Utah scones and other regional treats

When I first tasted a Utah scone, at the tender age of 21, I thought “what the hell is this???”  I’d been raised in the middle-Atlantic east coast, so to me sweet, fattening, not-good-for-you items consisted of Tastykakes (butterscotch krimpets – YUM) or PA dutch sticky buns (which we called cinnamon buns, I’ll get to that misnomer later).  I had spent a summer in the Pacific northwest where I had been introduced to “real” scones, whatever they are, and thought they were interestingly good.  So, I ordered a scone….again, “what the hell was that???” 

A name is only a name is only a name.  You don’t think how very regionalized the US is until you move throughout the regions and find out what the locals call something.  Is it pop, or is it soda, or is it sodapop?  Do you want a bag for that or a sack?  Do you have a baby tender or a baby sitter watch your kids?  What is a hoppy taw?  Whew!

Back to scones….   The scone I had been given was a hunk of deep fried bread.  I wasn’t sure if it was yeast bread or biscuit bread, although I found out later it was most likely yeast bread.  I actually like bread of most kinds, but I’d never had it deep fried before.  It was actually pretty tasty, once I got past my shock.  They are served dripping in butter, with a squirt bottle of honey butter, just in case there aren’t enough saturated fats for your liking, and to increase your blood sugar so you don’t notice your arteries clogging.  I didn’t fall in love with the taste, but they were pretty good so every few years I would order one to add to my early demise from heart disease.  At the not so tender age of 62, this morning I just made my first successful fried bread scone.  Just threw a flattened lump of yeast bread into hot vegetable oil, watched it bounce around and brown for a few minutes, split it in half, spread some of my diet butter (can’t believe it’s not butter light) and drizzled a bit of honey onto it.  Wow, it worked, and it was darned good.  My husband liked them too.  I won’t make them very often because I’m closer to worrying about demise from heart disease, but they will be an occasional treat.

Another fried bread treat around here is Navajo fried bread.  I just learned how to make it a few months ago, and it was wonderful.  It isn’t yeast bread, but a very plain recipe of flour, water, salt, and a pinch of baking powder.  I throw a little vegetable oil into the recipe to make it easier to handle, but it isn’t needed.  Knead, let rest, roll into thin rounds, fry, drain, and then put whatever you want onto it.  Navajo tacos have beans, sometimes meat, lettuce, cheese, and tomatoes.  We’ve tried them with eggs, bacon, and cheese for brunch tacos and they were great. 

To get back to cinnamon rolls, when I first moved west I thought cinnamon rolls were synonymous with PA dutch sticky buns.  Big mistake.  The first time I ordered what I thought was a sticky bun I got a fat white spiral with white icing on it.  It wasn’t even warm.  Another culture shock.  I remember Sunday mornings going to Montgomeryville Mart (when they were breaking the Blue Laws yet again by opening on Sunday), and buying a half dozen sticky cinnamon buns, fresh from the oven.  As soon as they came out of the oven they were inverted, so the sticky, brown, delicious sugary, cinnamon, raisin mix that was on the bottom coated and dripped down the top.  They were a rich dark brown sugar colored, about 2” high and 4” square - pieces of heaven.  They don’t exist in the west, at all.  A few places think they have them, but not like my childhood buns.  Thanks to the miracle of the internet, their recipes are readily available, and I can make a delicious batch when I want.  And freeze half of them for later.  They are glorious when heated in the microwave for a few seconds.  When I was a kid you had to eat them fast because they weren’t very good reheated in an oven. 

I’m now salivating too much to type.  Until next time.