Breads and Baking
Mrs. Graham’s Oatmeal Scones with Clotted Cream
“I’ve brought but the two cups, for I thought perhaps Mrs. Randall would care to join me in the kitchen. I’ve a bit of—” I didn’t wait for the conclusion of her invitation, but leapt to my feet with alacrity. I could hear the theories breaking out again behind me as we pushed through the swinging door that led to the manse’s kitchen.
The tea was green, hot and fragrant, with bits of leaf swirling through the liquid.
“Mmm,” I said, setting the cup down. “It’s been a long time since I tasted Oolong.”
Mrs. Graham nodded, beaming at my pleasure in her refreshments. She had clearly gone to some trouble, laying out handmade lace mats beneath the eggshell cups and providing thick clotted cream with the scones.
—Outlander, chapter 1, “A New Beginning”
Oatmeal Scones
As the caller at Craigh na Dun and fortune-teller at the town fair, Mrs. Graham undoubtedly believes in at least a few spirits beyond those with whom she communes in church on a Sunday. How much does she know? One thing’s for certain—she’ll never tell—practical, Presbyterian lips like hers don’t crack easily.
I like to think, however, that she would have gladly shared her scone recipe with us. As traditional as the woman herself, and made hearty with oats and tender with butter, their slight sweetness is the perfect foil to the tang of clotted cream.
Makes 8
Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup rolled oats
⅓ cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¾ cup (12 tablespoons) cold butter
⅔ cup light cream
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 350°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a large bowl, combine the flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, and salt and mix well.
Set aside 2 tablespoons of the butter. Grate the remaining butter into the flour mixture and stir to distribute evenly.
Make a well in the center of the bowl and pour in the cream, mixing with a large spoon. Use your hands to bring the dough together into a rough ball, pour onto a lightly floured counter, and knead lightly until combined.
Lightly flour the top and bottom of the dough and pat it into a 1-inch-thick round. Use a 3-inch cutter to cut eight circles. Evenly space the scones on the prepared baking sheet.
Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter, use it to brush the tops of the scones, and bake until golden brown on the tops and bottoms, 20 to 25 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for at least 15 minutes.
Serve slightly warm with clotted cream or butter and jam.
Store in a covered container for 3 to 4 days.
Notes
• Substitute buttermilk for the cream for a lower-fat scone with a tang.
• Optional additions: ½ cup raisins, currants, or dried cranberries. For a savory scone, ½ cup shredded cheese and/or 2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme or rosemary.
• If you prefer, cut the dough into eight equally sized wedges; these are called farls.
Ancient Britons may have clotted cream to lengthen its shelf life, but more recently, prior to agricultural industrialization, dairy farmers clotted their milk because it resulted in a higher yield of cream. Modern cream separators have eliminated the need for clotting, but the sweet, slightly nutty flavor of clotted cream remains popular in the UK and many Commonwealth countries. It is a traditional part of a formal tea, and usually accompanies scones and strawberry preserves.
Begin the recipe early in the morning to have clotted cream ready for the next day.
Makes 1 cup
Ingredient
2 cups whipping cream (not ultrapasteurized)
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 180°F.
Pour the cream into an ovenproof dish or saucepan, cover, and set in the oven until a thick, yellowish skin has formed on top of the cream, 8 to 12 hours.
Cool completely on the counter and refrigerate overnight.
Use a spoon to carefully skim the firm clotted cream from the surface. Stir until smooth, creamy, and the texture of whipped butter. Use the whey in the bottom of the dish for baking, in a smoothie, or discard.
Serve alongside freshly baked scones with a pot of Fraser Strawberry Jam.
Store covered in the fridge up to 3 days.
Notes
• Ultrapasteurized cream will not work in this recipe.
• The fresher the cream, the better it will clot and the longer it will last.
• The greater the surface area of the cream, the faster and better it will clot. Choose a dish or pan so that the cream is 1 to 3 inches deep, and not deeper than 3 inches.
Pumpkin Seed and Herb Oatcakes
I found what I supposed I had been looking for in the central drawer. A half-finished letter, written in a flowing hand rendered no more legible by the eccentric spelling and total lack of punctuation. The paper was fresh and clean, and the ink crisply black. Legible or not, the date at the top of the page sprang out at me as though written in letters of fire: 20 April, 1743.
When he returned a few moments later, Colum found his guest seated by the casement windows, hands clasped decorously in her lap. Seated, because my legs would no longer hold me up. Hands clasped, to hide the trembling that had made it difficult for me to stuff the letter back into its resting place.
He had brought with him the tray of refreshments; mugs of ale and fresh oatcakes spread with honey. I nibbled sparingly at these; my stomach was churning too vigorously to allow for any appetite.
—Outlander, chapter 5, “The MacKenzie”
Ubiquitous in eighteenth-century Scotland, oatcakes have made a resurgence in the early part of this century as a gluten-free alternative to bread and crackers. The herbs and pumpkin seeds in this recipe make a modern and flavorful addition to the traditional oatcakes Claire nibbled on with Colum.
