A Non-Traumatic Christmas Breakfast For Once: Currant Scones

 Christmas breakfast has been known to be traumatic around here (see https://normalonpaper.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-sad-saga-of-christmas-breakfast.html and https://normalonpaper.blogspot.com/2017/12/the-christmas-breakfast-saga-continues.html for previous breakfast traumas). And we don't even talk about the year when my Christmas breakfast was currant scones, champagne, and tears. But things have calmed down, partly as a function of my kids getting older and thus more helpful, David's dietary restrictions loosening up, and my general giving of fewer fucks with the passage of time. Things were so chill and organized this year that I decided, 10 minutes before breakfast, that we needed a batch of (non-teary) scones to go with a pot of tea after we demolished the breakfast casserole. 

I love scones. My introduction to them was an unexpected delivery from Zingerman's, which is both an unmitigated delight and the best possible introduction to any baked good. They've always felt exotic and special to me since then, and I loved coffee shop trips in my thirties when I found scones in the bakery case. I was delighted to realize that they're dead easy to make and are just as exotic and delicious at home with a pot of tea (yes, I realize scones are actually the opposite of exotic, they're basically a muffin that doesn't leave you with an annoying pan to wash, or a rich biscuit with fruit - both very ordinary foods). 

This is such an easy recipe as written, but I've adapted it slightly to make it Even Easier and to take zero bowls, unless you count the one from the food processor, which I don't because it fits in my dishwasher and I don't have to hand-wash it. How to Cook Everything was one the first cookbooks I've destroyed through love and over-use, though I refuse to replace it with an updated version no matter how dilapidated it becomes; the new versions have everything in the wrong order and they don't have 2 decades worth of notes written in the margins. Mark Bittman helped me become a good home cook, leaving behind the Gourmet Magazine excesses of my twenties and actually managing to produce something on weeknights on a regular basis. It's sufficiently comprehensive that I'll never manage to cook my way through it, and it continues to be my go-to when I have an ingredient I'm not necessarily feeling inspired by. 

These really are at their best the day they're made. I've never tried freezing and reviving them because they never last long enough; I was shocked to wake up this morning and realize that we had three left from yesterday's breakfast. They were perfectly fine with a cup of coffee, but they dry out quickly and the crumb isn't as tender. I'm only going to recommend the food processor method if you're using gluten-free flour mix, as there's no danger of overworking your dough and thus overdeveloping the gluten and making your scones tough. While they're not as tender a crumb as a scone made with wheat flour, they're also not going to make anyone in your house sick or sad that they're missing out. 

Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman. 

Non-Traumatic Christmas Breakfast Scones 

2 cups GF flour blend (we're using Bob's Red Mill these days)
1 tsp salt 
4 tsp baking powder 
2 Tbsp sugar 
5 Tbsp butter, ideally cold, cut into pieces 
3 eggs 
3/4 cup heavy cream 
1/3 cup dried currants or other dried fruit even though currants are best 
1 Tbsp water 

Preheat the oven to 450. The rest of this will come together in the time it takes the oven to come to temperature. 

Put all the dry ingredients minus one tablespoon of the sugar into the bowl of your food processor and pulse to blend. Sprinkle the butter over the top and pulse to combine; your flour will look more like coarse cornmeal once everything is blended in. Beat the eggs with the cream and pour over the top, then pulse to just barely blend. Sprinkle the currants evenly over the top and pulse a few times to combine. Pulse a few more times to fake the step where you gently knead the dough on a floured cutting board, which is altogether too much work and too sticky with GF flour. 

Turn out onto a baking sheet and pat into a 1 1/2-inch thick round or rectangle. Cut into triangles (or use a biscuit cutter if you're being fancy; you can re-pat the scraps to make as many as possible). 

Beat the third egg with the water and brush over the top, then sprinkle with the second tablespoon of sugar. Bake 7-9 minutes or until the tops are light golden in color, which actually happens even though they're gluten-free thanks to the egg. 

This is Not a Burger: Chop Suey Something

Weeknight dinners have become pretty routine around here since I went back to work full-time. As much as I love variety and new things for dinner, the need to get food on the table before 10 p.m. limits what I can reasonably do. As a result, we've had a regular go-to list of the same items in rotation, and not much of it is something I feel the need to preserve in writing. 

The burger cookbook, though.... I've posted recipes from this one before, specifically the amazing Big Mac knock-off that has become a staple around here and black bean burgers that non-vegetarians will enjoy. This book lets me not think too hard about the grocery list but adds a lot of variety to burger night; we're well on our way to cooking every recipe in here (though I suspect the seafood section will pose some difficulty. We'll have to wait until John moves out). While cooking from this book falls into the category of Having Burgers Once a Week, it does give us an excuse to make Tater Tots on the regular and lets me try more variations on a simple theme. 

