Tuesday 11 June 2013

Scone of Stone

Since I have arrived, I haven't been able to get the gas oven to light, so asked the Maintenance Manager for help.  He suggested I keep the knob down for longer, so a day or so later, tried this, but still couldn't get it to light.  It was only on the second visit by the patient manager, that we realised that I was expecting to see the flames at the back of the oven.  In America the flames are hidden, they are kept where we would keep our spare baking trays, in the drawer underneath.

Having cleared up this misunderstanding, I decided it would be a good idea to do some baking.  I could rustle up some scones.  How hard can that be?

It was a bit annoying that I was using a UK recipe off the internet, and the measuring jugs here seemed to be in cups, and it was a bit difficult trying to work out what two ounces of butter looked like from memory.  I didn't have any baking powder, but there was baking soda in the cupboard, so used that instead.

Things weren't looking good when I could only cut four scone shapes from the dough.  The photo on the internet promised a tempting plateful.

Bearing in mind we are in the middle of a forest and fire is always a major concern, I was really worried when the smoke alarm went off, and had to spend a couple of minutes jumping around, flapping a tea towel across it shouting, 'It's OK, I'm cooking' (hoping to avoid a convoy from the Californian Fire Department appearing up the hill).  I had a fleeting memory of how my children when small, on smelling the smoke of a pillow smoldering in front of the fire, said they didn't think anything was wrong, they just thought I was cooking again.

On tasting the meagre burnt scones I realised that baking soda is definitely not the same thing as baking powder.  I had to have some water to remove the bitter taste from my mouth, and scraped the remaining miserable things into the bin.

The traditional English tea will have to wait I'm afraid.







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