Makes two 6-inch oatcakes (16 farls)
Ingredients
1½ cups coarsely ground rolled oats (see Grinding Grains, Nuts, and Seeds)
¼ cup finely ground unsalted pumpkin seeds (see Grinding Grains, Nuts, and Seeds)
1 tablespoon cornstarch or tapioca starch
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon minced fresh thyme
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons butter
Flour, for dusting
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 375°F.
In a large bowl, combine the ground oats and pumpkin seeds, cornstarch or tapioca starch, honey, herbs, and salt.
In a small saucepan, melt the butter in ¼ cup hot water over medium-high heat. When the water boils, stir it into the dry ingredients to make a stiff dough, adding more hot water sparingly if required.
Divide the dough in half and loosely tent aluminum foil over one piece to keep it warm. On an 8-inch square of lightly floured parchment paper, roll out the other piece into a circle ¼ inch thick. Loosen and turn the dough as you go to prevent it from sticking. Use a 6-inch plate and a sharp knife to cut out a large circular oatcake. If it is too cool and too stiff to roll, lightly knead 1 tablespoon boiling water into the dough first. Cut the circle into eight equal wedges, or farls, but do not separate. Repeat with the second half of the dough.
Bake both oatcakes on their parchment, on a single baking sheet until light golden, 15 to 20 minutes. Cool on a wire rack and gently separate.
Enjoy with Crowdie Cheese and Tomato Pickle in the Manger, or serve with butter and honey.
Store in a covered container up to a week.
Notes
• Not all oats are guaranteed to be gluten-free. Check the packaging before you buy.
• Grind extra oats and use them to flour the parchment to keep everything gluten-free.
• Use a 2- or 3-inch cutter to make individual round oatcakes instead.
• Mix it up with different seeds and nuts, herbs and spices, such as almonds and mint, sesame seeds and black pepper, cashews and caraway, and so on.
“The peasants of Gascony beat a faithless wife wi’ nettles,” he said. He lowered the spiky bunch of leaves and brushed the flower heads lightly across one breast. I gasped from the sudden sting, and a faint red blotch appeared as though by magic on my skin.
“Will ye have me do so?” he asked. “Shall I punish you that way?”
“If you . . . if you like.” My lips were trembling so hard I could barely get out the words. A few crumbs of earth from the nettles’ roots had fallen between my breasts; one rolled down the slope of my ribs, dislodged by my pounding heart, I imagined. The welt on my breast burned like fire. I closed my eyes, imagining in vivid detail exactly what being thrashed with a bunch of nettles would feel like.
Suddenly the viselike grip on my wrist relaxed. I opened my eyes to find Jamie sitting cross-legged by me, the plants thrown aside and scattered on the ground. He had a faint, rueful smile on his lips.
“I beat you once in justice, Sassenach, and ye threatened to disembowel me with my own dirk. Now you’ll ask me to whip ye wi’ nettles?” He shook his head slowly, wondering, and his hand reached as though by its own volition to cup my cheek. “Is my pride worth so much to you, then?”
“Yes! Yes, it bloody is!” I sat up myself, and grasped him by the shoulders, taking both of us by surprise as I kissed him hard and awkwardly.
—Dragonfly in Amber, chapter 29, “To Grasp the Nettle”
Nettles are native to Europe, Asia, northern Africa, and most of North America. Found in wetlands, forests, and meadows, they are at their culinary peak in early to mid-spring. When foraging, wear protective clothing to guard against stings, and clip only the top two to three sets of leaves, which are the most tender.
These soft rolls are full of savory, earthy flavor and are a wonderful accompaniment to Gypsy Stew or to complete a breakfast of bacon and A Coddled Egg for Duncan.
Makes 12
Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup stone-ground whole wheat flour
1¼ teaspoons instant yeast
1 teaspoon kosher salt
6 tablespoons cold butter
1 large egg
2 tablespoons honey
⅔ cup whole milk at room temperature
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
6 big handfuls (wear gloves!) fresh young nettle leaves
¼ cup shredded Parmesan cheese
Zest of 1 lemon, grated or minced
¼ cup pine nuts or slivered almonds
Method
In the bowl of a standing mixer, combine the flours, yeast, and salt. Using the paddle attachment, mix together on low. Add 2 tablespoons of the butter in small chunks and mix on medium-low until well blended.
In a separate bowl whisk the egg and honey into the milk and add it to the dry ingredients. Mix on medium-low until combined into a rough ball. Switch to the dough hook and knead on medium-low for 5 minutes until the dough is soft, supple, and tacky but not sticky.
Alternatively, combine the dough by hand and knead on a lightly floured counter for 6 to 8 minutes.
Pour the oil into a large bowl, roll the dough in the oil to coat, and cover with a plate or plastic wrap. Set in a warm place to rise until the dough is doubled, 1½ to 2 hours.
