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My name is Lucy and I have never blogged before. Well that's a lie. I have, but it was this one, and I neglected it for a little while... I live in a commuter town outside London having moved here about a year and a half ago after making some pretty big changes in my life. I share a beautiful little cottage on the Grand Union Canal with 1 crazy beautiful little girl and an equally crazy cat called Bandit (appropriately named as he now lives in all the houses on the street and steals...). Lawyer/working mum and it would appear, terminally single (I've reserved my spinster plaque already) I was fortunate to escape the evil commute about a year ago but seem to have less time than ever.... If I entertain you, make you laugh or fume (or make you have an emotion of ANY description) then my job is done. Enjoy x

Monday 19 March 2012

I'm a GIANT


I've always been obsessed with things that aren't the "right" size be it miniature things (like mini-jaffa-cakes where I can pretend I'm a giant) or things on the enormo scale (so mancakes and fishbowl cocktails).  As a kid I remember watching "The Borrowers" and "Willy Wonker and the Chocolate Factory" (the original of course! Can you imagine it...going into that room with the chocolate river, the giant lollipops, the edible tea cups, the enormous gummy bears....) and obsessing over the possibilities of chocolate chips the size of my head.  Seriously, as a kid this was my idea of heaven but then I was a sweetie fiend.  My mum used to find sweet wrappers stuffed in my Popple whilst I proclaimed my innocence and blamed Teddy Ruxbin

This past Sunday was Mothering Sunday in the UK so my sibs (and my Pa) and I had the fateful discussion about what to do for Ma.  Every time we've attempted to go out for Mothers Day it has always been tricky, usually because we have to cater to my Nan's very strange foodisms and it stresses my Mum out (Nan refuses to eat butter (but carries her own butter knife in her purse)* or anything she deems as fat but will quite happily tuck into any sort of cake and will eat cream on its own).  Not to mention I'm a football widow on Sunday anyway and the thought of dealing with Nan, my Mum's angst and my Tasmanian devil is enough to make me run for the hills.  I therefore put the kibosh on it straightaway and suggested we cook at home and I'd also bake.  Job done.  And then true to form I went a step ahead and suggested we also do afternoon tea...so I've roped myself into making little cakes too.  Why do I always get so ahead of myself and over commit???

No afternoon tea would be complete without scones.  In fact, I'd personally feel cheated without them!  So last Sunday the first thing I set about making was the scones.  Not just any scones though.  We were going to be eating a few cakes and since I do love things in miniature, I made bite size scones. 

Again, I'm too lazy to type the recipe up so the recipe is below.  I'm not sure where its from, I know its from one of my mum's old tomes and I have a feeling its a Delia but I'm just not sure.


I made the recipe as directed although I have to say the dough was pretty sticky so I ended up adding more flour.  Hubby claimed this made the resulting scones more savoury and like American style biscuits but my family said they enjoyed them.  Perhaps this is the difference between the English and American palate (listen to me sounding all knowledgeable!).

I don't have any cutters so I used a shot glass
(I have no cookie or cake cutters but I have a ton of shot glasses - standard)



Serve warm and fill with jam and clotted cream!


I took 8 of the little scones, placed them into an airtight container and put them in the freezer for Sunday.  I then simply let them defrost for 24hrs and served them up with the afternoon tea (see later posts).  They fared pretty well in the freezer so look like a good recipe to make ahead of time if need be.

I also did a little taste testing and personally, I thought they were nom.


* I am not even joking.  She got flagged at Heathrow airport for carrying a knife - on her way to my wedding - in the USA - post 9.11.01 - and then had her knives (yes PLURAL butter knives, they found another one in her HANDBAG) confiscated.  Don't even try to understand my Nan. Tip.Of.The.Iceberg.

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