The particular comfort of scones

October 6, 2013 § Leave a comment

I did not grow up in a house with a mother who baked homemade cookies or apple pies made from scratch.  I did not grow up in a house with a mother at all, and when I did see her, at her house with its big kitchen, she always preferred real cooking — chili, grilled veggies, tacos, pasta — to baked goods.  We did cinnamon rolls that popped out of a can and funfetti cake from a boxed mix, but even those were rare.  Better instead to buy ice cream from the fast food place by the swimming pool — after all, it was summers when I saw my mother most, and who in 90-degree weather wants hot cookies fresh from the oven when you could have a cone of soft-serve instead?  If I craved chocolate chips, well, there was always Chips Ahoy.

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  • Molly Keran

    I'm a twentysomething-year-old wannabe writer living and working in San Francisco. I like modernist literature, vegetarian food, murder mysteries, and Vincent van Gogh. I'm from Nebraska and will never shut up about it. Find more of my writing at Loose Leaves.
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