Cinnamon Chip, Raspberry, Blueberry and when fall hits, one of my favorites, Pumpkin. I truly love scones. And if you put butter on them or now, let's really get sexy, fresh clotted cream (You can't get that in Starbucks, only in England's West Country or at a fine NYC Afternoon Tea, perhaps.) then they taste sooooo heavenly. There's nothing like a fresh scone to turn around that monster score in golf, low percentages in five rounds of bridge hands or a losing tennis match to an opponent with a soft serve, dingy shots and loopy balls.
If I had a particularly miserable day, I would order two and save one for later. Is there a more high quality comfort food, floury, sweet scones with bits of blueberries or raspberries (my only fruit serving for the day) and that pumpkin spice reminding me of Thanksgiving goodness (The holiday often coincides with my birthday.)? These beauties always quelled my nerves and soothed my anxiety about something or other. Doughy, sumptuous treats were better than Doritos or chips when I was in a rainy, cloud funk or rank, debilitating angst. I saved salty crunch to reward myself after I lost some weight. Then I'd turn my place into a binge bistro for two indulgent days, gorging on The Unhealthy" and "The Processed," and anything verboten on the smarmy, self-absorbed diet I had released myself from until I forced myself to go back on it after my strategic glutton fest.
So much for self-help, self-medication and self-satisfaction. After scarfing the scone, I'd feel loagy, bloated and lethargic. I'd have to crash on a sofa, or chair while my digestive juices tried to neutralize those "high quality" carbs and failed. One or two hours later, I'd wake up from my stupor hungry and remember I had been too tired to go shopping earlier right after work (and a scone). I'd order take-out, faux Chinese around 7:00 pm. (According to my friend, Amy who is from Hong Kong, though Chinese fast food "may" taste good, my puerile Caucasian palate is showing; that is not real and delicious Chinese cuisine!) And after my beef and broccoli and some fried rice, maybe two hours later, I'd finish the second scone watching Charlie Rose, The Daily Show or Colbert Report.
Hello! What was I thinking? That's just it. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't even conscious. First, eating carbs late at night? Duh...they go right into taxing insulin manufacture. Did I want to increase my chances of diabetes? Second, do you know how many calories are in a scone or how many carbs? Blueberry: 460 calories, a whopping 61 carb grams; Cinnamon Chip: 480 calories and humongous 70 carb grams; Raspberry: 500 calories and 59 carb grams (Gee...11 fewer carbs than the Cinnamon.). And my wonderful Pumpkin: I've seen it listed in the case for 500 calories (480 on the website) but 78 carb grams. I always had the knack for choosing the highest caloric and carbed foods to enjoy out of a vast selection. By the by, the Maple Oat Pecan and Orange Cranberry, not offered in our area are equally egregious. There is NO SCONE under 400 calories and 59 carb grams.
Medication to unruffle my agitation? The flour in the scones kicked my gluten allergy up high and lowered my ability to quickly metabolize the jolt in sugar, flour and oils. Great pick- me up for a linebacker. What a depressant for me. From the time I finished one scone and the initial fix wore off in sonambulance, to the time I desserted the second scone after dinner, I was so disgusted with myself and guilt laden, I would slink off to bed unable to enjoy John Stewart's humorous guest interview or register Charlie Rose's savvy commentary. A pox on you scones!!! Then, not a week later, I'd repeat my overeating enterprise. I couldn't get out of my own way, you see!
After years of this, I learned of my gluten allergy. The scones do have the pox. I am free of them. Now, when I saunter past their alluring temptation in the glass case, I look at all of the bakery items and smile. Then I pick up a banana or small bag of nuts to have with my venti, nonfat, wet cappuccino. Why don't you do the same?
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