Meanwhile, blanch the nettles in boiling salted water for 2 to 3 minutes. Drain the nettles and immediately submerge them in ice water to stop the cooking process and maintain their bright green color. When cool, drain the nettles and wring them in a clean dishcloth to squeeze out as much moisture as possible. Chop finely.
Melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter.
Line a 9-inch square or round baking pan with parchment paper.
Turn the proofed dough out onto a lightly floured counter and roll into a 12-inch square. Brush the dough with 2 tablespoons of the melted butter and spread the nettles evenly on top. Sprinkle the Parmesan, lemon zest, and pine nuts on top and press them lightly into the dough with the palm of your hand.
Roll the dough into a log, using a bench scraper or spatula to release the dough when necessary. Pinch the bottom seam to seal, and rock it, seam side down, to flatten the join.
Flour a knife or bench scraper and cut the log in half, then quarters. Cut each quarter into three pieces for a total of twelve buns. Gently transfer the slices to the parchment paper–lined pan, cover with plastic, and let rise on the counter until doubled, about 1 hour.
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 350°F.
Dab the remaining 2 tablespoons melted butter onto the proofed rolls with a pastry brush and bake until light golden, 12 to 15 minutes.
Cool slightly on a wire rack before serving.
Keep leftovers in an airtight container up to 3 days.
Notes
• Wash just-picked nettles in a bowl of tepid water with a splash of vinegar to kill any little bugs.
• If you don’t want to pick your own, look for nettles at farmers’ markets in spring, or substitute spinach, kale, chard, collards, mustard, or any favorite greens.
Young Simon snorted and looked at Jamie for support. Over the last two months, his initial suspicious hostility had faded into a reluctant respect for his bastard relative’s obvious expertise in the art of war.
“Jamie says . . .” he began.
“I ken well enough what he says,” Old Simon interrupted. “He’s said it often enough. I shall make up my own mind in my own time. But bear it in mind, lad—when it comes to declaring yourself in a war, there’s little to be lost by waiting.”
“Waiting to see who wins,” Jamie murmured, studiously wiping his plate with a bit of bread. The old man looked up sharply, but evidently decided to ignore this contribution.
—Dragonfly in Amber, chapter 41, “The Seer’s Curse”
A welcoming whole-meal loaf made with stone-ground whole wheat flour and oats.
Start the preferment the night before to add flavor and lift to whole-grain loaves that would otherwise be dense and heavy-tasting. The preferment is an easier, modern simulation of the more authentic yeast culture, which cooks in the past kept alive by feeding with flour and water.
Makes 12 buns or two 1½-pound loaves
Ingredients
3½ cups stone-ground whole wheat flour
1½ teaspoons instant yeast
1¼ cups lukewarm whole milk
1 cup coarsely ground rolled oats (see Grinding Grains, Nuts, and Seeds)
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
2 tablespoons honey
1 large egg
2 tablespoons melted butter, plus additional
2 tablespoons rolled oats
Method
Just before you go to bed, mix together in a medium bowl 1½ cups of the flour and ¼ teaspoon of the yeast. Stir in the lukewarm milk and cover with a plate. In a separate bowl, mix the coarsely ground oats with 1 cup water and cover with a plate. Set both bowls on the counter overnight.
The next morning, in the bowl of a standing mixer, combine the remaining 2 cups flour and 1¼ teaspoons yeast with the salt and mix thoroughly, using the paddle attachment on low speed. Add the frothy preferment, oat soaker, honey, and egg. Mix on medium-low until the dough forms a rough ball. Scrape down the bowl, change to the dough hook, and knead on medium until the dough is smooth, firm, and slightly tacky but not sticky, 10 to 12 minutes.
Alternatively, mix the dough by hand in a large bowl and knead on a lightly floured counter for 15 to 18 minutes.
Grease a bowl lightly with melted butter and roll the dough in the bowl to coat. Cover with a clean dishcloth and let rise in a warm, draft-free place until doubled in size, 1½ to 2 hours.
Divide the dough into twelve equal pieces and cover with plastic wrap or a clean dishcloth. On a lightly floured counter, working with one piece of dough at a time, draw the edges of the dough into the center, making a ball. Pinch the seam together tightly to seal, turn the ball over, and roll it under your palm in a tight circle on the counter five or six times, to tighten the surface tension of the dough and ensure an even rise (see photo). Flatten the ball slightly with your palm or a rolling pin and repeat with the remaining pieces of dough. Arrange on two parchment paper–lined baking sheets, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise on the counter until almost doubled in size, 60 to 90 minutes.
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 350°F.
Gently brush the tops of the buns with the melted butter, sprinkle the rolled oats on top, and bake until the tops are golden brown and the loaves sound hollow when tapped on the bottom, turning and rotating the pans halfway, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for at least 60 minutes before slicing.
