Take another little piece of my scone now, baby..

These sour cherry oatmeal scones are the Janis Joplins of the treat world. If they had vocal chords, their voices would sail until they were horse--serenading your taste buds until your last bite. Their silvery pitch of sweetness is punctuated by a rustically raspy oatmeal crumb. These scones have deep soul, man.

Their look is delicately decorated, but the headstrong flavor of the sour cherry slams through the lace exterior with wild thrust.Their bluesy bite and folksy texture is unlike anything you've ever tasted before. A synchronized synthesis of soft and hard. Sensual and lonely. Wild and reserved. These scones' dynamic flavor swings and swoons with your mood, saying just what you need to hear. And each time I tell myself that I, well I think I’ve had enough,

But I’m gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough.

Bullied by the bourgeois cream scones, these scones perfected unconventional attitude. They find solace in the Lead Bellys (sourdough pancakes) and Bessie Smiths (persimmon pudding) of the treat world. These scones howl for social justice and peace, aching to be consumed by any and all people. Believe in your brother, have faith in man, help each other, honey, if you can.

They will kick and scream for your love and memory. Once you bite into this scone, you will promise to never forget their aching beauty.

Sour cherry oatmeal scones

[Makes 8 hearty scones]

Adapted from my mom's old PTA cookbook

1 cup whole wheat flour

3 Tbs. dark brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/3 cup cold butter, cubed
1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup dried sour cherries
2 eggs
2 Tbs. milk (I used whole)

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cut in cold butter* until the butter resembles little peas. Toss in oats and cherries and mix to get them mingling. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs and milk. Add the milky mixture to your dry mixture. Stir gingerly, until combined.

On lightly floured surface, pat the dough into a roughly seven inch circle. Cut into 8 wedges--if you find your knife sticking to the dough, just give it a dip into some flour before continuing to cut. Place wedges on ungreased baking sheet. (Insert egg/milk wash here if you are feeling particularly fancy today). Bake your wedges in a 400 degree oven for about 10 to 12 minutes. They are done when they are lightly golden around the edges.

*If (like me) you don't have a food processor or pastry blender, use your hands for this step. 'But what about using two knives?!" you say? I can't get the hang of it. If you like that clean route, take it. I'm gonna get my hands dirty. For tips on using your hands to cut butter into flour, I recommend this page: http://www.bonappetit.com/tipstools/tips/2008/04/how_to_rub_butter_into_flour.

Enjoy with coffee or tea (or Joplin's favorite: Southern Comfort). Spread peace and love (or butter). Eat while listening to "Ball and Chain".

I mean, if you gotta' care for one day, man.

I don't mean, if you, say maybe you wanna' care for 365 days, right? You ain't
got 365 days. You got it for one day, man...