In the wonderful world of Charles Chanton, there exists a scone so inspiringly delectable, that it’s guaranteed to improve even a Monday. We deliver, with no unwarranted aplomb, Mr. Chanton’s famous “blueberry pancake” scone (or, maple butter-caramel scone (pronounced “skawn”) as it’s known across the pond)!
CANDY, OR INFRARED THERMOMETER ALERT! You will need one of these.
Follow the instructions on how to make “layered scones” in a previous post up to the point where you are rolling out the dough and folding it to make layers.
Recipe
Combine all of these up to the dashed line (segments(…nerd)) in a bowl large enough to mix in. Yes—now—do it!
4.5 cups all-purpose flour
0.5 cups sugar
2.5 tsp. baking POWDER
0.25 tsp. baking SODA
1 tsp. salt
– – – – – –
2 sticks butter, cut into 8 pieces (Mr. Chanton cares very dearly for your circumference)
2 cups heavy cream (same as heavy whipping cream)
0.25 cup white vinegar
Caramelized Maple Syrup and Butter! (zounds!)
1.5 cups REAL maple syrup*
0.75 sticks butter (6 Tbs, for those disturbed by decimal values)
Splash of heavy cream (probably works out to about 2 Tbs, but trust us, you’ll make it to tomorrow not measuring this out)
*Seriously, preferences aside *show’s door to Aunt Jemima-ers*, this will NOT work as written with anything but real maple syrup.
Game plan: caramelize the maple syrup (300º F); stir in butter and cream; crystalize; add to scone dough
To ensure that the caramel crystallizes properly (not something we normally strive for—in fact, ordinarily, we do all that we can to prevent crystallization in caramel), we are going to need to bring it to its hard crack stage. As sugar heats, it goes through a series of stages, and the hard crack stage begins around 300º F. We will detail this in a later post, however, for now know that that the properties of sugar that has achieved hard crack are such that when dropped into cold water, the sugar becomes hard, and develops superficial cracks (if anyone could please tell us why they named it the way they did, we’d be ever so obliged….). We have, to some degree, oversimplified. The above applies to pure table sugar, in other words, sucrose. Maple syrup, while primarily sucrose, contains lesser amounts of other sugars, as well as malic acid. Sucrose is a disaccharide, meaning that it comprises two monosaccharides. In a process known as hydrolysis, a water molecule separates the sucrose into its component glucose and fructose (effectively…there’s a bit more about protons and hydroxide ions). Acids catalyze this reaction, and facilitated by heat, so the sugars in our maple syrup caramel hydrolyze a fair amount. This is relevant because sucrose, fructose, and glucose all have different crystalline structures, meaning that they do not crystalize together uniformly. Because the sugar molecules are intermingled, they inhibit one another’s crystallization. Under most culinary circumstances, this is a good thing, and is why cream of tartar (tartaric acid, once you dissolve it in water) is added to recipes—because it prevents crystallization (candy caramels, for instance). Additionally, the butter and slight amount of cream that you will be adding will further discourage crystallization—again, by way of interfering with the process. Ahem…we’ll put that (and more) in another post.
Fill the sink with about 2 inches of cold water (add ice if you can). You will need this once you caramel is taken off the stove.
Cut the butter into pats (6, or so) and keep within reach of the stove. Heat the syrup in a pot on high heat—the syrup with boil over if the pot is not tall enough. You must first boil off the majority of the water, otherwise, the syrup will not achieve temperatures much above 220°F (water boils at 212°F, but the other components in syrup elevate the boiling point). Keep your whisk handy, as you will likely need to beat back the roiling syrup (or you can be patient and lower the heat until it stops trying to breach the walls of your pot, but we don’t consider patience where force is an option). When no longer noticeably steaming (stop whisking for a bit, as it tends to suppress the steam) take out your candy thermometer* and insert it into the syrup. If you maintain high heat, you will need to whisk constantly as the temperature surpasses 250°F, or you risk completely decomposing, i.e. burning the syrup on the bottom. Also, be sure that the thermometer is far enough in (but not touching the bottom of the pan) and that your whisking, one, does not damage it, and two, circulates the syrup around it to ensure a more accurate reading. You will likely see some smoke around the 280°F mark, not because it smokes at 280°F, but because your whisking has probably caused some syrup to stick to the sides where it can heat up beyond 300°F—don’t be terribly concerned—keep whisking. Once your syrup-turned-caramel has reach 300°F (it’s fine to go over) turn off the heat and whisk in the butter and a splash of heavy cream. It will froth and bubble quite nicely, and take on a smooth look and caramel sheen.
With the pot still hot and whisk in hand, submerge the bottom of the pan in the cold sink water. Whisk the caramel in the pot while slowly moving the pot around in the water to allow for faster cooling. Continue to whisk until the caramel become grainy and crumbles (a sign that it has crystallized, which ordinarily indicates that you have ruined your caramel). If your caramel is very soft, even after it has cooled significantly in the sink, place it in the refrigerator. Once hardened, spread the crumbled maple caramel and dried blueberries atop the rolled-out dough and fold it in as you make the layers (refer back to layered scones post).
*we use an infrared thermometer for this, but be warned: while marvelously convenient instruments, infrared thermometers only read surface temperature. In this instance, the difference in temperature between the surface of the caramel and that which touches the pan are significant. We whisk vigorously to distribute the heat before we consider the reading on the infrared thermometer.
Erubite 