Homemade scones, hot from the oven — crispy on the outsides and crackling with a crust of sanding sugar, tender and pillowy with a tang of buttermilk in the center — are one of life’s divine pleasures. Growing up, scones in my house were made always with tart black Zante currants. But the other day, when I went to my local Ralph’s grocery store, I couldn’t
I think I can pretty confidently date my desire to make and try popovers to the time I first saw “Little Women.” They just seemed like the height of deliciousness. Years later, at a hotel in Rome, I finally began to truly understand Jo and Amy March’s fondness for the treat when I awoke every morning to a cappuccino and a basket of piping hot popovers, primed to