Isabel Sharpe: Romancing the Scone

My husband and I just returned from an idyllic trip to Ireland.  I expected the green fields and sheep, but was totally unprepared for the remarkable drama of the western coast and the welcoming charm of the people.  We fell utterly in love with the place—and with having a pint in a pub before dinner every night.

So many favorite moments, but one of the best was on a mid-morning drive (on the left!) on a twisty narrow road around the tip of the Dingle Peninsula, roaring ocean on one side, mountains on the other.  We passed an ancient stone house with a sign, "Home Baking."  The day was damp and cold and we were hungry, so we stopped.  Inside, a low-ceilinged room with two tables and a couple of easy chairs in front of a lovely fire.  The owners, an elderly couple, served us excellent tea and just-baked scones.  We sat there, warm and cozy, feeling part of something foreign and very, very old.  And then, blaring from the kitchen, Neil Young's Southern Man.  A small world after all.

The sad truth is, after such an enchanting time . . . we had to come home.  Thirty-three degrees here in Wisconsin the day we landed, April 15.  We wanted nothing more than to climb back on the plane and return to the bed and breakfast that served scones, brown bread with butter and jam, fresh orange juice, assorted fruits, yoghurt, muesli, amazing cheeses and then an enormous hot breakfast.

Back home, in a somewhat crazed effort to keep the magic going, I scoured the Internet for brown bread recipes and made a worthy version.  I baked scones.  I made muesli, beef and Guinness stew and a dessert called Eton Mess (here I’d like to point out that as of this writing, we have been back for only four days.  I was obsessed).

However, by last night, inevitably, the trip’s magic had faded into all we had to do and catch up on and be responsible for here in our real lives.  Ewww!  So this morning I put down placemats, China and silver, and arranged the leftover scones, muesli, yoghurt and fruit onto and into elegant serving pieces.  I offered our orange juice from a small crystal pitcher and milk from a china one.  My tea and my husband’s coffee I poured out into proper tea cups.  With saucers.

And you know what?  In spite of seven thousand extra dishes to wash afterward (where was that B&B staff?), it was a really lovely escape back into fantasy.  We made a pact to remind ourselves that it only takes a little extra effort to transform the ordinary routine into something more special.  A good lesson learned.  Think how many more there must be!  Clearly we need to visit several more countries to search them out.

If anyone would like the recipe for scones and/or brown bread, please let me know!  And I would love to hear how you keep your lives from sinking too far into the ordinary.  My favorite response gets a copy of my April Harlequin Blaze, Nothing to Hide.

Cheers and happy travels, armchair or otherwise,

Isabel
www.IsabelSharpe.com

*** Isabel's winner is Renee! Please email totebag@authorsoundrelations.com with your mailing info.***