Sometimes I come to write about a new recipe and I freeze. I’m not sure what to say or what to disclose or what to tell. Sometimes, a lot of the times, I want to tell you everything: my dreams, my drama, my stress, the parking ticket. But I don’t. I hold back most times. Mainly because I’m somewhat of a private person, I realize. I kind of want my struggles to be mine, I want to swallow them and hopefully make something out of them.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s a bad trait, or maybe it’s just a bad trait when you have a blog, which can often times become like another version of a reality television show. I’m not interested in that route.
I mean, it’s taken me years to tell my friends everything that’s going on in my life—it’s not easy. I find it easier to be the listener, the friend who nods and gives advice. I’m much better at that.
I think I’ve struggled with this the entire time I’ve had this blog. What is too much. How much should I share. Also, one thing I would never want to do is use my life with others, my relationships with them and just exploit that for likes, comments, attention. That would feel awful. Some things should be sacred and private and belong to people.
I would be a terrible famous person!
The thing that I want to make above all else when life is a little unkind is a biscuit. A warm biscuit and jam and butter. OMG HELLO! What else could take my worries away? Nothing.
But I’ve made a lot of biscuits on this blog so I decided to turn to the biscuit’s English cousin: the-often-times-dry-ass-scone. It’s true. So many scones are dry. But not these.
They’re not biscuits, they’re scones. They’re supposed to be denser and crispier but they should also be soft and layered on the inside. These are laced with crunchy poppy seeds and zest from blood oranges.
And yes, I know, I’ve used blood oranges WAY too much this season but it’s so hard not to! DAT COLOR!
The glaze is a my favorite part. It makes a scone that isn’t dry, even better.
There’s something about the process of setting out a few ingredients and grating the butter, mixing, throwing out the dough that seems to be a potion for therapy. It gives me time to mull and think and mull and think. Have you tried this? I think you should.