Cherry Chocolate Chip Scone
It was a dreary day some time ago. Storms rumbled but utter catastrophe had yet to be realized. I found myself searching for a scone for all the comforts only such a magical pastry can provide. Returned to my homeland, this seemed a simple task. I was on my own turf.
However, I was stripped of this illusion upon entering Alice’s Tea Cup, a highly rated scone establishment. While my beloved pastry would never betray me, something sinister greeted me inside the shop. There were tables in the back, but these were clearly not intended for me. I would be consuming my fare out in the cold, once I had been granted the privilege of purchase. At least, this is what the expression of the cashier suggested. This man, who bore a striking resemblance to the Bastard of Bolton both in appearance and in attitude, demanded my order.
Forced into a quick decision, I reached for comfort: a modestly-sized cherry chocolate chip scone. Trudging to sit outside the nearby Natural History Museum, my world was suddenly brightened by the sheer quality of this production. Sugar encrusted the top, immediately rushing me into the experience and making me ravenous for each bite. The cherry was exquisitely sweet and bold but not overwhelming. This left the chocolate to compliment the mixture of sugar and berry. While not as crunchy throughout as I generally desire, the corners provided satisfying resistance and the scattering of chocolate chips also made up for the otherwise lack of crunch.
My perception of the size of the scone increased as I consumed it. Perhaps this was by virtue of the relative dryness of the inside, suggesting a denseness that enlarged the product in my mind. Regardless, I found myself satisfied in many senses.
Simple pleasures are not easy to relish when surrounded by impending calamity. But returning to the past markers of joy can provide stability and grant endurance. They afford satisfaction that can balance out the otherwise ceaseless onslaught of negativity. In other words, I liked this scone.