We were about to take a first bite of lunch at McKay Cottage, when suddenly I heard my husband say, 'Aren't you going to have cream on that scone?' I glanced down at the item he was referring to and realized that no, I had not been going to have cream on that scone - and worse, that I had forgotten all about cream!
Whatever has happened to the SconeLady?
I can't explain. And to think of consuming a scone denuded of its great potential, is - I admit - lame.
So we caught the eye of a server, requested the cream, and shared the result. How was the scone? I believe that if it had been served next to a porcelain pot of tea, and if there had been a white tablecloth, and if I had been anticipating these tastes, this scone might have scored an 9 or 10.
The score of 8 was not the fault of McKay Cottage, where every bite is dreamy. I'm afraid the fault must rest with a SconeLady who has been away from the Motherland for too long.
But the most memorable part of that day was eating somewhere fabulous with a lovely man, once again. Good husbands (who are helpful and think of things like cream!) are a rare and extraordinary blessing, and I am daily thankful, for mine.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
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