Glazed Apple Cinnamon Scones

April and the peas are up — the first green of the year, thin and pale and exactly as promised. You plant them and then a week later there they are, doing what seeds do when left to their own devices. I've been checking the row every morning with the particular attention of someone who needs to see something growing.

The rhubarb is coming up. The red stalks pushing through the cold ground in the same spot they've pushed through for thirty-seven years, indifferent to whatever the world has been doing in the meantime. I thought about Helen as I always do when the rhubarb comes up. I thought about the jam I made last May and the smell of it. I thought about the jar that's still on the pantry shelf, half-full, that I've been making last.

Sarah called to say they're fully vaccinated — both she and Jim got their second shots this week. The boys are scheduled. We talked about summer with a different quality than any conversation we've had in a year — actual plans, actual dates, the possibility of something like normal. She said: can we come for a full two weeks in July? I said: of course you can. She said: Teddy will want to cook. I said: good. She said: Finn wants to see the sugar house. I said: I'll leave the drop cloths on until he gets here.

I made the rhubarb jam on Saturday. Six jars again, the same recipe, the same hex-lid jars. The smell was what it always is. I opened the first jar and spread it on toast and stood at the kitchen counter and ate it, and it was exactly right, and I thought: this is the thing that persists, the thing that carries forward regardless of what's lost. You make the jam. You give some away. You keep some. Next year you make it again.

When I opened that first jar of rhubarb jam and spread it on toast, it was exactly right — but toast only gets you so far. The next morning I made these scones, and that’s when it really landed: the warm cinnamon and apple against the tart, bright jam, the kind of pairing that makes a person stand at the kitchen counter longer than they planned. If Teddy wants to cook when he comes in July, I’ll leave this recipe out for him. Until then, I’m making them for myself.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 18 min | Total Time: 33 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 cup peeled and finely diced apple (about 1 medium apple, such as Honeycrisp or Granny Smith)
1/2 cup cold heavy cream, plus 1 tablespoon for brushing
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
For the glaze: 1 cup powdered sugar, 2–3 tablespoons milk or cream, 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Instructions

Preheat. Heat your oven to 400°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until evenly combined.
Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter cubes and work them into the flour mixture with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with a few pea-sized pieces remaining. Don’t overwork it — those bits of butter are what make the scones flaky.
Add apple. Toss the diced apple into the flour-butter mixture and stir gently to distribute.
Bring the dough together. In a small bowl, whisk together the heavy cream, egg, and vanilla. Pour over the flour mixture and stir just until a shaggy dough forms. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and gently press together until the dough holds — a few dry bits are fine.
Shape and cut. Pat the dough into a circle about 3/4-inch thick. Cut into 8 wedges and transfer them to the prepared baking sheet, spacing about 1 inch apart.
Brush and bake. Brush the tops lightly with the reserved tablespoon of cream. Bake for 16–18 minutes, until the tops are golden and the edges look set. Let cool on the pan for 5 minutes before glazing.
Make the glaze. Whisk together the powdered sugar, cinnamon, and enough milk or cream to reach a drizzleable consistency. Spoon or drizzle over the warm scones. Serve with rhubarb jam — or any jam worth keeping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Glazed Apple Cinnamon Scones — Something Worth Spreading the Jam On