This recipe for a "chop suey burger" - the most American version of an American dish masquerading as Chinese - is a bit of a departure from the burger patty. I honestly don't know how they can justify calling it a burger when it is clearly something that needs to be ladled over hot rice and eaten with a fork. Nonetheless, it's much more delicious than I would have thought from the ingredient list, which is full of vegetables but no spices whatsoever. We doubled the recipe below so there was enough for Hungry Teenage Boy and also leftovers for lunch the next day; as written it says it makes 6 "burgers" but I really have my doubts about their math. Note that if you double the recipe you don't end up with extra bamboo shoots and water chestnuts.  

From "The Great Big Burger Book" by Jane Murphy and Liz Yeh SIngh, which I discovered at Kyrie's cottage and bought on a whim. No regrets. 

Chop Suey Something That is Definitely Not a Burger 

1 lb. ground pork
1 tsp soy sauce 
2 Tbsp oyster sauce 
1 medium yellow onion, chopped 
1 Tbsp canola oil 
1 cup chopped bok choy 
1/4 cup bamboo shoots 
4 oz white mushrooms, sliced 
1/4 cup sliced water chestnuts, drained 
1 celery stalk, sliced 
1 cup chicken broth 
2 Tbsp cornstarch 
1/4 cup water 

In a large skillet, brown the pork with the soy sauce, 1 tablespoon of the oyster sauce, and the onion until the meat is no longer pink. Transfer it to a bowl. 

Heat the skillet over high heat until it's really, really hot. Add the oil and swirl around the bottom of the pan to also make it really, really hot, then add the bok choy, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, water chestnuts, and celery. Cook until the vegetables are just softened, about 4 minutes, then add the pork and chicken stock. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer 10 minutes. 

Make a slurry of the remaining tablespoon of oyster sauce, cornstarch, and water. Add to the skillet slowly and bring to a boil for about a minute or until the sauce is thickened. 

Serve over rice. The original recipe recommends serving it over toasted French bread but I think that's just a last-ditch effort to make it sound like this is actually a burger. I see no need to bring knives into the equation. 

This Ain't No Shirley Temple: A Mocktail for Grown-Ups

While I cherish our pre-Thanksgiving tradition of throwing back some bourbon while polishing the silver and getting the table ready, I'm not always ready to leap into a second day of imbibing while there are still food-type things occurring in the kitchen. I have too much respect for hot stoves and sharp knives. That being said, the holiday calls for something festive to drink; and if you're cooking responsibly and want your guests to both feel welcome and be okay to drive home later, you might want to start with a signature mocktail. 

The very word makes me roll my eyes 99% of the time - if you're over 10 and think a Shirley Temple* is a fancy treat, most mocktail recipes were designed with you in mind. They're rarely anything more than fancied-up pop served in a glass you have to hand wash. In my experience, mocktails have been too sweet, too simple, and too - well, childish - to replace an actual cocktail. 

After much scouring of the internet, I'm delighted to be proven wrong by this recipe, which features non-alcoholic gin - something I surely never envisioned myself purchasing - which adds a level of complexity to this drink and really makes it feel like a drink for a special day. The only annoying ingredient is juniper berries, which I happened to have in my pantry but have since found very hard to replace; none of the bougie stores near me carry them and I had to resort to amazon.com for a replacement batch (sorry, Penzey's - I just couldn't bring myself to fight the traffic to give you my business). 

As with most cocktail recipes these scale up easily, and will make the entire holiday crowd marvel at the fact that they're non-alcoholic. You could, of course, add Actual Gin to make it a cocktail, and those are delightful too. 

This recipe comes from Southern Living and is attributed to Austin bar owner Chris Marshall. The link from the syrup recipe is super-annoyingly broken so it took a bit of digging to find the actual drink recipe, which I have thoughtfully included below.  

Berry Juniper Fizz Mocktail

For the juniper syrup: 

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
2 tablespoons crushed juniper berries 

Bring the sugar and water to a boil in a small saucepan. Remove from heat, stir in the juniper berries, and steep for 30 minutes. Strain and store in the fridge until you run out because it's good in everything. 

For the mocktail: 

1 oz. juniper syrup
1 oz gin (NA or regular)
2 oz. pomegranate juice 
1/2 oz. orange juice 
Cranberry sparkling juice 

In a cocktail shaker, shake the first 4 ingredients with ice until frothy. Strain into a coupe glass and top with cranberry sparkling juice. 

If you're not using a coupe - and frankly, who is? - the proportion we ended up using in my vintage don't-know-the-name-of-the-glass barware was about 1 part shaken ingredients to 2 parts sparkling juice. We also made these as a large batch so we didn't shake them over ice, and it was just fine. 

* I adore Shirley Temple. I have a box set of DVDs of many of her movies in all their problematic glory.