Store in a paper bag or bread bin up to 3 days. Freeze baked buns or loaves up to 2 weeks.
Notes
• Whole wheat flour takes a lot of kneading to develop the gluten, which is what reacts with the yeast and causes the dough to rise—if kneading by hand, it’s helpful to have a friend who can take over when you get tired.
• For an even more flavorful loaf, substitute buttermilk for the milk. If you happen to make your own Crowdie Cheese or Clotted Cream, use the resulting whey in this recipe instead of milk. Waste not, want not!
• For loaves, separate the dough into two equal pieces and follow the shaping and rolling instructions for Honey-Buttermilk Oat Bread. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes.
“A pound of best butter—that’s what you told me to ask for, and I did, but I kept wondering whether there was such a thing as second-best butter, or worst butter—” Brianna was handing over wrapped packages to Fiona, laughing and talking at once.
“Well, and if ye got it from that auld rascal Wicklow, worst is what it’s likely to be, no matter what he says,” Fiona interrupted. “Oh, and ye’ve got the cinnamon, that’s grand! I’ll make cinnamon scones, then; d’ye want to come and watch me do it?”
“Yes, but first I want supper. I’m starved!” Brianna stood on tiptoe, sniffing hopefully in the direction of the kitchen. “What are we having—haggis?”
“Haggis! Gracious, ye silly Sassenach—ye dinna have haggis in the spring! Ye have it in the autumn when the sheep are killed.”
“Am I a Sassenach?” Brianna seemed delighted at the name.
“Of course ye are, gowk. But I like ye fine, anyway.”
—Voyager, chapter 3, “Frank and Full Disclosure”
Light, buttery scones rolled with cinnamon sugar. A sweet start to the day when paired with a cup of coffee, or a delectable afternoon snack alongside a soothing cup of tea.
Makes 8 scones
Ingredients
½ cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2½ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ cup cold butter, plus additional
½ cup whole milk, plus 2 tablespoons
½ cup yogurt
1 cup confectioners’ (powdered) sugar
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 425°F. In a small bowl, stir together the brown sugar and cinnamon and set it aside.
In another bowl, mix together the flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Grate the butter into the bowl and mix well.
In a third bowl, stir the milk and yogurt together. Add to the flour mixture and stir until combined into a slightly sticky ball.
Transfer the dough to a lightly floured counter and sprinkle with a little more flour. Quickly and lightly knead the dough five or six times. Return the dough to the bowl, cover, and chill in the refrigerator for 10 to 15 minutes.
On a lightly floured board, roll out the dough to a 12 x 12-inch square, loosening and turning the dough to keep it from sticking. Sprinkle the cinnamon sugar over the dough in a thick layer, pressing down lightly with your palms. Roll the dough up tightly into a log, using a bench scraper or spatula to lift the dough when necessary. Pat it out to approximately 4 x 12 inches long. Flour a sharp knife or bench scraper and cut the log into quarters. Cut each quarter in half on the diagonal, for a total of eight scones.
Carefully transfer to a parchment paper–lined baking sheet. Melt about 1 tablespoon butter and brush over the tops of the scones. Bake until the tops and bottoms are golden, about 18 to 22 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 20 minutes.
In a small bowl, stir together the confectioners’ sugar and the 2 tablespoons milk.
Drizzle the glaze over the scones and serve while still slightly warm.
Store in a sealed container up to 2 days and reheat slightly before serving.
Notes
• For fresh scones in the morning without all the work, freeze unbaked scones on the pan. Transfer the frozen-solid scones to a freezer bag or sealed container and return to the freezer up to 2 weeks. Bake from frozen at 375°F for 25 to 35 minutes and glaze as above.
• You may have trouble cleaning the pan without parchment paper. Use aluminum foil in a pinch, but watch carefully to make sure the bottoms don’t burn.
• You can dress these up to your heart’s content. Sprinkle 1 cup pecans or walnuts on top of the sugar before rolling. For a Highland treat, soak 1 cup raisins in ¼ cup scotch whisky for 20 minutes before sprinkling them on the dough and rolling. Not a fan of cinnamon? Press 1 cup blueberries into the rolled-out dough and sprinkle with ¼ cup granulated sugar and the zest of a lemon before rolling as directed.
“Hungry, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, rather unnecessarily, I thought.
“Well, yes, now that you mention it. Do you still keep food in the top drawer?” When we were first married, I had developed the habit of keeping small bits of food on hand, to supply his constant appetite, and the top drawer of any chest of drawers where we lived generally provided a selection of rolls, small cakes, or bits of cheese.
He laughed and stretched. “Aye, I do. There’s no much there just now, though, but a couple of stale bannocks. Better I take ye down to the tavern, and—” The look of happiness engendered by perusing the photographs of Brianna faded, to be replaced by a look of alarm. He glanced quickly at the window, where a soft purplish color was beginning to replace the pale gray, and the look of alarm deepened.
