Light, fluffy, crumbly scones

Daffy
Mar 14, 2015
3 min read

Friends and family have been asking if we're all settled into Cambridge. I must admit I don't really know what it means to be really 'settled' in. When we found a roof over our head? When we started cooking our own meals? When we got internet? (That took a while, and I hear that's to be expected here.) Perhaps a surer sign was when Ed and I started taking short overnight vacations. That's as long as we're comfortable leaving the cats alone. Sometimes I think Ed misses the cats more than he is worried something will go wrong, but I digress.

We've done one in London, on the pretext of visiting Ed's cousin, but really to visit my all-time favourite Borough market where we pigged out. (More on that next time.) Then just over the weekend, we went to visit my alma mater in Coventry.

It felt really odd, being back as a tourist and not having any of the privileges I used to enjoy - like discounted food and beverage from the cafes, or this feeling that I belonged and had the right to venture into all the nooks and crannies of the university. It was also oddly emotional for me. I did have fond memories of my time in the university, but they were mostly of the times spent with friends over homecooked meals in the kitchens or hanging out in their rooms. Yet, as I was introducing Ed to the different parts of the university, I actually felt a yearning to return.

But I digress, again.

We stayed at the Jacobean Hotel in Coventry as Ed got a good deal, and saw numerous good reviews of the food. We shouldn't have been so surprised to be turned away from a packed restaurant when we arrived. So we made it a point to return the next day for tea, and fortunately we did.

It was a typical British tea set up, with three tiers of food - one for scones, one for sandwiches, and one for an assortment of cakes. The tea was hot and strong, not like those sad versions which turn beige or a pale shade of translucent brown on the addition of milk. And there was a basin full of sugar, with no judgemental eyes as I ladled two full teaspoons of sugar into my quite dainty teacup.

But the highlight of the tea was the scones with clotted cream. The clotted cream arrived first - an entire ramekin full of it. It was so creamy, rich and behaved almost like melted cheese, with little wispy strands dangling from it as we scooped it up.

But when the scones arrived, we couldn't be happier. Four delicate warm scones sat at the bottom of the three-tiered stand. I usually have less than my fair share of food when eating with Ed, because well, he is about 1.5 times my size and weight with double, or sometimes triple, my appetite. But there was no such thing with these warm crumbly scones, especially when I had abundant clotted cream and raspberry jam to help myself to. Peppered with just the right amount of raisins per scone, and being only slightly sweet, it was the highlight of the tea. The sandwiches and cakes faded into its shadow.