The Journey of the Scone

I recently went on a mini-vacation (I mean like a 3-day mini vacation) to the United States and returned to Colombia with 3 bags of gold. By gold, I’m referring to the scone mix my mom made for me – basically equivalent. All I had to do was add butter and water; perfect foreign country comfort food. I hadn’t used my oven yet, so this would be the best initiation ever into the world of baking in Colombia. I couldn’t wait. Imagine eating scones with some of the best coffee in the world. Yes! I couldn’t just enjoy this on my own however, so I invited Debbie (an American friend) over to celebrate with me.

The plan was to meet at my apartment at 4:00. At 1:30 I went to watch this giant parade of horses through one of the main streets in the city. It was a grand ‘ol time, but my mind was set on scones. At 3:30 I graciously took leave from the other teachers and headed home. Unfortunately, my apartment was on the opposite side of the street. In order to make it home I would have had to literally jump the barricade, run across 100,000 horses, dodge Colombian police and jump the barricade on the other side. Not happening. Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, can’t go through it, gotta go around it. I walked as quickly as I could about 16 blocks through a crowded street party trying to figure out how to bypass this now stupid parade that was keeping me from my apartment and scones. I took about 7 side streets that I didn’t know existed, but finally as 4:03 hit I rushed into my apartment building. Debbie was in the lobby waiting for me.

We made it upstairs and I showed her around. Then I broke the news to Debbie: I have never used my oven and quite frankly was messing around with it in the morning but couldn’t figure it out. I think it’s fair to say I’ve had my share of struggles with Colombian appliances.  Luckily she had in mind what to do. We turned on the gas, tinkered around inside, lit a match and eventually got it to light. Whew. Good thing she’s well versed in Latin American appliances. Well Debbie sat down and I went to work. I cut in the butter and then added the water. The recipe said “2/3 cup: trust me”. So I added the 2/3 cup. Oh boy was that some mushy scone mix. Luckily I had some flour on hand. I just kept adding it until I ran out. Unfortunately I couldn’t get it to the right consistency to make a circle and cut the pieces. Blobs it would have to be. Yes, I plopped scone blobs all over my new cookie sheet. Who cares if the scones weren’t perfect triangles like I make in the USA. No big deal, we’re talking scones here folks. It’s the texture and flavor that count!

So my little blobs of joy/bliss went into the oven without a hitch and Debbie and I sat and chatted for a while. About 13.55 minutes in I went to check them. I opened the door and felt the top of one. It wasn’t even slightly cooked. Not even warm.  The oven had thrown a tantrum and turned itself off. Maybe it doesn’t know the joys of baking a good scone. Debbie came over again and we got it lit with the little box of matches I found in a random drawer. Back into the oven they went. After a few minutes I started to smell burning. It turns out the bottom shelf is a little too close to the flame. Up they went to the top shelf and I closed the door. Come on, you can do it!

Sitting down, I decided I should have checked the flame. Up I went around the corner and to my dismay, it had turned off again. Maybe these scones weren’t so delightful and they were scheming with the oven so that they didn’t have to be cooked. By this time they were about 1/3 of the way done though so we lit it again and decided to just keep an eye on them.  Time passed quickly as we chatted and before we knew it the smell of fresh scones saturated the air. I knew at this point they must be done. I opened to door, poked them, and decided it was time to give them a try.

The first bite was incredible. There is where my description ends. Incredible.

 Maybe it took 35 minutes longer and was a lot more effort, but in the end it was totally worth it. I’m not certain I’ll attempt baking anything else in my oven. Well that is except the 2 remaining packs of scone mix. Oh Colombia, why do your appliances hate me?