Lemon Apricot Scones

I've always read that in baking one needs to be precise with the proportion of liquid to dry ingredients in order to get good results. Well I threw caution to the wind recently and substituted drained yogurt for the sour cream in a scone recipe, and it was a very successful experiment.

I pass the recipe on to you with the caution that not all yogurts are the same. I used a mellita coffee cone filter with a paper lining and drained for 20 minutes. I probably could have used thick Greek yogurt and skipped the draining, but I can't find that organically made. And I won't use non-fat sour cream - too many additives.

The yogurt, lemon and apricots combine to give a tart tanginess that raises the scones above the average.

Make sure to get un-sulfured apricots. They will be brown not orange. The sulfites used to preserve the orange color in the drying process are not food, plus some people are allergic to them. Better to use the natural kind. Apricots are high in iron, and contain good fiber in the form of pectins and cellulose. Snip them into small pieces with scissors.

Raisins are rich in calcium, fiber and antioxidants, making them the perfect sweet snack. I buy organic flame raisins from the Burkart stall at the Hollywood Farmers Market. They dry their own grapes to make the wine-iest most luscious raisins you can imagine. The downside is most of the raisins still have the stems attached, so you need to pick through them. Time consuming, but oh so worth the flavor.

This recipe makes a dozen scones. I froze half of them, and they defrosted really well.

I gilded the lily with a lemon icing. It's optional, but adds an extra sweet tangy kick.

Enjoy these scones at room temperature or slightly warm.

Lemon Apricot Scones
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cups yogurt
1 egg
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 tsp grated lemon peel (divided use)
1 cup snipped dried apricots
2/3 cup raisins
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2-3 tsp lemon juice

Set the yogurt to drain in a coffee filter. When it's the consistency of sour cream, scoop out 1 cup for the recipe. Discard any extra, or save for another use.

Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a cookie sheet.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or two forks or your fingers until it reaches the consistency of bread crumbs.

Separately, whisk together drained yogurt, egg, sugar and 1 tsp lemon peel. Stir this into crumbs until just moistened. Mix in apricots and raisins.

Drop dough by 1/4 cup scoops onto the cookie sheet. Bake 20-22 minutes until scones are golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool on a rack.

Optional glaze: Combine powdered sugar and 1/2 tsp peel. Stir in enough lemon juice to make a consistency to drizzle over the scones.

Makes 13 scones.

Split Pea Soup

Split peas make a wonderful smooth base for a vegetable soup. It's like a luscious cream soup with no dairy products.

I vary the vegetables depending on what I have on hand, but I think this is my favorite version. Turnips and dill are great together, and they really enliven the split peas.

They also add to the health benefits. Turnips are a good source of the insoluble fiber which helps prevent atherosclerosis. Dill is being studied for its effects on cholesterol and blood sugar. Split peas are rich in protein, fiber, and liver-supportive trace minerals.

The flavor of this soup improves as it sits, so I cooked it Sunday morning and then reheated it before dinner - adding extra water to make it soup-y. That's another bonus - because this soup thickens as it cools, you have to add water every time you heat it, increasing the number of servings you get from it. Split peas are inexpensive anyway, so this soup is a real budget stretcher as well as a yummy dinner.

Split Pea Soup
1 1/2 cups dried split peas, rinsed
6 cups water
2 onions, cut in large chunks (about 2 cups)
6 garlic cloves, peeled
1 large tbsp chopped fresh dill or 1 tsp dried
1 lb (about 3 medium) potatoes, peeled and diced
1 large carrot, diced
1/4 lb turnips (2 medium), peeled and diced
1 cup frozen corn kernels
salt and pepper and extra dill

Bring split peas and water to a boil in a large pot. Reduce the heat and skim off any foam that rises to the top. (This foam is why you should never cook split peas in a pressure cooker - the foam can block the vent.) You don't have to be obsessive about skimming - the foam isn't harmful, it's more an aesthetic thing.

Add the onions, garlic and dill. Simmer for one hour.

Remove from heat. Let it cool a little and then purée in batches in the blender until silky smooth. Return to a clean pot and add the potatoes, carrot, turnips, corn and 1 tsp salt. Simmer until the potatoes are tender, about 1 hour. The soup is very thick and will stick on the bottom, so use a low heat and a heavy-bottomed pot, and keep an eye on it.

Season with salt, pepper and more dill to taste.

Serves 6

Real bread

It's hard to find real bread in grocery stores.

This is not a new problem, as shown by this excerpt from Up In The Old Hotel, a collection of New Yorker articles by Joseph Mitchell. Mr. Flood is talking about the bread made by Mrs. Palumbo in 1944:

Mr. Flood grunted, "Whatever to hell it's called," he said, "it's good. Mrs. Palumbo knows what she's doing. She don't take ads in the papers to tell big black lies about her vitamins, she don't have a radio program rooting and tooting about her enriched bread, she don't wrap in cellophane, she don't even have a telephone. She just goes ahead and bakes the way her great-great-grandaddy baked. Consequently, by God, lo and behold, her bread is fit to eat. I'm not against vitamins, whatever to hell they are, but God took care of that matter away back there in the hitherto -- God and nature, and not some big scientist or other. Years back, bread was the staff of life. It looked good, it smelled good, it tasted good, and it had all the vitamins a man could stand. Then the bakers fiddled and fooled and improved their methods and got things down to such a fine point that a loaf of bread didn't have any more nourishment than a brickbat. Now they're putting the vitamins back in by scientific means -- the way God did it don't suit them; it ain't complicated enough -- and they've got the brass to get on the radio and brag about it; they should hide their heads in shame."

Urban Goat Herding

Every year at tax time, Joy and I do an additional calculation on our household energy usage. With the rising price of gas, we felt it was time to become more sustainable at home, and get more serious about urban farming.

So we got a goat. Her name is Lucretia. She is a Nubian goat, a breed that has the best milk, according to the American Dairy Goat Association.

Even though people break municipal chicken laws all the time in our L.A. neighborhood of El Sereno, we wanted to be legal, so we had to learn how to apply for a city permit. In doing our research, we learned about the Goat Justice League in Seattle, where they pioneered the modern urban goat advocacy movement.

Since Joy was busy churning butter most days, I took on the job of learning how to milk Lucretia. Believe it or not, there was an iPAD app for that, which was very helpful until Lucretia chewed my iPAD, and I began to reconsider this lifestyle choice.

On behalf of Joy’s Organic Kitchen, I’d like to wish you a very happy April 1st.