Rhubarb-Ginger Scones

It’s no secret… I love rhubarb. I feel a little ashamed to post yet another breakfast rhubarb recipe so soon after my Rhubarb-Cheese Danish—thankfully the shame doesn’t last long so I can share this with you.

Rhubarb is the single spring offering that I wait for with the most anxious anticipation. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but you won’t find me fighting over the ramps, fiddleheads, and morrels at farmers markets—I go straight for the rhubarb. That’s not to say I don’t like ramps, fiddleheads, or morrels, in fact I love them and would have to exercise some serious restraint to not grab fistfuls of each when I see them; all I’m saying is that should a human pile of people clad with man-buns and grocery totes made of hemp over wild leeks, well, count me out. My internal calendar doesn’t ring an alert to go foraging for these seasonal offerings of forest fodder; no, I’m scouring the grocery store and farmers markets for hot pink spears of sharpness and sour. And I know I’ve said this before, but when I lived in Michigan I didn’t have to wait for spring. Being that Michigan is a huge rhubarb producer, hothouse/forced rhubarb starts popping up in grocery stores as soon as early January throughout the state. No such luck here in Connecticut (or at least no such luck for me and my search). I have to wait for a sad, lone box of rhubarb to get absentmindedly thrown in by the watermelons (or maybe by the strawberries if any thought is given to it) sometime in May.

This time around I literally grabbed almost every bit of rhubarb there was at the store. I have a plant of my own in the garden but a harvest from it wouldn’t be nearly enough for me to get my rhubarb fix (which is why I bought another plant the other day… don’t judge me). When I went to check out, the cashier asked, with a look of confusion over who would need this much rhubarb, “so, whacha makin’?” I said I didn’t know yet. Her look shifted from innocent surprise and curiosity to “this guy is craaaaaazzzy”. She ain’t wrong.

I decided to veer from my inclination to pump the rhubarb full of vanilla, like I do with my favorite Rhubarb-Almond Crumble, and went with something still incredibly fragrant, a powerhouse of flavor in its own right—ginger. And while I love a rhubarb dessert I think that, as I confess I do with most desserts, it’s perfectly suited for breakfast, too (yes… I’ve eaten cake at 7a.m. Don’t lie. You’ve done it too). Since it’s been too long since I’ve made scones, something I was reminded of by way of a weekend’s long binge of The Great British Bake Off, I decided scone-making was in order.

Rule number one of scones is that you need to use cream. Not milk, not half and half, not light cream, skim milk, blah, blah, blah… Cream. I’ve seen vegan recipes around for scones that use coconut oil in place of the butter and coconut or almond milk in lieu of cream, and I’m sure they’re delicious in their own right, but I wanted something classic. An important note on the cream is the quantity. Most recipes will call for a varying amount of cream—depending on the recipe, usually somewhere between 1/3 to 1/2 cup, or 1/2 to 3/4 cup—reason being that the flour will absorb differing volumes of cream, mostly based on the humidity in the air, but also the particular batch of flour, its age, and so on. It can be infuriating and intimidating to some, especially if you’ve never made scones and don’t quite know what you’re looking for. Regardless of the recipe, start by adding the lesser amount of cream called for, adding more as needed, until you have a dough that comes together, and only just, into a soft and supple dough, something only slightly drier than a biscuit dough. (Think of it like making a piecrust dough—you add just enough cold water for it to come together)

With this particular recipe, the rhubarb is macerated in some sugar before being added to the dough to help soften it a bit before baking. Spoon out as much of the sugary rhubarb juice as you can from the bowl—usually just about 1 ½ tablespoons—and add it to the dry-mix-and-butter combo with just a ½ cup of cream and stir/beat just to combine; then add in the rhubarb itself, give it a quick stir again, and add more cream, if needed, for the dough to come together. If you add enough cream for the dough to come together first, then add the rhubarb and its juices afterwards you run the risk of having a dough that’s too wet and the scones won’t bake quite right.

Some recipes call for an egg or two but I prefer my scones without them; the addition of eggs makes for something much cakier than a traditional scone and, while I’ve made them this way with great results, I prefer them eggless.

I add ground ginger to the dry mix for a subtle warmth, but the real pep of ginger comes in the form of a glaze. I grate a generous amount of fresh ginger root, pick it up, and squeeze it of it’s juices into a bowl of powdered sugar. Even with such copious amounts of powdered sugar, the pepperiness and citrusy zing of the ginger boldly makes its presence known. On its own the glaze is gutsy and strong, but brushed over the scones it’s tamed by the pastries gentle sweetness and compliments the bursts of sharpness when you bite into a jammy bit of rhubarb.

So, quick, before rhubarb season ends or some lunatic like me scoops up the entire supply from every grocery store and farmers market in the tri-county area, get yourself some of spring’s finest crop and get baking these. I mean, there is nothing like the sharp shock of rhubarb and ginger’s fire to wake you up in the morning.

And if you’re a rhubarb fanatic, or just want to follow the ramblings of a lunatic that is, follow me on BLOGLOVIN’. For real. You won’t regret it.

Rhubarb-Ginger Scones

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There is nothing like the sharp shock of rhubarb and ginger's fire to wake you up in the morning.

