Lemon-Glazed Blueberry Scones

with whole-wheat and buckwheat flour

Jul 6

People are often baffled by French ingredients and their American counterparts. I know, because I was one of those people. I arrived in France twenty years ago and had to learn what the differences were between T45, T65, T110, and T150 flours. (Spoiler: It’s ash and protein content.) I also had to scope out where to get moist brown sugar, called cassonade in France, and learn how it was different from the moist brown sugar sold as sucre vergeoise here.

But I wasn’t alone: Sometimes I’d wake up in the morning, open my email, and be startled by a message with the subject: EMERGENCY!!! Please HELP…NOW!!! Fearing the worst, a fire somewhere, a global war broke out, or a nuclear accident happened in my sleep, I’d open the email only to find that someone was trying to bake a batch of cookies and couldn’t figure out which flour to use, and my heart rate would return to near normal.

[Note: While no one values cookies more than me, cookies spreading in the oven don’t qualify as an emergency.]

One of my most popular blog posts became Ingredients for American Baking in Paris, which pleased my cardiologist as it stemmed the flow of “emergency” messages in my inbox. (Another was on French sugars.) People who didn’t live in France thought it was silly to write about adapting to other ingredients, but as a baker, I liked learning about what’s what, including French swap-outs for things like sour cream and brown sugar. Plus I’ve got readers outside of France, and it’s hard to tell someone to use crème fraîche or fromage blanc in a recipe when it costs 4x more outside of France…if it’s even available.

France is known for its great dairy products, from butter to cheese. And while I love and appreciate them all, there’s no sour cream. In its place is crème fraîche sold in every supermarket and grocery store. So I use “light” crème fraîche, which has around the same fat content and acidity as sour cream.

French cream also poses some challenges, yet it still doesn’t fall into the “emergency” category…unless you can’t find any (!). Store-bought French cream has less fat than the heavy cream in America, but it’s not enough to get anyone in a tizzy; I just swap out crème liquide (aka crème fluide or crème entière) for heavy cream. (But with all those names, it’s no wonder people are confused!)

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Confoundingly, almost all of the cream that you find in France is UHT (ultra-high pasteurized), and some of it is shelf-stable and doesn’t require refrigeration, even the cream that’s sold in fromageries. It’s a curious contrast to behold—to be in a fromagerie filled with glorious raw-milk cheeses, and they’re selling plastic bottles of sterilized milk and cream on the shelf, at room temperature.

Another thing that baffles people is “scones.” In America, they’re offered up as big, buttery biscuits, but when I was in Scotland, I had scones that were similar to American biscuits, sometimes with raisins. There’s even a difference in how it’s pronounced: In “British English,” they’re pronounced as skonz.

On the scone Wikipedia page, they describe the flavor and texture differences as well. For the American version, they’re described as “…sweet, heavy, dry, and crumbly,” so it’s no wonder they get a bad rap.

jj__mc

A post shared by Joshua McFadden (@jj__mc)

So when Joshua McFadden, author of Grains for Every Season, captioned an Instagram post (above), “Scones are actually NOT meant to be oversized, dried-out, sugar-crusted but flavorless disappointments…,” I opened up my copy of his book to take a look and bake up a batch.

One last thing that did baffle me for many years was American vs. French buckwheat flour. American buckwheat flour is whole-grain and has dark specks in it whereas French farine de sarrasin is refined and lighter in color than its darker American counterpart. No need to be alarmed, and either one will work in this recipe. So go for it!

Many of us were wowed by Joshua’s first book, Six Seasons. And when I got a preview of his newest book on grains (he asked to use one of my recipes in it), I was wowed enough to also offer a quote for the book jacket.

A number of “whole grains” books have come out, but sometimes they feel a bit triste, as one might say in French—or sad. Joshua’s grain book is alive with enthusiasm and exciting to read.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more fun and engaging book about cooking with grains. If Super-Crisp Flatbread That Tastes Like Cheez-Its; Perfect Soft Polenta; Whole Wheat Angel Food Cake, with Sprinkles!; Popcorn with your choice of “Cracker Jack” seasoning, “Cool Ranch,” or Coconut Curry; Meatloaf with Barley and Mushrooms; and Broccoli, Tuna, and Wheat Berry Gratin aren’t exciting to you, you might want to check to see if you have a pulse.