“The tavern! Christ! I’ve forgotten Mr. Willoughby!” He was on his feet and groping in the chest for fresh stockings before I could say anything. Coming out with the stockings in one hand and two bannocks in the other, he tossed the latter into my lap and sat down on the stool, hastily yanking on the former.
—Voyager, chapter 24, “A. Malcolm, Printer”
Traditional bannocks, such as Jocasta’s Auld Country Bannocks, were dense round cakes of oat and/or barley meal, animal fat, and water or milk and were consumed, for the most part, while still warm.
This modern recipe yields light and flaky biscuitlike bannocks, thanks be to wheat and baking powder.
Makes 12
Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional
1 cup coarsely ground rolled oats (see Grinding Grains, Nuts, and Seeds)
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
¼ cup (4 tablespoons) cold butter
¾ cup whole milk
½ cup yogurt
Move a rack to the upper-middle rung and heat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Combine the flour, oats, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Grate in the butter and mix well. In a separate bowl stir together the milk and yogurt. Add to the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon to make a slightly sticky dough.
Turn onto a floured counter and sprinkle with more flour. Knead dough lightly five or six times, working in just enough additional flour so that dough is no longer sticky.
Pat or roll into an 8 x 8-inch square, about ½-inch thick. Cut into twelve rectangles and arrange on the prepared baking pan. Bake until just golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes.
Serve warm or cold with butter, cheese and jam, or beside a bowl of Geillis’s Cullen Skink.
Keep in a covered container up to 3 days.
Notes
• The quickest and easiest way to incorporate butter into a dough for bannocks, scones, biscuits, and pastry is to grate it cold.
• To cook your bannocks on the stovetop, heat a large cast-iron pan over medium-low for 5 minutes. Cook the bannocks in batches until golden brown on both sides, 6 to 8 minutes per side.
A knock at the door broke the tension. It was a small serving maid, with a tray of supper. She bobbed shyly to me, smiled at Jamie, and laid both supper—cold meat, hot broth, and warm oat bread with butter—and the fire with a quick and practiced hand, then left us with a murmured “Good e’en to ye.”
We ate slowly, talking carefully only of neutral things; I told him how I had made my way from Craigh na Dun to Inverness, and made him laugh with stories of Mr. Graham and Master Georgie. He in turn told me about Mr. Willoughby; how he had found the little Chinese, half-starved and dead drunk, lying behind a row of casks on the docks at Burntisland, one of the shipping ports near Edinburgh.
We said nothing much of ourselves, but as we ate, I became increasingly conscious of his body, watching his fine, long hands as he poured wine and cut meat, seeing the twist of his powerful torso under his shirt, and the graceful line of neck and shoulder as he stooped to retrieve a fallen napkin. Once or twice, I thought I saw his gaze linger on me in the same way—a sort of hesitant avidity—but he quickly glanced away each time, hooding his eyes so that I could not tell what he saw or felt.
—Voyager, chapter 25, “House of Joy”
A slightly sweet, soft loaf made with oats and the finest milled flour, as only the sophisticated Madame Jeanne would serve.
Makes 12 buns or two 1½-pound loaves
Ingredients
2 cups buttermilk
½ cup whole milk
2 cups rolled oats, plus additional for the top
5 tablespoons honey
5 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons instant yeast
5 tablespoons softened butter, plus additional for the pans
Method
In a saucepan on the stove over low heat or in a dish in the microwave, warm the buttermilk and milk until lukewarm. Stir in the oats and 4 tablespoons of the honey. Set aside while you gather the rest of the ingredients.
In the bowl of a standing mixer, combine the flour, salt, and yeast. Using the paddle attachment, mix on low speed. With the machine running, add 4 tablespoons butter in small chunks. Pour in the buttermilk mixture and combine on medium-low until a rough ball forms. Switch to the bread hook, scrape down the bowl, and knead on medium until the dough ball is soft and dense, tacky but not sticky, about 6 minutes.
Alternatively, mix the dough by hand and knead on a lightly floured counter until soft, dense, and tacky but not sticky, about 10 minutes.
Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap or a plate. Rise in a warm, draft-free place until doubled in size, 1½ to 2 hours.
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 375°F. Grease two loaf pans generously with butter.
Divide the dough into two equal pieces. On a lightly floured counter, press each piece into a rectangle measuring 5 x 8 inches. Starting on the shorter end, roll up the dough one section at a time, using your thumbs to pinch the seam closed after each roll. Pinch the final seam closed, then gently rock the loaf on the counter, seam side down, to even it out. Do not taper the ends.
Transfer to the prepared pans, ensuring that the loaf touches both ends of the pan for an even rise. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a clean dishcloth and rise on the counter until the dough is doubled in size and cresting the top of the pans, 60 to 90 minutes.
