A good scone is a quick triumph, and browning the butter first turns a familiar bake into something quietly more interesting. The toasted, nutty notes carry right through the crumb, deepening the flavour without making the scones heavy or rich. They still rise tall and pull apart in flaky layers, ready for clotted cream and jam. Best eaten warm, the day they are made.
Makes 8.
- 100g unsalted butter
- 450g self-raising flour, plus extra to dust
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 0.5 tsp fine salt
- 50g caster sugar
- 175ml whole milk, cold
- 1 large egg
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 egg yolk beaten with 1 tbsp milk, to glaze
- Brown the butter in a small pan over a medium heat, swirling, until the milk solids turn golden and it smells nutty. Pour into a bowl and chill until solid.
- Heat the oven to 200C fan and line a baking tray.
- Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar together in a large bowl.
- Coarsely grate or rub the cold browned butter into the flour until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.
- Beat the cold milk, whole egg and vanilla together, then stir into the dry mixture with a knife to form a soft, shaggy dough. Do not knead it.
- Tip onto a floured surface and pat out to about 3cm thick, then fold in half and pat out again; this builds the layers.
- Cut straight down with a 6cm cutter, pressing without twisting so the scones rise evenly.
- Place them close together on the tray, almost touching, which helps them rise tall.
- Brush the tops only with the egg-yolk glaze, keeping it off the sides so the layers can lift.
- Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, until well risen and deeply golden. Cool slightly before splitting and serving.
The scone is one of Britain’s most argued-over baked goods, from how to pronounce its name to the proper order of cream and jam. Its origins are usually placed in Scotland, where early versions were large, flat griddle cakes cut into wedges and cooked on a hot stone or pan rather than in an oven. The word itself is often linked to the Stone of Scone, the ancient coronation stone, though the connection is more poetic than proven. Over time the scone shrank, rose, and moved indoors to the oven, becoming the small, light bake that anchors an afternoon tea.