Servings	Prep Time
8 scones	20 minutes

Cook Time	Passive Time
20 - 22 minutes	1 hour

Servings Prep Time 8 scones 20 minutes

Cook Time Passive Time 20 - 22 minutes 1 hour

Rhubarb-Ginger Scones Yum Print Recipe There is nothing like the sharp shock of rhubarb and ginger's fire to wake you up in the morning. Servings Prep Time 8 scones 20 minutes Cook Time Passive Time 20 - 22 minutes 1 hour Servings Prep Time 8 scones 20 minutes Cook Time Passive Time 20 - 22 minutes 1 hour

Ingredients

For the Scones:

• 8 ounces rhubarb (about 3 - 4 stalks)
• 2-1/2 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 cup sugar divided
• 1/2 cup butter diced and chilled
• 1 t-spoon ground ginger
• 1/2 - 2/3 cup heavy cream chillled, plus more for brushing the scones
• 1 t-spoon vanilla extract
• Small pinch kosher salt
• turbinado sugar

Ginger Glaze

• 2 cups powdered sugar sifted
• 2 t-spoons meringue powder (optional) (see note)
• 2 ounces fresh ginger peeled and finely grated (to yield about 3 tablespoons)
• 1 t-spoon vanilla extract
• water as needed

Servings: scones

Instructions

1. Start by chopping the rhubarb into 1/4" pieces—thicker, wider stalks should be halved lengthwise first. Sprinkle with about 1-1/2 to 2 tablespoons of the sugar and toss to combine in a bowl and set aside for 1 hour to macerate, softening it a bit and getting its juices flowing. If you haven't already, dice the butter and stash in the freezer to chill.
2. Preheat oven to 425°
3. When the rhubarb is finished macerating add the flour, remaining sugar, baking powder, salt and ground ginger to the bowl of a stand-up mixer (see note). Scatter in the butter and, with the paddle attachment, beat for just about 30 seconds to break the butter up so it's roughly larger than pea-sized.
4. Add the liquid from the rhubarb to the dry mix (don't get too hung up on this, getting out a sieve and the like—just use a spoon get out as much as you can. You'll probably end up with about 1.5 - 2 tablespoons of the liquid). Measure out 1/2 cup of cream into a liquid measuring cup. With the mixer on low add 1/2 cup of the cream and vanilla and beat for just a few seconds. Scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Tip in the rhubarb and beat again until just combined, a few seconds more only. If it hasn't all come together into a soft dough quite yet, add a bit more cream (up to 2 tablespoons plus 2 t-spoons more, so 2/3 cup in total).
5. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and form into a disc, pressing it down with the back of your hand until it's 9" in diameter. Cut the dough into 8 triangles and transfer to a parchment or silicone mat-lined baking sheet. Brush them with a little more cream and sprinkle evenly with turbinado sugar.
6. Bake at 425° for 20 - 22 minutes, until lightly browned on top and firm to the touch throughout.
7. While the scones bake, sift the powdered sugar into a large bowl and add the meringue powder (optional). Grate the ginger root over a plate or into a small bowl (NOT on a wood cutting board—it'll absorb the liquid too much!). Pick up the grated ginger in your hand and squeeze its juice into the powdered sugar, simultaneously whisking it. Splash in the vanilla and beat to combine, adding a bit of water splash by splash, as needed. You want it thin enough to drizzle evenly but stiff enough to cling to the scones.
8. When the scones are done baking, let them rest on the baking sheet for a few minutes before transferring to a wire cooling wrack to cool for just 5 - 10 minutes or so. Drizzle with the glaze and serve warm or at room temperature.
9. You can make them in advance and reheat them in the microwave for a few seconds if you want. They are best fresh and still slightly warm from the oven.

Recipe Notes

• Mixer vs. Processor vs. By Hand: I find these easiest to make in a stand-up mixer (or a hand mixer would do) but you can manage with a food processor. With the latter, you need to stir in the rhubarb by hand so the processor doesn't puree the rhubarb into the dough. You can use a pastry cutter to break the butter into pieces or by hand, tossing your hands in the dry mix and butter as you rub the pads of your thumbs across your fingers to break up the butter. This takes forever, though, and can warm the butter too much.
• The varying level of cream that scone recipes call for is due to flours ability to absorb liquid. The humidity in the air and the flour itself can cause it to absorb different levels. Most times that I make scones, though, I use about 1/2 cup plus maybe a splash more. Because the rhubarb here needs to be macerated a bit first—so, once baked, it's properly softened in the scones—it lets out some of its natural liquid. I usually end up with about 1-1/2 tablespoons of rhubarb juice, but if your rhubarb is particularly juicy start out with 1/3 cup of cream, adding as you go. You don't want a really lack, sloppy dough so its important to add the rhubarb liquid and then just enough cream for the dough to come together in a soft, supple dough.
• The meringue powder in the glaze is optional but I love it because it helps the glaze to set up and dry a bit on the scones. If you can't find it at your local grocery store, check out restaurant supply stores or craft/hobby shops in the baking/cake decorating isles. Otherwise, you know you can buy everything online.

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