Waking up with the rising sun glistening on the lake, my siblings and I would run barefoot down the gravel path to the beach and into the musty boat house to meet Joe, who would bring us out water skiing. We would each gasp as our shivering, goosebump-clad bodies plopped into the chilly water, waking up the lake with the first ripple of the day. A lazy morning would follow, starting with a basket of warm scones sitting patiently on the red and white checkered breakfast table.

I always snatched the blueberry one before anyone else could and wrapped my fingers tightly around the mug of piping hot Lipton tea to will the early morning chill out of my bones.

It was golden brown and firm on the outside but pillowy inside, and each bite came with the sweet crunch of large sugar crystals baked on top.

On some mornings, the scones were followed by silver dollar pancakes drenched in maple syrup, or heaping bowls of steel-cut oats speckled with raisins and brown sugar. And other mornings, fluffy scrambled eggs with buttered toast.

But regardless of what we chose, breakfast always, always started with scones.

The remainder of the day was spent reading, talking, and dozing off on the dock as it rocked from side to side. If the wind was in our favor, we would spend the afternoon sailing in a figure-eight loop. Come early evening, most of the families would head up to shower before venturing into the lodge for dinner. But we would linger just a little bit longer. At this point, the beach would be littered with toys, half destroyed sand castles, and forgotten towels pressed between the plastic blue flaps of the beach chairs. Wrapped snugly in the ever-so-slightly damp towels, we would strategically shift into patches of lingering sunlight and stare lovingly at the now docile body of blue inviting us day-after-day to unplug, exhale, and do absolutely nothing besides “be.”

So when I think about Lake George, I am overwhelmed with a feeling of peace, and calm, and the rare feeling that there’s no other place in the world I’d rather be. So I developed this scone recipe. Because some foods, flavors, or combinations of flavors have an incredible ability to bring you back — to a place, an emotion, an experience.

And for me, it’s blueberry scones.

These come with pops of juicy blueberries, fragrant rosemary, subtle hints of lemon zest, and wholesome, nutty spelt flour. Sweetened with just a tad bit of raw honey, they’re versatile and light enough to eat all day long.

Blueberry Spelt Scones with Rosemary and Lemon

Ingredients:

• 1 Egg
• 1/2 Cup Unsweetened Almond Milk
• 1 Teaspoon Lemon Zest
• 2 Tablespoons Raw Honey, melted
• 2 Cups Spelt Flour
• 1 Tablespoon Baking Powder
• 1/2 Teaspoon Baking Soda
• Dash Sea Salt
• 1 Tablespoon Fresh Rosemary, roughly chopped
• 5 Tablespoons Room Temperature Coconut Oil
• 1/3 Cup Frozen Blueberries

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 375°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together egg, almond milk, lemon zest, and honey.
3. In a separate bowl, combine spelt flour, baking powder, baking soda, sea salt, and rosemary.
4. Incorporate room temperature coconut oil into flour mixture, then slowly pour in almond milk mixture.
5. Fold in blueberries, then transfer dough to baking sheet. Wet your hands to make it easier to shape the dough into a circle, then score into 6 triangular wedges.
6. Bake until golden brown on the outside and moist but cooked through on the inside 30-35 minutes.

*Recipe loosely adapted from Minimalist Baker

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

• What’s one of your “food memories?”
• What’s your favorite type of scone?

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