It is almost Mother’s Day. I don’t often write about motherhood, but for in passing, which is funny because it’s the most prominent feature of my life. It’s even bigger than food. It’s so implicit in the fabric of my life that I don’t even think to talk about it, or don’t know where to start. It’s like writing about my own hands.
I’ll start here. I am the mama of a little boy named Joah. He is three and three-quarters. He is a Leo and very much a Leo indeed. While Kyle and I try to be low-key about the way we eat, he is never-the-less, a staunch vegetarian. He likes Lions…ferocious animals in general. Our way of being together is a kind of friendship. Sometimes we play, but mostly we observe our respective activities parallel to one another. And we talk. He plays while I perform my various tasks; sometimes he helps me cook. It’s all very simple, but I wouldn’t call it prosaic. He picks flowers and brings them to me. We go outside. We jump on the trampoline, each standing on the edge, leaning against the net, to let the other do their “highest jump”. He is funny and wise. He has strong legs. He tests my patience daily. Sometimes my patience wins.
Motherhood has changed me. It has made me more myself. It has stripped away mechanisms of smallness, ways in which I bargained with the world for acceptance. It let my hippie out of the closet. Shit man, I am one hippie-dip, spiritually-inclined human. You have no idea how long I tried to be less spiritual. More cynical. Isn’t that ridiculous? And exhausting.
I think the magic of motherhood is in the love. Joah has changed me, the person that he is has transformed who I am, there is no doubt about that. But the love itself has altered me. In loving someone so completely and without terms, I find myself more capable of loving. And not the love that we chose to dole out to the people who we determine to be our own, but the kind of love that boundlessly flows out to all things. The kind of love that knows no tribe.
My journey as a mom started as a great act of relinquishing. I became pregnant on the younger side, just after I got married (also on the younger side). I had other plans for my life at that moment, plans (read: tickets) to go to India with my new husband. I was in another gear and had to shift quickly. It was painful to know how it looked, like I had made a turn too soon. But I knew deep in my being, that it was a good turn, it was the turn. It was the most defining, beautiful turn of my life.
My initiation into motherhood taught me of the beauty of flowing with the unexpected. In denying things that are outside of our plan, we can miss the magic. In fact we will miss the magic. Magic never, ever lives inside the plan. It hates plans. And what do we really know about proper timing, anyway? I thought I had a good plan until a better one came along and hit me in the face. That plan was teeming with magic. And poop-y diapers.
I made these scones because scones are a super mom-ish breakfast food. If you decide to make them for your mom, I ask that you eat them outside on a blanket, for magic’s sake. Magic likes picnics and I think your mom will also.
Happy Mother’s Day, mamas…And I mean all you mamas: grandmamas, adoptive mamas, step mamas, dog and cat mamas…These scones are for you.
I love you.
- 1¾ cups white spelt flour
- 1¼ whole spelt
- ⅔ cup coconut palm sugar
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- ½ teaspoon fine grain sea salt
- 3 tablespoons finely graded lemon zest, see note
- ½ cup solid coconut oil, packed and leveled
- 1 generous cup of coconut cream, scooped from the top of a can of full fat coconut milk that has been refrigerated until cold
- 2 tablespoons almond milk, plus more for brushing the tops
- 2 cups frozen raspberries (they hold up better than fresh ones in this stiff dough!)
- Preheat oven to 425°.
- In a mixer fitted with a paddle, combine dry ingredients and stir on low to blend. Chill the bowl with the dry ingredients in the freezer for 10 minutes or until cold. Remove from freezer and add the lemon zest and coconut oil by the tablespoon and continue to mix until none of the coconut oil bits are larger than the size of a pea. You can rub any large bits in between your fingers to break them up.
- Transfer to a large bowl and fit the mixer with the whisk attachment. Whisk the coconut cream on medium high until creamy and a bit fluffy, about a minute.
- Make a well in the center of your dry ingredients and add the coconut cream and almond milk. Fold the ingredients together until combined. The mixture will be dry, you want just enough liquid for it to come together and no more. Pinch some dough between your fingers and if it stays together, move on to the next step, if it crumbles, add more almond milk by the tablespoon, folding it in between additions.
- Add the raspberries and fold them in to combine. Dump the whole thing out onto a clean countertop and knead by hand once or twice, working in stray raspberries. Gather into two equally sized balls.
- Lightly flour your countertop and flatten dough into disks about an inch thick. Using a long knife, cut the disks into 6 equal wedges. Arrange the wedges on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and paint with almond milk.
- Bake for 14 – 18 minutes until just beginning to brown.
- Let cool before serving. Best eaten the same day.