Because my bakery was named “Lola Cookies & Treats,” people generally didn’t come to buy savory items. For these scones, however, they always made an exception.
I started making cheddar chive scones for my customers at the local farmers’ market: Each week I cut fresh chives from my garden, and with every new batch these scones became more of a cult item. Not just with my patrons, either. Before the market started each Saturday, neighboring vendors would circle around my stand for their new favorite breakfast.
Because they were so popular, we started offering cheddar chive scones at our storefront, too, sending out the fresh-baked word via social media. For years they were the only savory item on our menu.
Cheddar chive scones are best eaten warm. Sliced lengthwise and toasted, they work wonderfully for tuna-fish sandwiches — although a simple toasted, buttered scone is heaven in its own right, too. Customers loved to eat them with soup and stews; I think they’re the perfect match for a bowl of chili.
Bonus: Use this same recipe to make Cheddar Bacon Scones — just substitute bacon bits for the chives.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Stir until mixed.
Add chopped chives and grated cheese, stir.
Slowly stir in half-and-half until ingredients are just combined. DO NOT OVER MIX.
The moment this batter has come together, scrape it out of the bowl and put it on a lightly floured surface.
Now, use your hands to form the dough into a log shape. The dough will be stiff and sticky, so use a little flour to help handle it — but be sparing. When you’re done it should be evenly shaped, smooth on the surface, and not sticking to the counter anywhere.
Use a dough divider (or a knife) to split the log of dough in half.
Take half of the dough and pat it down into a circle that's about 9 inches in diameter and at least ¾ inches thick.
Using the dough divider, cut this circle into six pieces shaped like pie slices.
Repeat for the other half of the dough, for a total of 12 scones.
Put the scones on a pan lined with parchment paper or a silicone mat. For the best presentation, brush them with an egg wash just before baking.
Bake for about 22 minutes. They should be golden brown on the edges when you take them out.
You can also use this recipe to make Cheddar Bacon Scones, which are equally excellent. Instead of chives, substitute an equal amount of bacon bits. Before baking, sprinkle extra bacon bits over the egg wash after you apply it.
We never shortened the name of these scones, even though it barely fit on our labels at the bakery. Why? Because each element was a crucial part of the description. These are scones with a lot going on.
There’s sweetness, plus a little tart, from the apricots. Crunch and character from the walnuts. Smoothness and more sweet oomph from the white chocolate. Texture and a visual flourish from the sugar on top. Combined with the lightness of the scone, all of this added up to one of our most-requested breakfast items — and a big reason for the lines each Saturday morning at our farmers’ market stand.
No need to stand in line anymore: Just brush up on my tips for baking scones, then make up a batch yourself. Serve them warm from the oven with a cup of coffee or tea, and enjoy the sweet complexity.
I was not born into biscuit-baking. I was raised far north of the Mason-Dixon line, bereft of biscuits and other Southern staples. The first time I saw red dirt piled near construction sites, I was stunned. Was that color real? The first time someone called “Y’all come back now” as I was leaving a shop, I figured it was tongue-in-cheek. No: Just friendly.
I’ll never deny my Bostonian pride, but I have lived in the South for a long time now and I have come to love so much about it, from the climate to the magnolias to the hospitality.
And, of course, The Biscuit — six bites of love.
I got my biscuit recipe in college, from an Atlanta woman who knows the score. Mrs. L is the mother of a close friend from freshman year; I was a guest of the family one holiday weekend. In addition to a trip to the Varsity and a short history of Coca Cola, I was treated to some fine home cooking — including a breakfast complete with grits and home-made biscuits.
I told my kind hostess that I loved to bake and asked if she’d share the biscuit recipe. To my pleasure, she did. I knew immediately that I had something good: Mrs. L was from a long, proud line of Atlantans, and her biscuits were perfect.
When I tried to recreate those Atlanta biscuits, however, they wouldn’t come out perfectly for me. I remember baking a passable batch a in California sublet one summer; taking another few cracks in two consecutive Boston kitchens; and falling somewhat short yet again in a Brooklyn kitchen the size of a small closet. I nearly forgot what I was aiming for — but I kept trying.
(One of my greatest strengths as a baker, by the way: I’m happy to eat the stuff that’s not quite right, and I’m never too discouraged to try again.)
Ultimately I buckled down and dove deep into Southern biscuit-baking lore. I learned that a great recipe is just the start. You also must master Southern technique and details.
Let’s step back for a second. Biscuits are not the same all over the South. Some like them tall, some like them wide. Some like them big, while others think big biscuits are plain uncouth. Most will agree that a ham biscuit is the height of Southern civility and hospitality — it has ever been so and ever will be, amen. But then there’s biscuits and gravy, and biscuits with homemade peach preserves, which may be even better.
There’s lots of common ground, though. A good biscuit is hearty and light at the same time. It is golden and slightly crunchy on top, and it steams when you open it warm. Each bite melts in your mouth.
All of that, I knew.
What I had yet to learn: All Southerners know, for instance, that you bake biscuits with White Lily flour — it’s such common knowledge that their recipes generally don’t bother mentioning it.
White Lily is made only from “soft” winter wheat, which is lower in gluten and protein than the “hard” wheat used for bread flour. It’s almost like finely milled cake flour, so it rises better and makes a lighter biscuit. (Standard all-purpose flour, by contrast, is a mix of soft and hard wheat, with a blend that varies by brand.)
I also had to learn how Southerners handle biscuit dough (as little as possible); how Southerners cut biscuit dough (don’t use the top of a glass!); and how Southerners treat butter (keep it cold all the way to the oven).
When I put all of this together, I finally unlocked the genius of the Atlanta recipe. I have loved making biscuits ever since. I may not have been born in the South, but I’ve worked hard to learn its ways — and I have been rewarded in return. The ultimate moment, perhaps, was in 2007, shortly after I opened my bakery here in Virginia: I was featured in Southern Lady magazine. Mrs. L would be proud!
Here, then, is the recipe for Atlanta biscuits. On a separate page I’ve gathered all I’ve learned about bringing biscuits to their full glory. Once you know the techniques, it’s all fairly simple. In the words of a baker whom I heard summing up biscuit-baking: “It’s just baking powder, flour, shortening … and then you put the love in.”
In bowl of a stand mixer, stir together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt
Add butter to mixer on low speed; run until butter is broken down into bits slightly smaller than pea-sized
Add cream in a steady stream as the mixer runs. Keep running until just combined.
Turn out the dough onto a floured surface
As quickly and gently as possible, pat dough into a ball, then roll out to about 1” thick.
Use a sharp round biscuit cutter to cut out biscuits. (I use a round cutter 2½" in diameter. If you use a smaller size, your biscuits might take slightly less time to bake.) Arrange them close together on a baking pan. Brush all with beaten egg.
I started by selling cookies at the farmers' market. Then, in 2006, I rented a few small rooms in an old Victorian building in historic downtown Leesburg, Virginia, and turned them into the bakery of my dreams.
We baked everything in our open kitchen using no preservatives and no artificial flavors — because that's how it tastes best.
Lola's was featured on The Rachael Ray Show and Fox 5 TV; in Washingtonian magazine and Northern Virginia magazine; and on the cover of Loudoun Magazine.
In 2013 our building was sold and converted to office spaces, so we closed — at least for the moment. So many customers asked for our recipes that I started this blog in response.