Well, what would you say about a basket of freshly baked beetroot and cheese scones? For breakfast. Sound a bit odd as a Valentine’s treat? Well, there are advantages: no choccie-smeared face on the bus to work for starters; and no petals stuck in uncomfortable places. And they are pink. 
And you could have champagne with them. I haven’t tried this, but it could work. I do know these light, savoury scones go jolly well with a smoky mug full of lapsang souchong tea. And absolutely heavenly with a schmear of salted English butter. I would agree that it sounds odd but I promise you, hand on heart, these are absolutely terrific scones. The beetroot is so subtle as to be only a background note of savouriness; and the dash of Worcestershire sauce and wee dollop of grain mustard elevate this way beyond a plain cheese scone. If you have a favourite scone recipe you could even try it with these adaptations. But I have tried many permutations of this most British of baked goods and I really think this is a keeper, with or without the hint of pink.
And you could have champagne with them. I haven’t tried this, but it could work. I do know these light, savoury scones go jolly well with a smoky mug full of lapsang souchong tea. And absolutely heavenly with a schmear of salted English butter. I would agree that it sounds odd but I promise you, hand on heart, these are absolutely terrific scones. The beetroot is so subtle as to be only a background note of savouriness; and the dash of Worcestershire sauce and wee dollop of grain mustard elevate this way beyond a plain cheese scone. If you have a favourite scone recipe you could even try it with these adaptations. But I have tried many permutations of this most British of baked goods and I really think this is a keeper, with or without the hint of pink.
So save the chocs and the scented bath for later, and treat you and your loved one(s)s to a funky breakfast of crazy pink scones. Be a devil and don’t let on that the pink comes from a bit of grated beetroot. But do tell them – after they shower you with compliments. Valentine’s Day is about surprises. Nobody said the surprise can’t be beetroot.
History Bit (bear with me, please) I’m not terribly sure that whoever invented scones would recognise them in this salmon-pink disguise. The first published mention of the scone was all the way back in 1513, in a translation of the Aeneid by the Scots poet, Gavin Douglas: ‘The flour sconnis war sett in, by and by, wyth other mesis.’ Hmm, not very enlightening. But we do know that the original scones were unleavened – bicarbonate of soda was a mid-19th century invention – and made of ‘fine white fout’ (reflecting the possible source of the name scone, from the Dutch for fine white bread – schoonbroot) and soured milk (buttermilk). These would have been flat, much like today’s Scottish potato scone, and scored to give four portions. Later, leavened versions would also favour this quadrant sharing size. Individual portions are a recent tinkering, probably Victorian. Love those Victorians as I am not much of a sharer at heart, always making sure that anything portioned should either favour me, or be excruciatingly millimetre-perfect in its cutting or ladling. My husband – an only child – thinks I’m a bit mad.
Of much more importance is, of course, pronunciation. No word promotes such a nationalistic twinge to a Scot as the ‘incorrect’/English pronunciation of scone. Here, in the land of its invention, it rhymes with ‘gone’, indicated by the Gaelic word for scone, ‘sgoon’ (long soft ‘o’). The English, and Americans, rhyme it with ‘stone’. Even I, American-born but living here for 20-hmm years cringes when I hear the ‘stone’ pronunciation. Being a pedant I have to bite the insides of my cheeks not to utter a challenge. But I keep my mouth shut. Preferably with a scone. And don’t even get me started on the which-goes-first – the jam or the clotted cream – conundrum. We will leave that most English of conundrums to the English. But, for the record, I’m a jam-first girl. Sorry, Devon.
Beetroot and Cheese Scones
The amount of beetroot in these scones is really just for colour, but I have plenty of beetroot recipes should these pink scones pique your curiosity for this most maligned of vegetables. Want something sweet and healthy? Then how about super-moist Chocolate Beetroot Cake? For a hearty, toothsome salad with lots of amazing flavor, you could do worse than try Warm Beetroot, Lentil and Pepper Salad with Griddled Halloumi. And to ward off colds, or to have as a tasty nippy-sweet drink, whiz up a jug of Beetroot Zinger Juice – my riposte to germs and fatigue.
175 g unbleached plain flour (or use self-raising with 1/4 tsp baking powder added instead of below)
2 and ¼ tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
25 g cold butter, small dice
75 g strong cheddar cheese or Cheshire cheese, grated
50 ml buttermilk (or dairy or non-dairy milk with a little lemon juice added)
1 tsp grain mustard
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce (Lea & Perrin’s for preference)
½ raw or cooked small beetroot (or whole -use 10 ml less milk if this option), finely grated
extra flour for rolling surface
a little milk for brushing on the scones (optional)
Preheat oven to 220 (200C fan). Sift the flour and baking powder into a large bowl. Rub the butter in with your fingertips, but preferably with a pastry cutter, until it’s evenly ‘crumbly’.
Mix in the cheese. In a small bowl or jug, stir together the buttermilk, Worcestershire sauce, mustard and beetroot shreds. Gradually add the wet mixture to the flour, stirring with a knife, until you achieve a soft dough and a ‘clean’ bowl. If there is quite a lot of flour that refuses to amalgamate, add a tablespoon more buttermilk. Resist the temptation to handle it with warm hands or you will get tough scones.
Plop the dough onto a floured surface and gently and not too precisely pat out the dough to about 1 inch (2.5 cm) or a bit deeper. Flour a 2 ½ inch (6 cm) scone cutter and cut out 5-7 scones (depending on the depth of dough and size of cutter). Place the scones on a well-oiled baking sheet, and brush the tops with milk. Bake on a high shelf for 15-20 minutes until the scones are well-risen and very golden. Pierce a scone with a toothpick and, if it comes out clean, it is done. Cool briefly on a wire rack (don’t leave on the baking sheet or they will get soggy bottoms). Serve warm with lots of salted butter. A pot of smokey lapsang souchong is the perfect accompaniment. These scones are also brilliant with nearly any soup. 
