Ensconced in the Kitchen Making Scones

Fig and apricot scones 

First off, let me say I pronounce the word scone to rhyme with don and upon. It's not an affectation. It wouldn't occur to me to pronounce it the other way. End of.

Now, moving on. Last Saturday (30th January) I made fig and apricot scones using the recipe in Norfolk's Own Cookbook. I had an open packet of dried apricots and I wanted to use it. The ingredients include self-raising flour, caster sugar, dried figs and apricots, butter, ground cinnamon, baking powder and milk. I put everything into a bowl and brought them together with a knife. Then I tipped out the dough on to a work surface and kneaded it for the final binding. Now, for some unknown reason, I misread the instruction to roll out the dough to a 4cm thickness: I rolled it out to 4mm and then wondered why I ended up with twenty rather than ten scones. They were somewhat biscuity but very tasty. I will try them again - not sure when though, as I have prepared a list of recipes I want to try out this year. 

Back with Benjamin

It's been a while but I'm reading Benjamin Black again. Even the Dead. Such a pleasure. 

Quirke is in the dissecting room: 

Quirke didn't answer. He stood gazing down at the charred and twisted body, then turned away. Sinclair put the nylon sheet back into place. Even down here they could sense the sunlight outside, heavy as honey. (From Chapter 2)

Now he's at his adoptive brother's house: 

The garden was [Mal's] latest enthusiasm. The long spell of fine weather, with fresh, sunny days and brief, soft nights, had him as excited as a bumble-bee, and he spent long and happy hours out among his rose bushes and herbaceous borders. (From Chapter 6) 

Short and sweet. 

Minnie