Merging the tastes of spring in classic soup

Growing up, we ate lots of homemade soups. All very basic, simple, homey and quite delicious: rich beef stew, flavored with lots of vegetables, including chopped cabbage that cooked to a clear tenderness holding all the rich juices of the chunks of chuck roast; pots of beans that, depending on their liquid proportions, teetered between . . . → Read More: Merging the tastes of spring in classic soup

Baked Sunday Mornings: Deepening a joy for ice cream-making

I love to make ice cream. But when I bought my first ice cream maker, just several years ago, I had dueling ideas about where things might go from there — would I be making all sorts of the ice creams, gelato and sorbets of my dreams, or would the ice cream maker sit, unused, . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Deepening a joy for ice cream-making

Bread of the Month: Panning for a golden potato scone

Throughout the year, I mark (via Post-it, bookmark or scrap of torn envelope) interesting recipes in my cookbooks that I think I might want to try at some point.

Sometimes, this really yields treasure, particularly, if one of my books has been neglected. I’m not sure where or when I picked up “Prairie Home Cooking” . . . → Read More: Bread of the Month: Panning for a golden potato scone

Baked Sunday Mornings: Satisfying an unwavering love of scones

Clearly — as one could see from the name of this blog — I am a scone fan. I’ve written of my love and admiration of scones here before, but I don’t have a problem making a new scone recipe to remind me of everything good — and great — about scones.

Of course, scones . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Satisfying an unwavering love of scones

Baked Sunday Mornings: Exploring a Black Forest cookie

I almost opted out of the Black Forest Chocolate Cookies on the Baked Sunday Mornings schedule. I had a number of deadlines and other cooking projects on my docket, and thought I might be too busy. Then, I thought: Too busy to bake cookies? That doesn’t even make sense!

Looking over the recipe, a . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Exploring a Black Forest cookie

Baked Sunday Mornings: Recalling ‘butterscotch days’ through tarts

I love my first paging through a cookbook, particularly one as visually and deliciously stunning as “Baked: New Frontiers in Baking” by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito (2008). Usually, this initial “walkthrough” establishes my “must-make” list. Without question, the Butterscotch Pudding Tarts in the book has always been number one.

It’s easy to understand why, . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Recalling ‘butterscotch days’ through tarts

Baked Sunday Mornings: Brewing a Cinnamon Mocha

Sometimes, when you do a baking blog, it’s nice to make something a little easier, sans oven. In an arena of lengthy ingredient lists and stages of processes (creaming butter, sifting flour, proofing yeast, zesting citrus, chopping nuts, rolling dough, frosting layers, etc.), a simple cup of hot, warm comfort is just the ticket during . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Brewing a Cinnamon Mocha

Bread of the Month: Marking 150 posts with gingerbread scones

When this post is completed, it will be my 150th for “A Woman Sconed.” But, who’s counting? Just me. That’s kind of the point of a blog, or, at least my blog. This space has been mine to dwell in, mine to decide in, mine to create in, mine to fail in, mine to mine . . . → Read More: Bread of the Month: Marking 150 posts with gingerbread scones

Baked Sunday Mornings: Rolling out a good ol’ apple pie

I’m highly suggestible when it comes to baking. Give me an appealing recipe, an enticing photo, a whiff of a good baking idea, and if I have a little time to myself (or even if I don’t), I’ll assemble the ingredients and be on my way.

You don’t need a reason to bake, though the . . . → Read More: Baked Sunday Mornings: Rolling out a good ol’ apple pie

Stirring up passion for apple butter

When I was a kid, I had all the cool chores. I got to shell the peas, gathered to the brim of a bottomless five-gallon paint bucket. I got to guard the rows of cabbages with a swatter, set to strike down any moths fluttering along. I got to lie down on my belly in . . . → Read More: Stirring up passion for apple butter