Melt the remaining 1 tablespoon butter, and stir together with the remaining 1 tablespoon honey. Brush the tops of both loaves gently. Garnish with a few oats and bake, turning and rotating the pans halfway, until the tops are a dark brown and the loaves sound hollow when tapped on the bottom, 45 to 50 minutes.
Remove the loaves from the pans immediately and cool on a wire rack for at least 60 minutes before slicing.
Notes
• My favorite place to rise dough is in the oven with just the interior light on—a nearly perfect proofing temperature within everyone’s reach.
• Once the dough is shaped and in the pan, it will keep, tightly wrapped, in the fridge up to 2 days, or in the freezer up to 2 weeks. Loaves from the fridge need 2 to 4 hours of rising time on the counter before baking. Defrost frozen loaves, loosely covered on the counter, overnight, then bake as directed.
• For buns, separate the dough into twelve equal pieces and follow the shaping and rolling instructions in Brown Buns at Beauly. Bake buns 25 to 35 minutes.
“That’s a fine wee book, Uncle Jamie,” Ian said, with approval. “Does it say more about the snakes?” He looked hungrily over the expanse of table, in search of more food. Without comment, I reached into the hutch and brought out a plate of spoon bread, which I set before him. He sighed happily and waded in, as Jamie turned the page.
“Well, here’s a bit about how the rattlesnakes charm squirrels and rabbits.” Jamie touched his plate, but encountered nothing save bare surface. I pushed the muffins toward him.
“ ‘It is surprizing to observe how these Snakes will allure and charm Squirrel, Hedge-Conneys, Partridges and many other small Beasts and Birds to them, which they quickly devour. The Sympathy is so strong between these, that you shall see the Squirrel or Partridge (as they have espied this Snake) leap or fly from Bough to Bough, until at last they run or leap directly into its Mouth, not having power to avoid their enemy, who never stirs out of the Posture or Quoil until he obtains his Prey.’ ”
His hand, blindly groping after sustenance, encountered the muffins. He picked one up and glanced up at me. “Damned if I’ve ever seen that, myself. D’ye think it likely?”
“No,” I said, pushing the curls back off my forehead. “Does that book have any helpful suggestions for dealing with vicious pigs?”
He waved absently at me with the remnants of his muffin.
“Dinna fash,” he murmured. “I’ll manage the pig.” He took his eyes off the book long enough to glance over the table at the empty dishes. “Are there no more eggs?”
—Drums of Autumn, chapter 25, “Enter a Serpent”
Corn was the mainstay of many colonial diets, along with pork. Upon arrival, colonists prepared corn dishes as the Native Americans taught them, but were soon replacing wheat with corn in their favorite recipes from home, and using eggs to leaven instead of yeast, which requires the gluten in wheat to produce a rise.
These new dishes were dense and creamy, more similar to English-style puddings than loaves of bread. Spoon bread was a favorite of George Washington, and was served regularly at his residence, Mount Vernon.
Ingredients
1 cup cornmeal
2½ cups whole milk
1 cup corn kernels (fresh, frozen, or canned)
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons lemon juice
3 large eggs
½ teaspoon baking soda
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 350°F. Butter a 9-inch square glass or ceramic baking dish.
In a large saucepan, stir together the cornmeal, milk, corn kernels, butter, and salt over medium flame. Heat until thickened, stirring constantly, 5 to 8 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice.
Beat together the eggs and baking soda in a medium bowl. Add about 1 cup of the hot cornmeal mixture to the eggs to temper, then add that back to the saucepan and mix well before pouring the batter into the buttered baking dish.
Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until the center has set.
Serve hot, with butter and honey, or with Rosamund’s Pulled Pork with Devil’s Apple BBQ Sauce.
Note
• To use fresh corn, blanch a medium-size cob in boiling salted water for 3 minutes. Cool in an ice bath, then drain and pat dry before carefully slicing the kernels off the cob with a sharp knife. Use frozen corn or drained canned corn as is.
Jocasta’s Auld Country Bannocks
“I don’t quite understand,” Brianna said. “Did Mr. Browne not want to admit that a woman hit him?”
“Ah, no,” Jamie said, pouring another cup of ale and handing it to her. “It was only Sergeant Murchison making a nuisance of himself.”
“Sergeant Murchison? That would be the army officer who was at the trial?” she asked. She took a small sip of the ale, for politeness’ sake. “The one who looks like a half-roasted pig?”
Her father grinned at this characterization.
“Aye that’ll be the man. He’s a mislike of me,” he explained. “This wilna be the first time—or the last—that he’s tried such a trick to cripple me.”
“He could not hope to succeed with such a ridiculous charge,” Jocasta chimed in, leaning forward and reaching out a hand. Ulysses, standing by, moved the plate of bannocks the necessary inch. She took one, unerringly, and turned her disconcerting blind eyes toward Jamie.
