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Cheddar Dill Scones

September 1, 2011

I feel like someone stuck their fist down my throat and yanked out my heart. Gory, I know. Or like someone ran over me with a Mac truck and then backed up a few times to run over me again.

Not only did we lose our mother 16 months ago, but I got that horrifyingly devastating phone call last Monday night from my brother. I had a productive Monday. It was productive at work. I wrote a few blog posts. I went on a nice 3-mile jog around the new neighborhood. It was a good jog. The kind of jog where I pushed myself to actually run up the hill. Not walk it. I did my laundry. I poured myself a glass of wine. I was heating up this amazing lasagna the ‘Puter Hub and I concocted the night before. In our basement kitchen, no less. (More on that later.)

My brother called me in hysterics. Our world was rocked yet again. My heart pounded. My whole body was shaking.

“What? Who died? What? Are you sure? No. No. What are you talking about? Stop joking around, Russell. Richard, call the police. Find out what’s going on. I will call Alice … But, he was healthy. I don’t understand. No. This can’t be happening. No. This is not happening. What? No. No.”

I am 28 years old and both of my parents are gone. One, a prolonged, sufferable death from cancer. The other, a heart malfunction, instantaneous.

The pillars who served as the foundation of our family have crumbled. Insert another cliche here.

It’s truly a terrifying thought that they are no longer with us. They were such amazing people.

But, we are strong.

Or, so am I told.

We will push through.

We have to.

We have a tough road ahead of us.

So I am told, yet again.

But, we will get through it.

That’s what they taught us.

The irony of it all is that I was drafting a post on funeral etiquette the other day. There seems to be a void in the Internet funeral etiquette arena and I was going to help fuel the void with a post on what to say and what not to say at a funeral. The last email from my dad was on funeral etiquette.

The world works in mysterious ways.

The last conversation I had with him was regarding our house renovation, a Margaritaville golf tournament and dining room tables.

It was a pleasant conversation. Most conversations with my dad were pleasant. I am thankful for that.

We had multiple conversations around food and what we were going to make for the next family gathering. On one of the gatherings, I brought scones. Barefoot Contessa’s cheddar dill scones. I used the KitchenAid mixer my dad gave me.

It’s the last Christmas gift that I will ever get from my dad. He was always so thoughtful. He knew I would use it. I suppose he will get a kick out of watching me swear and bake from up in heaven.

Who knew a silly appliance could have so much meaning?

Life will go on. Baked goods will be made. Food will be consumed. Laughter will erupt. Promises to make my posts a bit more lighter than this one will happen. Humor will continue.

Until then, enjoy some cheddar dill scones from the KitchenAid mixer my dad gave me.

Cheesy, I know.

No pun intended.

Cheddar Dill Scones

  • 4 cups plus 1 tablespoon flour, divided
  • 2 tablespoons baking powder
  • 2 teaspoons salt
  • 3/4 pound cold unsalted butter, diced
  • 4 extra-large eggs, beaten lightly
  • 1 cup cold heavy cream
  • 1/2 pound extra-sharp yellow Cheddar, small-diced
  • 1 cup minced fresh dill
  • 1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water or milk, for egg wash

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Combine 4 cups of flour, the baking powder, and salt in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Add the butter and mix on low speed until the butter is in pea-sized pieces. Mix the eggs and heavy cream and quickly add them to the flour-and-butter mixture. Combine until just blended. Toss together the Cheddar, dill, and 1 tablespoon of flour and add them to the dough. Mix until they are almost incorporated.

Dump the dough onto a well-floured surface and knead it for 1 minute, until the Cheddar and dill are well distributed. Roll the dough 3/4-inch thick. Cut into 4-inch squares and then in half diagonally to make triangles. Brush the tops with egg wash. Bake on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper for 20 to 25 minutes, until the outside is crusty and the inside is fully baked.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. Barbara Brown permalink
    September 1, 2011 3:23 pm

    😥 I know Evie. I know the loss and sadness. Love, Peace and Sympathy to you and your family.

  2. Becky permalink
    September 1, 2011 4:51 pm

    Beautiful. Just beautiful.

  3. Mike Dickman permalink
    September 5, 2011 7:47 pm

    I am thankful I got to know your Dad. I am thankful to him for the impression he made on both of my parents and the friendship he shared with my father. I am thankful too for the time he did get to spend with his children, to teach them and to prepare them for all that life has to offer, good and not so good. And, I am thankful for the gift of the KitchenAid mixer; for without it, we may have never had to chance to get this cheesy recipe. Pun intended.

  4. September 18, 2011 1:52 am

    So sorry for your loss Evie!

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