The scones were easy to make, and the book offers a page of five different glazes, everything from tangy lemon to maple and nut butter, as well as a list of ideas for mix-ins. I went with the blueberry and lemon combo, a duo that didn’t disappoint.

Lemon-Glazed Blueberry Scones

Makes 12

Adapted from Grains for Every Season by Joshua McFadden with Martha Holmberg

Joshua’s recipe promises non-clunky, light scones, rather than the usual butter bombs, and it delivers. They’re flavorful and not-too-sweet, especially if you skip the glaze—but if you ask me, I think you should treat yourself to it.

I haven’t tried mixing this by hand, but if you don’t have a food processor, you could use a pastry blender or a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, working quickly to get the butter cut into very small, sandy pieces. (Chilling the flours first, and grating in the cold butter might help achieve that goal if you don’t have a speedy food processor.)

And although the recipe didn’t call for it, next time I’m going to grate the zest of one or two lemons right into the flour mixture along with the blueberries.

For the scones

1 1/3 cups (180g) all-purpose flour

3/4 cup (110g) buckwheat flour

1/2 cup (70g) whole-wheat flour

1/3 cup (65g) granulated sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder (preferably aluminum-free)

1 teaspoon kosher (Diamond Crystal) or sea salt

4 ounces (115g) unsalted butter, cold, cut into cubes

3/4 cup (180ml) heavy cream, plus 1-2 tablespoons more, if needed

1/2 cup (120g) sour cream

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 cup (150g) blueberries (if using frozen, don’t defrost before using)

zest of one or two lemons (optional, but recommended)

For the lemon glaze

1 cup (115g) powdered sugar (sifted if lumpy)

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup (50g) granulated sugar

3 tablespoons heavy cream

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, cubed

zest of 1 lemon

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

In the bowl of a food processor, pulse together the three flours, granulated sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the cold cubes of butter and pulse until the mixture is sandy, with perhaps a few discernible pieces of butter.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the heavy cream, sour cream, and vanilla extract.
Transfer the flour mixture to a large bowl. Add the cream mixture and stir a couple of times with a spatula (or large spoon), then add the blueberries and lemon zest, if using.
Continue to stir the mixture until it looks and feels like it’s not going to come together with a spatula, then dump it out onto the countertop and work the dough until it comes together into a relatively smooth mound.
The best way to do this is to use a pastry or dough scraper to lift the dough around from the edges, and fold it upward, then inward, over itself. (You can also use a flat metal pancake turner or similar kitchen tool.) You want to cajole, rather than knead, the dough, working it as gently as possible and using just enough pressure to get it to hold together. If the dough is very dry and it’s not coming together, add a tablespoon or two of cream. You don’t want the dough too wet or over-kneaded, though.
Divide the dough into two pieces and shape each piece of dough into a 6-inch (15cm) round. Set the disks on a parchment paper-lined (or plastic wrap–lined, or an eco-friendly-alternative-lined) baking sheet or platter and freeze them for 30 minutes. (The dough can be wrapped completely and refrigerated overnight.)
[Joshua says if you want to freeze the dough longer, cut the dough into triangles, in the next step, and freeze those.]
To bake the scones, preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and use a chef’s knife or pastry scraper to cut each disk of dough into six equal triangles.
Place the pieces of dough on the baking sheet, evenly spaced apart, leaving a few inches between them, and bake until they are lightly golden brown across the top, about 18 to 20 minutes. Let cool for a few minutes, then transfer to a wire cooling rack.
While the scones are baking, make the glaze by whisking together the powdered sugar and salt in a small bowl. In a small saucepan, heat the granulated sugar, cream, and butter over low-medium heat, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat and add half of the fresh lemon zest and the lemon juice.
While the scones are still slightly warm, smear or dribble the lemon glaze over the tops, smoothing it with a spatula, butter knife, or back of a spoon, if desired. Scatter the remaining lemon zest over the top.
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