grated cheese, 1 cup chopped dates
Heat the oven to 220C and put the oven tray in to heat up (don’t grease or flour it).
Sift the dry ingredients into a bowl, then rub in the butter until it’s well mixed in. Stir through the ‘extras’, if using. Mix the liquids together in a jug, then pour into the dry ingredients.
Mix VERY lightly with a knife until a soft dough forms. Tip out onto a cool floured bench top and pat into a flat shape about 2.5cm high. Cut into squares and put immediately on the hot oven tray that has been waiting in the oven for this moment. Leave about a thumb space between them so they have room to nearly join up while cooking.
Bake for 10-12 minutes until golden, crusty and well risen. Leave on the tray to cool briefly, then eat with lashings of butter. There are never any leftover in our house, but they can be frozen.
Pumpkin, Feta and Onion Scones
If you’ve already mastered ordinary scones, here’s a variation using ubiquitous winter pumpkin. You could easily use leftover roasted pumpkin (or similar winter vegetables) if roasting it from scratch feels like a bridge too far. Or, you can cook the pumpkin in advance and set aside (in the fridge, if for more than a couple of hours) until ready to use.
300g peeled Crown pumpkin, diced
1 medium red onion, peeled and finely sliced
1 tsp whole cumin seeds
1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
3 cups plain flour
2 Tbsp baking powder
pinch of salt
30g (2 Tbsp butter)
1 Tbsp sugar
1 egg
1 1/2 cups liquid – milk (any kind is fine), water and plain yoghurt in equal (ish) quantities
75g feta, crumbled
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
Heat the oven to 220C. Line an oven tray with baking paper.
Put the pumpkin, onion and cumin seeds in a large bowl. Drizzle over the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Toss well, then spread over the lined tray. Roast for 25 minutes, until starting to brown. Remove from the tray (lift up the paper in one go) and return the empty tray to the oven. Set the pumpkin aside to cool while you prepare the scone dough.
Sift the dry ingredients into a bowl, then rub in the butter. Stir through the cooled pumpkin, the feta, and most of the grated cheese. Mix the liquids together in a jug, then pour into the dry ingredients.
Mix VERY lightly with a knife until a soft dough forms. Tip out onto a cool floured bench top and pat into a flat shape about 2.5cm high. Cut into squares and put immediately on the hot oven tray. Leave about a thumb space between them so they have room to nearly join up while cooking. Scatter the remaining grated cheese on top.
Bake for 15-20 minutes until golden, crusty and well risen. Leave on the tray to cool briefly, then eat with abandon (and extra cheese, if it is a very gloomy day).
Good Things
Many Melting Moments
My obsession with melting moments continues. Among other things, I’ve learned that the difference between melting moments and yo-yos is custard powder (yes for yo-yos, no for melting moments). I’ve made two batches so far, experimenting with using a mix of custard powder and cornflour, and adding more butter to a standard recipe (thank you Carrie Wainwright!). More trials to come…
My Royal Nemesis
Help, I am trapped in another seemingly endless K-romcom that zips between modern Seoul and the Joseon dynasty of 300 years ago. There are just enough genuinely comic or touching moments in My Royal Nemesis to mitigate the lingering looks, laboured portents and panto villains, but occasionally I do wonder if I could be splitting the atom instead of watching it. Only five (of 14!) hour-plus episodes to go…
Oh FFS!
Wellington On A Plate kicks off next weekend, including the beloved burger contest. There’s only one burger I’m really interested in this year and it’s actually not a burger at all, but a recreation of the infamous Field & Green fish finger sandwich. At least, that’s what it looks like to me… and when asked about it chef Laura Greenfield didn’t deny the similarities. All we need is for her to start making ice cream again - maybe when she pops up as guest chef at Capitol later this year? - and life will be complete.
Thank you for reading and if you click on the heart below your scones will always be lofty and light.
Have a great week,
Lucy







I absolutely love yo-yos, but like any sandwich biscuits it always feels sad when you end up with half as many as you “should” have.
Made your scones yesterday! That were really great, Lucy! Highly recommend. And for me, yo-yos every time...