Pearls before Swine – Euphorium Bakery (The City, London)

Raisin Scone

If one smashes their head against a wall enough times, repeatedly cursing the wall, perhaps they should look inward rather than blame some helpless concrete.  Entering into these cafes with expectations is dangerous, and, yet, I found myself wandering into another eatery, hoping for a respite from my extended sojourn from proper scones.  What I encountered was – who could doubt it – another raisin scone.  If I were told that the economy of the United Kingdom operated wholly on the distribution and use of raisins in various products, I would not question it.

Nevertheless, a scone sat before me, glistening, plump, and looking slightly jaundiced in color.  But, to my astonishment, it was completely acceptable.  In order to fairly review this scone or, moreover, to hold any of these reviews as valid, I would need to delude myself in to thinking that my now over a year-long exile in this godforsaken land has not affected my ability to differentiate true scone mastery.  Yet, as pragmatic as I am, I am equal parts quixotic, and will stop at nothing to continue my scone reviewing mission until I find the ideal pastry.  And so I continue.

The scone had an impressive size and was accompanied with no doubt glorious jam (had I been able to apply it).  The golden color indicated that I was in for acceptable crunch.  The raisins looked bold and full-bodied.  The shape was pleasingly odd.  I could not help but think that this scone looked to have the face of a bird, with raisin eyes that pierced me to my very soul.  Before quickly massacring my new avian friend, I remained concerned that, if one removed the raisins, this item would easily be categorized as a biscuit in my homeland.  As such, I anticipated extreme dryness for the interior, but was pleasantly surprised to find perfectly tender, if extremely dense innards.  The raisins were a highlight of each bite and were present with appealing frequency.  Best of all, crunch was not isolated to corners, but along the sides as well.  For all these positive qualities, the scone remained bland and uninventive.  A raisin scone, through and through.

Overall, the scone proved perfectly acceptable, if not slightly above average.  In our jaded society, where every scone must either be the best or worst, it is comforting to know that mediocrity, in its best possible iteration, can be found just down the road.




Pitiable and Burned – Peyton and Byrne (Covent Garden, London)

Raisin Scone

The epitome of the English scone, this is probably the best iteration I have had yet of the classic raisin concoction.  While that may sound like high praise, it is in fact a condemnation of the state of the scone in England.  This deplorable pile of baked refuse served its purpose of nourishing me, but the moments of joy were few and far between.  Small and hard (like nearly all English scones), this scone was as tasteless as expected.

(As a side note, some will object, stating that this scone requires jam or butter.  While that would certainly make this subpar dreck more appetizing, I refuse to integrate jam into my scone reviews unless the scones are treated with the substance before I make the purchase.  Otherwise, factors that are uncontrolled for such as spreading skill, quantity of jam provided, and jam quality would make each scone different and, therefore, the very enterprise of scone reviewing moot.)

On a positive note, the outside of the scone had a mild crunch and, while the inside was too dense, the raisins were tasty enough.  However, between those nuggets of joy, there was a center that I can only describe as bread-like.


(This would be a 4/10 if one adjusts for the dearth of quality scones to be found in this godforsaken country.  But, I am not here to give charity, and grades must be legitimate across all continents.)