Come here often? If you do, then what you are probably thinking right now is along the lines of, “what’s with this chick and scones? Isn’t this, like, her third post about them? Is she obsessed?”  And if that’s what you think, you should know, you’re just scratching the surface of my OCD about this particular baked good. 

Biting into my first Veselka scone raised the bar for all other scones that I have encountered since. They have a cumbly, flaky texture with the crisp outside that gives with the lightest touch, and each crumb literally melts on your tongue. They pair with coffee like no other pastry I’ve known. It’s hard for me to do them justice, but this scene sort of sums it up.

The day I started commuting on the F train, it became necessary to place a personal ban on stopping at Little Veselka (the adorable satellite version of the restaurant that is right next to my stop) on the way to work, because I know the limits of my own willpower and that even one innocent stop for coffee would become a slippery slope, leading to the inevitable, “Hmm, why don’t any of my pants button?”

In short, I’m on a quest to find the secret and keep trying new recipes to just find a hint as to what makes the Veselka scone unlike any other. Anytime I don’t have ingredients for anything else in the house, or lack the inspiration to figure out something different, I seize the opportunity to test another scone recipe.

This time I decided to experiment with this recipe by Dorie Greenspan, because I had not yet attempted a cream scone, and thought that perhaps that ingredient would be the holy grail I was searching for.  The recipe was easy to follow and included a neat cutting technique that involved shaping the dough into circles and then cutting the circles as you would a pizza. Ms. Greenspan also provides a good primer on what to watch for when integrating butter and flour for optimal flaking (she likens the texture to that of a gravel road – the perfect analogy).

They also baked up beautifully and were delicious (they really were. Top notch.) and flaky as promised. I would have called them my favorite, if not for my obsession. They just didn’t do that melt-in-your-mouth crumble thing that I can’t get off my mind. And so – cue the sad violins – I press on. Having exhausted recipes from all of my trusted sources, I’m thinking that I’ll be needing to bring out the big guns – leaf lard anyone?

Cream Scones
Adapted from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

1 large egg

2/3 cup heavy whipping cream

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 Tbs granulated sugar

1 Tbs baking powder

¼ tsp salt

5 Tbs unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and chilled

¾ cup moist, plump currants (I used dried cherries, because it was all I had in the pantry)

 Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat.

 Stir the egg and cream together.

Whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together in a large bowl. Drop in the butter and, using your fingers, toss to coat the pieces of butter with flour. Quickly, working with your fingertips or a pastry blender, cut and rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is pebbly. Add currants and toss a few times to integrate.

Pour the egg and cream over the dry ingredients and stir with a fork just until the dough, which will be wet and sticky, come together. Don’t overdo it. Still in the bowl, gently knead the dough by hand, or turn it with a rubber spatula 8 to 10 times.

Lightly dust a work surface with flour and turn out the dough. Divide it in half. Working with one piece at a time, pat the dough into a rough circle that’s about 5 inches in diameter, cut it into 6 wedges and place it on the baking sheet. (At this point, the scones can be frozen on the baking sheet, then wrapped airtight. Don’t defrost before baking- just add about 2 minutes to the baking time.)

Bake the scones for 20 to 22 minutes, or until their tops are golden and firmish. Transfer them to a rack and cool for 10 minutes before serving, or wait for them to cool to room temperature.