{"id":21,"date":"2015-04-18T05:26:00","date_gmt":"2015-04-18T09:26:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2015\/04\/18\/i-like-to-imagine"},"modified":"2015-12-16T17:09:00","modified_gmt":"2015-12-16T22:09:00","slug":"i-like-to-imagine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2015\/04\/i-like-to-imagine\/","title":{"rendered":"I like to imagine"},"content":{"rendered":"

The only bookshelves in our house are in June\u2019s room, one and a half walls of built-ins that bracket the space like a capital L. The previous owner had used the room as an office, as far as we can tell, and we planned to do the same. We set my desk under the window. I had just started writing Delancey<\/i>\u00a0then, and I pounded out the early chapters there – or, more often, avoided pounding out the early chapters by watching nuthatches flit around the giant evergreen<\/a>\u00a0outside. At some point, we decided that having a baby would be good idea, and to make room for her, we moved my desk to the dining room,\u00a0replaced it with a crib<\/a>, and hung her\u00a0name on the door<\/a>. And that is how it came to pass that the only bookshelves in our house are in June\u2019s room, three people\u2019s worth of cookbooks, fiction, grad school texts, and picture books, climbing the walls. I like to imagine that this will make some kind of lasting impression, that she\u2019s absorbing novels and recipes by proximity as she sleeps, maybe, or that she\u2019ll grow up to remember the books as a quiet, reassuring presence, like the old lady in the rocker in\u00a0Goodnight Moon<\/i>, the one whispering “hush.” I like to imagine.<\/p>\n

In any case, the fact that we have only limited space for books is frustrating, but it\u2019s also nice, because I get a real thrill out of getting rid of books we don\u2019t use. We could buy some bookshelves, yes – or I could just cull the herd once a year and revel in the satisfaction of that until it\u2019s time to do it again. For now, we\u2019ve chosen the latter, and last week, I hauled four bags of books to Half Price Books. Cheap thrills!<\/p>\n

Anyway, as I was doing this latest round of culling, my hand paused on the spine of Breakfast, Lunch, Tea<\/a><\/i>, by Rose Bakery<\/a> founder Rose Carrarini. I\u2019ve had the book since shortly after its publication in 2006, and though I\u2019ve used it twice at most, I can\u2019t seem to get rid of it. I like its spacious layout and the way the food looks tidy and geometric, but also clearly handmade. A loaf of polenta cake is impeccably square in cross-section, but the powdered sugar on top is uneven. One arm of a star-shaped gingerbread cookie bends slightly, gracefully, toward another arm, like a sea star on the move. A small lemon tart is clean and round as a clock face, but the lip of the crust rises gently at four o\u2019clock, where a finger pinched it shut. This is food I want to look at. Rose Bakery also has handsome concrete-and-metal tables, which you can see in a picture on page 57, and we liked them so much that, based on that picture alone,\u00a0we copied them<\/a>\u00a0at Delancey. All that said, I never use this book. I almost never even pick it up. It takes up shelf space. My fingers itched.<\/p>\n

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But then, then, I remembered having seen a recent mention of it online, and that this mention came from my friend Shari, she of the\u00a0sweet potato pound cake<\/a>\u00a0and the\u00a0raspberry-ricotta cake<\/a>\u00a0recommendations. She\u2019d posted a shot of some date scones she\u2019d made from a Rose Bakery recipe, and she\u2019d raved. I decided to let the book live another round, and I added dates to the grocery list.<\/p>\n

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Now. You probably don\u2019t need another scone recipe, and I don\u2019t either. But I will be keeping this recipe, need it or not. The dough is made from half white flour and half whole wheat, which means that it gets the flavor of wheat without its weight. It\u2019s sweetened only lightly, and with brown sugar, so most of its sweetness comes from the dates themselves, dark and fudgy. You could stop right there and have a great scone. But this particular specimen also includes freshly grated nutmeg, which gives it – and, in my experience, any baked good that uses nutmeg in sufficient quantity – a certain intoxicating\u00a0eau de doughnut<\/i>. The scones bake up sturdy but tender, biscuit-y, and between the whole wheat and the sticky dried fruit and the spicing, they double as both a weekday breakfast and\u00a0a totally racy afternoon snack.<\/p>\n

One final aside: your scones will not, and should not, look as date-y as mine do. The recipe as written in the book has both weight and volume measures, and I learned the hard way that the weight measure for the dates is incorrect. It calls for 250 grams of pitted, chopped dates, indicating that this should equal a scant \u00bd cup. Because I like to bake by weight, I didn\u2019t even look at the volume measure before I cheerfully stirred in the entire 250 grams, or more than\u00a0half a pound.<\/i>\u00a0I like dates, but there\u2019s a limit. 250 grams, as it turns out, measures to nearly one and a half cups, or nearly three times what you actually need and want. The recipe below reflects my correction.<\/p>\n

Happy weekend.<\/p>\n\n

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Recipe<\/div>\n

Whole Wheat Date Scones<\/h2>\n

Inspired by Breakfast, Lunch, Tea<\/a><\/i>, by Rose Carrarini<\/h3> \n \n <\/header>\n\n
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