—Drums of Autumn, chapter 41, “Journey’s End”
Bannocks are many different things to many different people. The bannocks I grew up with here on the Canadian west coast—an unleavened dough of wheat flour, water, and salt, molded over a stick and toasted over an open fire—came originally from our First Nations. In other regions of North America, cornmeal or baking powder might also be in the dough, and bannocks can be deep fried, cooked in a pit, or baked in the oven.
In Scotland, where the term originates from the Gaelic bannach, meaning cake, bannocks were originally round, medium-size flatbreads made from a wet dough of barley and/or oatmeal, and cooked on a girdle, or griddle. Today, the term refers to any baked item similar in shape and size to the original. Wheat flour and baking soda are included in most modern recipes, such as Bannocks at Carfax Close.
Makes one 8-inch bannock
Ingredients
¼ cup whole milk or water
2 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup coarsely ground rolled oats or pearl barley (see Grinding Grains, Nuts, and Seeds), plus additional for rolling
Method
In a small saucepan, combine the milk, butter, and salt and heat over medium flame until the butter melts. Add the hot liquid to the ground oats or barley in a large bowl and stir to form a slightly sticky dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl.
On a lightly floured counter, with lightly floured hands, roll the dough out to an 8-inch circle, about ¼ inch thick.
Heat a cast-iron pan over medium-low flame for 5 minutes. Cut the dough into quarters and cook in the pan until golden, about 5 minutes per side.
Serve warm from the pan with butter and honey.
Notes
• Substitute any animal fat, such as bacon, or use coconut oil for a vegan alternative. The tastiest batch I recall is one I made with the fat left after frying pancetta.
• If you prefer a thicker bannock, double the recipe then roll the dough out to an 8-inch circle, ½ inch thick. Heat the pan over low and cook 10 minutes per side, until lightly browned and cooked through.
• Keep tightly wrapped, uncooked dough in the fridge up to 2 days.
Ian didn’t talk, but ate his way in a businesslike manner through half a loaf with butter and honey, three raisin muffins, two thick slices of ham, and a jug of milk. Jamie had done the milking, I saw; he always used the blue jug, while Mr. Wemyss used the white one. I wondered vaguely where Mr. Wemyss was—I hadn’t seen him, and the house felt empty—but didn’t really care. It occurred to me that perhaps Jamie had told both Mr. Wemyss and Mrs. Bug to stay away for a bit, feeling that I might need a little time alone.
—A Breath of Snow and Ashes, chapter 30, “The Captive”
English muffins, as they are known outside the Great Isles, are thought to have been introduced by French Huguenot immigrants to England in the seventeenth century. The word itself comes from the Low German muffen, meaning “little cakes.”
Split one with a fork while it’s still warm from the griddle, and spread it with Mrs. Bug’s Cinnamon Toast for a sweet, homemade start to the day.
Makes 10 to 12
Ingredients
4 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional for rolling
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons softened butter
1 tablespoon instant yeast
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1¾ cups whole milk
1¼ cups raisins
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
2 tablespoons cornmeal
Method
In the bowl of a standing mixer, combine the flour, sugar, butter, yeast, and salt. Using the paddle attachment, mix on low speed. Add the milk and mix on medium-low until a rough, sticky ball forms. Switch to the dough hook and knead on medium-low for 5 minutes until you have a soft, smooth dough.
Add the raisins gradually, until they are all incorporated into the dough, about 2 more minutes. Form the dough into a ball.
Alternatively, combine the dough by hand and knead for about 10 minutes on a lightly floured counter before adding the raisins gradually. Continue kneading until the raisins are fully incorporated. The dough will start out sticky, but by the time you have finished kneading, it should be soft and smooth with a good stretch.
Add the oil to a large bowl and roll the dough ball around in it to coat. Cover and set in a warm place to rise until doubled, 60 to 75 minutes.
Dust the counter with a mixture of 1 tablespoon cornmeal and 1 tablespoon flour. Dust two baking sheets lightly with 1 teaspoon cornmeal on each.
Roll the dough out into a rough circle 15 inches in diameter and ¾ inch thick. Be gentle, so you don’t lose all the rise. Use a 4-inch round cutter to cut out twelve muffins. Space six muffins evenly apart on each sheet. Dust the top of the muffins lightly with the remaining cornmeal, cover with plastic wrap, and proof on the counter for another 45 to 60 minutes. The muffins should feel slightly puffy.
Heat a flat griddle on the low side of medium-low (see Notes) until the pan feels hot. Gently transfer the muffins to the pan and cook until dark golden, 6 to 8 minutes. Flip them and cook for another 6 to 8 minutes on the other side.
Cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before splitting with a fork and spreading with butter.
Store in a closed container for 3 or 4 days.
Notes
• Don’t cook the muffins at too high a heat, or the outsides will burn before the insides cook through. Watch the heat, and reduce if necessary.
• Omit the raisins if you’re not a fan, or replace them with another dried fruit chopped to a similar size. Muffins flavored with dried apple and cinnamon have become one of my favorite breakfast treats—add 1 to 2 teaspoons cinnamon to the flour at the beginning of the recipe and substitute chopped dried apple for the raisins.
