THE WATER ENRICHESMY BODY, ANDTHE BREEZE BRUSHINGACROSS MY CHEEK IS REFRESHING.THE SUN WARMS ME,ANDTHE EARTH GENTLY EMBRACES MY BODY.I DO NOT WANT TOLOSE THIS.WHAT IS IT THATI SHOULD PROTECT?– Commes des Garcons, Poem Pants (2002), Junya Watanbe I can...
THE WATER ENRICHES
MY BODY, AND
THE BREEZE BRUSHING
ACROSS MY CHEEK
IS REFRESHING.
THE SUN WARMS ME,
AND
THE EARTH GENTLY
EMBRACES MY BODY.
I DO NOT WANT TO
LOSE THIS.
WHAT IS IT THAT
I SHOULD PROTECT?
– Commes des Garcons, Poem Pants (2002), Junya Watanbe
I can chart the trauma of my body like a sailor charts the sea. Here, there’s a freckle and that means an entrance and to the right of it - a rip, and that has to be navigated carefully. That inky word and the discoloration that surrounds it, he wrote that. And down, south, to the soft part, well that’s the end and we don’t go there we don’t talk about that.
I associate Him with winter and water for I met Him here four July’s ago and I lost Him last. “You’re getting better now!” They said. “You’re a woman now!” They said. “I do not want this!” I also said. But look at how I have given us up! A splint in the chest or the head is what it feels like. These heartstrings hurt, and yet, the sea still pulls. It rolls in and it tells lies. I have met many mouths with formations like that. But I am anchored here.
I made these scones in my temporal seaside home. Simple, and just sweet, with the few staples I had. The pantry wasn’t mine. They’re easily changeable and that’s what I like about them best. I don’t often stick to recipes, not even my own, and I like a blank canvas that can be tainted according to my shifting tastes - in this case, the sea. Roasted brandied pears, orelys white chocolate, walnuts. But I want you to make them yours, to alter them – their course.
And so, I’ll continue to sing to my lover on this forlorn rock. For he’s lost and I’m calling him in, calling him home. But this siren isn’t strong enough and who says I want this. Instead, I’ll dream of things like his mouth full of seaweed or fish, and I start to think that’s less strange than the sound he makes when he’s sucking in sleep.
Hold still, weathered heart, what is living for him now will die also.
for the scones
70 g (1/2 cup) walnuts, 300 g (2 1/3 cups + 1 tablespoon) all-purpose flour, 75 g (1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons) granulated sugar, 3 teaspoons of baking powder, ½ teaspoon of ground cinnamon, ¼ teaspoon salt, 450 ml (1 ¾ cups + 2 tablespoons) cold heavy cream, 1 cup additions of your desire: like a mix of seasonal fruits, berries, chocolate, nuts, roughly chopped (I used roasted brandied pears (recipe follows) and white chocolate chunks), a little extra cream (to coat), a few pinches of extra granulated sugar (to finish)
Pre-heat the oven to 180 C (350F). Line two large baking sheets with non-stick parchment paper. Scatter the walnuts over one of the sheets, then set in the oven to roast for about 10 minutes, until golden brown. Allow to cool completely, then pulverize to a coarse meal in a high-powered food processor or blender, being careful to stop at the precipice of damp clumps, less than 15 seconds. Tip into a large mixing bowl then increase the oven to 200 C (400 F).
Add the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt into the bowl with the walnuts. Give the dry ingredients a good stir with a wooden spoon, then make a cavity in the center and pour in the cream. Begin to stir, slowly, but with all the firmness and restraint of a guiding hand, until the dough has started to come together. Tip in your additions and mix until distributed. A few floury pockets are fine to remain.
Dust a work surface with flour. Tip the dough out, then gather and pat it into a 2.5-cm (1-inch) thick mound. Lightly flour as needed. It’ll seem hard to handle at first but it’ll come together as you continue to work with it. Trim to neaten the edges of the dough then cut evenly into six-square sized scones. Divide between the prepared baking sheets, allowing a few inches of space for spreading. Coat the tops with a light wash of the extra cream and sprinkle of sugar.
Bake for about 20 minutes, rotating halfway through, until golden brown. Let the scones stand on the sheet for a few minutes, before transferring off and onto a wire rack to cool further before serving. I like them best warm, with crème fraîche or lightly sweetened cream, and some left-over seasonal fruit.
for the roasted brandied pears
4 large ripe beurre bosc pears, 110 g (1/2 cup) light brown sugar, 135 ml (1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon) maple syrup, 3 tablespoons of brandy, juice from a lemon and a thick strip of its peel, a vanilla bean pod, 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter
Pre-heat the oven to 160 C (320 F).
Peel and core the pears, then cut them lengthways in half and place cut side down in a large roasting dish. Scatter over the sugar, then pour in the maple syrup, brandy and lemon juice. Toss in the peel. Use a sharp knife to split the vanilla bean pod then scrape out the seeds and onto the tops of the pears. Throw in the bare bones of the pod, too. Give it all a good toss with your hands until evenly coated. Dot over the butter.
Cover with foil and bake for just over an hour, depending on the size of your pears, until tender. The syrup should also have reduced to a bubbling-sultry-fragrance. Be sure to rotate the dish half-way through baking, and basting then turning the fruit over in its juices. Remove from the oven and allow to completely.
If using for the scones, chop the pears into rough chunks and reserve enough for a cup.
