When I left the seaside home of my childhood for the ‘big city’ of Brisbane, I asked my Nanna, Una, for copies of some of her recipes: her recipe for butterscotch scones was amongst them. Looking back, I’m not sure how Una did it. She had five children and 16 grandchildren in the same town and her kitchen always had baking—and a listening ear—ready for anyone who dropped in for lunch or afternoon tea.

These butterscotch scones are a relative of the cinnamon buns so popular in our temporary home in Canada. They don’t contain yeast, however, so are perfect for those mornings when you wake up desiring cinnamony goodness, but don’t have the patience to wait two hours.

Una’s recipe used a traditional scone dough, where the fat (butter, in this case) is cut into the dry ingredients. I’ve substituted my fall-back scone recipe—another invaluable, hand-me-down recipe from a friend’s mum—which is good for many things, like dumplings for a casserole or cheese scrolls whipped up in 20 minutes when you’re on preschool duty and there’s nothing else in the house.

I’ve given suggested quantities for the cinnamon filling. Feel free to ignore them. Just be generous. Una would approve of that.

[butterscotch scones]

3 cups self-raising flour
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup cream
80 g butter, softened
¾ cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons cinnamon

Preheat oven to 200°C. Line a baking sheet with non-stick baking paper.

Sift flour into a bowl and make a well in centre. Tip in milk and cream. Mix with a knife starting in the centre and gradually drawing in the flour from side of bowl to form soft dough. Turn onto floured surface and knead about four turns, folding at each turn.

Roll out dough to a 1cm thick oblong. Spread with butter. Sprinkle over brown sugar and cinnamon. Roll up lengthways. Cut into 2 cm slices. Place in a wheel pattern on prepared baking sheet (I make two wheels using these quantities).

Bake for 20 minutes or until golden and sound hollow when tapped. Best eaten on the day baked.

Lamington making is a community business. All that dipping and rolling requires at least two sets of hands. As a child, my mum included me in school and church lamington drives (that’s Australian for ‘fundraising’). People would gather in a hall to dip, roll, and package hundreds of lamingtons to be sold by the dozen: long trestle tables set with bowls of liquid chocolate, big pans of dessicated coconut, racks for drying. In recent years, a friend and I have made lamingtons for personal consumption and profit, watching them sell out at garage sales and church fairs.

After thirtysomething years, I celebrated my first Australia Day as an expatriate. Lamingtons—along with sausage rolls, lamb chops, Anzac biscuits, and pavlova—were on the menu. My mum was visiting and lent her hands to the dipping and rolling.

I based my lamingtons on David Herbert’s recipe from his reliable little volume The perfect cookbook (one of only two Australian cookbooks that made the cut to come to Canada with us). David’s recipe, like most others, calls for using forks to dip the cake into the chocolate icing. Don’t be ridiculous: wash your hands and use your fingers!

[cake]

150 g unsalted butter, softened
1 ¾ cups self-raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup caster (superfine) sugar
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspooon vanilla essence
½ cup milk

[icing]

4 cups icing sugar
¹/₃ cup unsweetened cocoa
2 tablespoons butter, melted
½ cup milk
500g desiccated coconut, for rolling

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F). Grease a 20 x 30 cm shallow cake tin and line the base with baking paper.

Place all cake ingredients in a large mixing bowl and beat with an electric mixer on medium speed for three minutes, or until the mixture is smooth. Spoon into the prepared tin and smooth the surface.

Bake for 45-50 minutes, or until golden and firm to the touch. Allow to cool in the tin for five minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Make the icing by combining the sugar, cocoa, butter, and milk in a large bowl and stir until smooth. Add boiling water to achieve a thin consistency.

Place the coconut in a shallow bowl or baking tray.

Trim the edges of the cooled cake and cut into even cubes, using the height of the cake as a guide. Dip each cube into the chocolate icing, allowing excess to drip from the cake before rolling well in coconut.

Makes about two dozen.

