← Back to Blog

Lemon Blueberry Drop Scones — The Sweetness We Allow Ourselves After the Fast

Yom Kippur. I fasted and prayed and atoned and asked for forgiveness and did not receive a definitive answer, because God is not in the business of definitive answers, God is in the business of questions, and the question this year is: am I making the right decision? Is the facility right? Is the moving right? Is the taking of this man out of his home and his chair and his kitchen and his life and placing him in a room in Cedarhurst the right thing? And the answer, which is not from God but from David and from the neurologist and from Sandra and from the deepest, most honest part of myself, is: yes. It is right because it is safe. It is right because love alone cannot protect him. It is right because the stove and the stairs and the night are more dangerous than the grief of the moving. It is right. It is right. The rightness does not make it less terrible.

The break-fast was at the house. Bagels, lox, cream cheese, Sylvia's coffee cake. Fourteen people, eating after the fast, the particular joy of food after deprivation, the gratitude of the first bite. I watched Marvin eat a bagel with cream cheese and I thought: this is the last Yom Kippur break-fast at this table for Marvin. The lasts are accumulating. The lasts are a weight I carry now, a bag I fill each week with another last, and the bag is getting heavier, and I carry it anyway, because carrying is what I do.

Sylvia’s coffee cake has always anchored our break-fast table, but this year I wanted something else beside it — something bright, something that felt like a small permission to enjoy. These lemon blueberry drop scones are that. They are not complicated. They do not ask too much of you after a day of fasting and praying and carrying the weight of hard decisions. You mix, you drop, you bake, and when they come out golden and warm, you set them on the table next to the bagels and the lox, and you eat, and for a few minutes the eating is enough.

Lemon Blueberry Drop Scones

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 18 minutes | Total Time: 33 minutes | Servings: 12 scones

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/3 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • Zest of 2 lemons
  • 1/3 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 1 cup fresh blueberries
  • 3/4 cup cold heavy cream
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Lemon Glaze

  • 1 cup powdered sugar
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven. Set oven to 400°F and line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and lemon zest.
  3. Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter pieces and work them into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter or your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining.
  4. Combine the wet ingredients. In a small bowl, whisk together the heavy cream, egg, vanilla, and lemon juice.
  5. Form the dough. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined. Fold in the blueberries carefully, being mindful not to crush them. The dough will be shaggy and sticky.
  6. Drop the scones. Using a 1/4-cup measure or large spoon, drop mounds of dough onto the prepared baking sheet, spacing them about 2 inches apart.
  7. Bake. Bake for 16 to 18 minutes, until the tops are golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool slightly.
  8. Make the glaze. Whisk together the powdered sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest until smooth. Drizzle over the warm scones.
  9. Serve. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 200mg

Ruth Feldman
About the cook who shared this
Ruth Feldman
Week 336 of Ruth’s 30-year story · Oceanside, New York
Ruth is a sixty-nine-year-old retired English teacher from Long Island, a Jewish grandmother of four, and the keeper of her family's Ashkenazi recipes — brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, and a noodle kugel that has caused actual arguments at family gatherings. She lost her husband Marvin to early-onset Alzheimer's and now cooks his favorite meals for the grandchildren, because the food remembers even when the people cannot.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?