The Allure of a Cottage...

From across the sea, a land I have never visited beckons to me. Why have I always dreamed of England as if it were a place of myths and enchantment? Perhaps because, to me, it is. The stories of King Arthur that I devoured as a child are rooted there. The windswept moors of the Brontes are there. The manor houses peopled by Jane Austen's unforgettable characters are there. And always, indisputably romanticized in my mind, tiny cottages with lovely gardens are strewn across the countryside, awaiting my arrival for a long, lazy fortnight. Nevermind that no-one does anything by the "fortnight" in my real world. Never mind that I have no imminent plans to travel to Great Britain. A cottage awaits me. Of that I am sure.

Have I been making scones more frequently of late because the Anglo-mood is upon me once again? Or have I induced the interest in All-Things-English by consuming so much tea and so many scones? The latest batch, laced with apples and cinnamon, was consumed just before I piled my bedside table with a few modern novels set in an English cottage. The two I intend to read first are Thornyhold and Rose Cottage by Mary Stewart. These are old favorites of mine, and I am looking forward to visiting old friends as I read them again!

This afternoon, I watched Emma Thompson's movie version of Sense and Sensibility as I did my ironing. I've seen it many times, but still cried my way through a favorite emotional scene. I'll pull out a few more Jane Austen adaptations as the month goes on. I have to admit, February and March are the months I am most ready to head for "anywhere but here." By this time, late in winter, I am ready to fly thousands of miles to find spring. I'm ready pack my bags and leave a note on the counter saying, "Call me when the first flower blooms and I'll come home."

Why do I imagine that in England it is always late spring, or the soft early days of summer, and flowers always blooming? Why do I imagine that rain there does not ruin plans, but rather softens the hard edges of one's life? I know that I have "picked and chosen" the things I love about England and made of them an imaginary place in which I would love to spend idyllic days. Never mind what my intellect tells me. In my heart, I know that tucked inside a cheerful tangle of rosevines beyond a garden wall, a cottage awaits me.

photos by Aisling, 2006 and 2007

Banana Oat Scones...

My original recipe for scones came from a book called The Joy of Snacks. I don't remember the book and may have to track it down sometime to refresh my memory. I think it was borrowed from the library. I have modified the recipe so much over time, that it is quite different than the original (which contains egg and raisins, and does not use bananas.)

Ingredients:

(scant) 2 cups all purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups old fashioned rolled oats

1/2 cup non-hydrogenated (no trans-fats) margarine, melted
1/3 cup soy milk (plain or vanilla)

1 ripe mashed banana

Directions:

Combine dry ingredients; set aside. Blend mashed banana, melted margarine, and soy milk until fairly smooth. Add in dry ingredients and mix just until moistened. Shape dough to form ball; pat out on lightly flours surface to form 8 inch circle. Cut into 12 wedges (scones); bake on oiled baking sheet at 425 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes or until light golden brown. Serve warm.

Note: I go "skimpy" on the flour at the start and reserve some to add at the end if needed. Not all banana's are created equal! I will (carefully) add more if the dough is too sticky to shape and cut.

photo by Aisling, February 19, 2007