What we’re lacking in warmth, tropical fruit and seafood, and on-the-ground family this year (no disrespect to my sister who is braving an Albertan winter) we’re making up for with Skype dates, a table full of new friends, and a phenomenal Christmas menu. Here’s what we’re eating and drinking as we celebrate the birth of Jesus this year:

[drinks]

aperol + soda | champagne | sangria

Australian Shiraz | New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc | Canadian beer

[with drinks]

spicy toasted pecans (Gourmet, holiday 2011)

baked ricotta w sourdough toast … a long-time favourite inspired by Pamela’s Pantry on Brisbane’s Caxton Street

[main]

roast fillet of beef (Margaret Fulton, Christmas) … it’s the brandy flambé that lures me back to this dish

baked potatoes + pumpkin (butternut squash, if you must) + onions (a la Jamie Oliver) + carrots w thyme + garlic (Gourmet, holiday 2011)

petit pois français (Margaret Fulton, Christmas) … the dish to convert you to cooked lettuce

[dessert]

lemon curd + blueberry pavlova (inspired by Donna Hay, celebrate 2011) … lemon curd made to the prizewinning recipe featured in A generous helping: Treasured recipes from the people of Queensland (go buy it and support the ongoing relief effort for last year’s Summer floods); pavlova made to Stephanie Alexander’s recipe (even Nigella says it’s the best)

christmas tree ice cream (Guillaume Brahimi) w sour cherry compote … a simple crowd-pleaser

[with coffee] (Transcend espresso)

hazelnut dulce de leche truffles … oh me, oh my, these are wicked and worth the upperarm workout required to make the caramel

fruit mince tarts (my mother-in-law)

rocky road (inspired by Margaret Fulton) … toasted pistachios make this version special

What are you eating as you celebrate this year?

My mother-in-law makes exemplary fruit mince (mincemeat) tarts. My husband loves them. This Christmas we are an ocean away from our mothers and their baking, so I have taking up the fruit mince tart mantle. Reflections and recipes follow.

Life lessons from my fruit mince tart adventures in no particular order:

• Traditions hold the power to bind generations together.
• Like many important practical skills life has required of me—say, making these tarts or breastfeeding a baby—I wish I’d paid more attention to others who had mastered them.
• Mother knows best. My mother-in-law did say to roll the pastry ‘very thin’. My first batch would have been improved had I heeded this advice.

[fruit mince]

• 3 cups raisins, currants, and sultanas
• 100 g mixed peel
• 30 g glace cherries
• ¾ cup blanched almonds, chopped
• 2 large granny smith apples, grated
• 1 ½ cups brown sugar
• 150 g butter, melted
• ¾ cup brandy
• ½ tsp grated nutmeg
• ½ tsp ground cloves
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• grated rind and juice of 1 orange
• grated rind and juice of 1 lemon

Pulse batches of dried fruit and almonds in a food processor to chop coarsely. Spoon into a bowl and combine with apple, sugar, butter, brandy, spices, and citrus juices and rind. Cover and refrigerate, stirring daily for at least two days before use. Makes about nine cups.

[pastry + assembly]

• 1 egg
• ¾ cup caster (berry) sugar
• 125 g butter, melted
• 2 cups self-raising flour (or 2 cups all-purpose flour + 2 scant teaspoons baking powder)
• Pinch salt
• Icing (powdered) sugar, to serve

Whisk together egg and caster sugar until pale. Add melted butter and stir through. Add flour and salt to form a smooth dough. The exact quantity of flour depends on the size of the egg.

Roll out pastry very thin (2-3mm) and line greased tart cases. Fill with fruit mince and top with pastry (rounds or shapes). Bake in a moderate oven (180 C/350 F) until golden (about 30 minutes). Dredge with icing sugar to serve.

credits: The fruit mince recipe is a mash-up of my mother-in-law’s and Margaret Fulton’s (from her indispensable volume Christmas). The pastry recipe is my mother-in-law’s. Thanks, Sue, for your love—in words, example, and food—and for answering all my email queries.