Anti-Anxiety Whole Wheat Trail Mix Scones

I'm getting married on Saturday.  Hopefully that explains my post title a bit. I've been swept up lately in the fun of party planning and bridal showers and excitement. This particular morning, though, it all came crashing down on my pre-coffee brain: oh my goodness, I don't have a dress for the after party!  What will my parents do while I'm at my bachelorette party? Where will my sister's dog sleep?  Oh my gosh, I have totally lost my veil.  Oh, no, wait there it is. (This has, unfortunately, crossed my anxiety-ridden pre-wedding brain with practically every essential item of my wedding wardrobe.) And then, breakfast. I was hungry, one cup of coffee down, one real meal to go. Usually on a lazy Saturday or Sunday, the answer is simple: I make muffins.

Yet this Sunday, there I was, facing a bowl full of 2 cups of flour per recipe possibility #1 and Googling yet another permutation of "whole wheat muffin recipe" in the hopes that just one of them would yield muffins I could make from ingredients at my new house, where my fiance currently lives, without running back to my old house, where I currently live, at which point I may as well just go to the store. That's when it hit me: this is not fun today. I only cook when it's fun. My tummy is a demanding little thing in the mornings, though, and cereal and milk just won't cut it. Scones were the answer.

2 cups flour? Sure that'll work. Oatmeal for texture. Baking powder, no baking soda necessary (good thing, too, because the only box in the house is currently busy deodorizing the fridge and is therefore forbidden from having anything to do with my scones). Butter, 1 stick. Milk. I would have liked buttermilk but whatchagonnado. Trail mix because I didn't have raisins. Eggs. And you know what? 20 minutes later, there they were. My scones. Eaten somewhat ravenously slathered with butter and jam and black coffee for company's sake.  Barely sweet, wonderfully crunchy.

This time next week I will be married. My dress will be packed, my hair washed, my friends on their way home. And I will be married.

I think I need another scone.

Butter + jam? Always.

Anti-Anxiety Whole Wheat Trail Mix Scones

• 2 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
• 1/2 cup old-fashioned oatmeal
• 1/3 cup white sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup trail mix, a natural nuts-and-seeds variety, or any combination of dried fruits and nuts to total 1/2 cup.
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, unsalted, cold and cubed (keep this in the fridge until just before you make the scones)
• 1/2 cup dairy (I used lactose-free milk because that's what was in the fridge, but ideally I would have liked buttermilk, sour cream, or plain yogurt, in that order)
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.
2. Mix together the dry ingredients with a fork or whisk.
3. Cut your butter lengthwise into four long pieces, like a checkerboard cookie, then cut off the butter in "pats" so you have little butter cubes. Try not to handle the butter too much as you want it to melt as little as possible before scone meets oven.  
4. I cut my butter into the flour with my hands (this is part of the stress relief), but a fork or pastry blender works great here (I never could get the two knives thing down).
5. Make a little well in the middle of your dry ingredients and add the eggs and milk into the well.  Stir briskly with a fork until a soft dough forms. Try to stir up from the bottom of the bowl as you work so you can incorporate all the bits of flour from the bottom of the bowl.
6. Dump directly onto a cookie sheet or jelly roll pan (I used the Goldtouch nonstick sheet from Williams-Sonoma, which did a beautiful job of browning). Knead only enough to gather the dough together and pat into a round 8 inches around and 1 1/2 inches high. Score the dough into 8 wedges using a sharp chef's knife or bench scraper by cutting almost, but not quite, all the way through the dough.
7. Bake for 8 minutes.  Turn the oven off and leave the scones in the oven for another 10 minutes.

Sweet Potato, Black Bean and Kale Enchilada Pie

"Tell me what you eat and I'll tell you who you are."
~A. Brillat-Savarin

I find recipes terribly difficult to follow.  1/2 teaspoon of vanilla? That's silly, I need at least a tablespoon. It calls for applesauce? I'm sure bananas will work just fine (I am never out of bananas). While I call this habit quirky and charming and a mark of my superior chef-liness, this quality tends to drive my fiance and anyone else sharing a kitchen with me slightly bonkers. The truth is that my riff on recipes turn out quite tasty 98% of the time (the other 2% I'm usually talking to my sister on the phone).

Following a recipe is a bit like learning to drive: even the best teacher's instructions give only a conceptual grasp of the topic. At some point, learning to drive and making your mother's famous pecan pie both take a certain leap of faith.  Those two seconds of uncertainty that bridge the gap between knowledge and instinct creates true mastery; suddenly you are no longer making your mother's pecan pie, but your enchilada pie.  No, it won't taste exactly the same and that's the beauty of it.

The poetry of recipes lies in their reflection of their creator. Even the most dutifully tested recipes cannot convey exactly how many turns around the bowl the chef took to fold in the egg whites and very few bother to mention whether she cleaned every stitch of batter out of the bowl with her scraper or left a few scrapes in for snacking. Have you ever notice how many pictorial recipes exist for making biscuits?  That substantial-yet-melt-in-your-mouth quality of the quintessential Southern biscuit seems to be a dying skill right up their with caning chair backs (which has nothing to do with beating them) and writing thank-you notes. That particular feather in my culinary cap still manages to elude me and is one of the tasks I plan to conquer on this blog with the help of my readers and my beloved copy of The New Best Recipe, right along with angel food cake and the perfectly delicious Saturday morning whole grain muffin.

For now, though, this simple weeknight meal will suffice. I made it one evening when I was feeling particularly frugal (ok, my fiance was being the frugal one, I was craving my favorite repast at our neighborhood watering hole: chicken nachos and the beer of the moment). The recipe as follows is the way I actually made it that night; next time I think I'll add some enchilada sauce and a few more veggies and I'm sure this would be even tastier with fresh sweet potato roasted to optimal mushy yumminess. The kale plays surprisingly well against the sweet potato and adds an extra flavor element which rounds out the pie beautifully. Let me know how yours turns out in the comments section below.  It is, after all, your recipe.

Sweet Potato, Black bean, and Kale Enchilada Pie

• 1 can (29 oz) sweet potatoes, rinsed to remove extra syrup and mashed
• 6 whole grain flour tortillas
• 1 can (15 oz.) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 3 cups kale, rinsed and chopped
• 1 onion, sliced and sauteed until translucent
• 1 15-oz jar medium salsa
• 1 cup grated cheddar or colby jack (Cotija would also be lovely!)

1. Preheat the oven to 350. 
2. Place one tortilla in the bottom of a deep-dish 10 inch pie pan. Cover with a thin even layer of mashed sweet potato. Top with 1/3 of the cooked onion, 1/3 of the can of black beans, 1 cup of kale, and 1/3 of the salsa, in that order. (You can add some cheese if you like but I usually save mine for the top)
3. Cover the ingredients with another layer of tortillas, tearing them as necessary to fill the pan to the edges. Repeat the layering of ingredients twice more until all ingredients are used and the pie pan is filled to the top.  Cover generously with cheese.
4. Bake for 20-30 minutes or until the cheese on top is your desired level of browned, burnt, and bubbly (I like my steak medium rare but my cheese well done).

*Note: this recipe can easily be made vegan by using soy cheese and vegan tortillas.