“Mmmphm!” said Mrs. Bug’s voice, grimly satisfied at having routed the rioters. The door closed, and the clang of wood and clang of metal from below announced the commencement of the day’s activities.
When I went down a few moments later, I found that good lady engaged simultaneously in toasting bread, boiling coffee, making parritch, and complaining as she tidied up the men’s leavings. Not about the untidiness—what else could be expected of men?—but rather that Jamie had not waked her to provide a proper breakfast for them.
“And how’s Himself to manage, then?” she demanded, brandishing the toasting-fork at me in reproach. “A fine, big man like that, and him out and doing wi’ no more to line his wame than a wee sup of milk and a stale bannock?”
Casting a bleary eye over the assorted crumbs and dirty crockery, it appeared to me that Himself and his companions had probably accounted for at least two dozen corn muffins and an entire loaf of salt-rising bread, accompanied by a pound or so of fresh butter, a jar of honey, a bowl of raisins, and all of the first milking.
“I don’t think he’ll starve,” I murmured, dabbing up a crumb with a moistened forefinger. “Is the coffee ready?”
—The Fiery Cross, chapter 22, “The Fiery Cross”
Moist, delicious muffins that make a homey accompaniment to any meal.
Makes 12
Ingredients
2 large eggs, slightly beaten
1½ cups buttermilk
2 cups cornmeal
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 can (14 ounces or 398 ml) creamed corn
¼ cup (4 tablespoons) butter, melted
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 400°F. Grease a twelve-cup, nonreactive (not aluminum) muffin tin with butter.
In a small bowl, lightly beat the eggs, then whisk in the buttermilk.
In a large bowl, combine the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, baking soda, and cayenne pepper. Add the buttermilk mixture, creamed corn, and melted butter. Stir until just combined. Rest the mixture on the counter for 15 minutes.
Use a ½ cup measure to fill the muffin cups with batter. Bake in the oven until the edges are just starting to become golden and a toothpick inserted into the centers comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Cool 10 minutes in the pan before transferring to a wire rack.
Serve warm with butter. Best when served shortly after baking, but day-old leftovers are delicious when lightly toasted under the broiler/grill and soaked with butter.
Notes
• Overmixing the batter will result in tunnels in the finished muffins.
• Add your choice of 1 cup frozen blueberries, 4 thinly sliced scallions, 6 strips crisped and crumbled bacon, 1 cup shredded cheese, or ¼ cup chopped pickled jalapeños to the batter to pair these with your favorite breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
• Do not bake these in muffin liners. The warm muffins stick to the paper, and you want to eat these babies right out of the oven!
Mrs. Bug’s Buttermilk Drop Biscuits
It seemed rather a long time before Jamie reappeared, though the indignant cries of the searchers had been quickly stilled. If Jamie had got his bum smacked, Roger thought cynically, he appeared to have enjoyed it. A slight flush showed on the high cheekbones, and he wore a faint but definite air of satisfaction.
This was explained at once, though, when Jamie produced a small bundle from inside his shirt and unwrapped a linen towel, revealing half a dozen fresh biscuits, still warm, and dripping with melted butter and honey.
“I think perhaps Mrs. Bug meant them for the quilting circle,” he said, distributing the booty. “But there was plenty of batter left in the bowl; I doubt they’ll be missed.”
—The Fiery Cross, chapter 108, “Tulach Ard”
Tender, southern-style biscuits ready in a flash; no kneading or rolling required.
Makes 12
Ingredients
1 cup cold buttermilk
2 teaspoons honey
½ cup (1 stick) plus 2 tablespoons butter
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon baking soda
Method
Move a rack to the upper-middle rung and heat the oven to 450°F.
In a bowl, combine the cold buttermilk and honey. In a saucepan over medium heat, or in a dish in the microwave, heat a stick of butter until just melted. Pour the butter into the buttermilk-honey mixture and stir until well combined.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, salt, and baking soda for 1 minute to ensure that everything is evenly combined.
Add the lumpy buttermilk mixture to the dry ingredients and stir until just mixed and the batter pulls away from the side of the bowl. Use a lightly greased ¼ cup measure to scoop out level portions and drop onto an ungreased 9- or 10-inch cast-iron pan or cake pan—arrange three biscuits in the middle of the pan and nine biscuits around the outside.
Bake until the tops are golden, 15 to 17 minutes. Meanwhile, melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Brush the tops of the biscuits with the melted butter immediately out of the oven. Cool at least 5 minutes on a wire rack before serving.
Serve warm, drizzled with honey and even more butter, if your hips can handle it.
Note
• To make Mrs. Aberfeldy’s Blueberry Biscuits from The Fiery Cross (chapter 33, “Home for Christmas”), push a few frozen berries into each biscuit just before baking.
