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Created by Chef Remy
Golden wedges of tender, crumbly goodness where the deep nuttiness of brown butter meets the gentle sweetness of cornmeal, finished with crunchy sugar crystals and begging for a drizzle of local honey.
Brown butter changes everything. That's the truth my grandmother Evangeline taught me when I was barely tall enough to see over her counter. She'd stand at the stove, swirling a pan of butter until it went from yellow to gold to the color of a copper penny, filling her kitchen with a fragrance like roasted pecans. She put it in everything: cornbread, pie crusts, and these scones she made every Sunday morning.
The magic here is taking that nutty, caramelized butter and working it cold into flour and cornmeal. You get all that depth of flavor, but the butter still creates those flaky layers that make a scone worth eating. The cornmeal adds a gentle texture and a whisper of sweetness that feels like home to anyone who grew up in the South.
At Lagniappe, we serve these warm from the oven with cane syrup butter, and folks order them by the half dozen. But they're just as wonderful plain, split open while still steaming, with nothing but a cup of strong coffee and a quiet morning. The technique isn't hard. You just need to respect the process: brown the butter properly, chill it completely, and handle the dough like it owes you money. Gentle hands make tender scones. That's the bayou way.
Quantity
10 tablespoons (140g)
Quantity
2 cups (250g)
Quantity
3/4 cup (105g)
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| unsalted butter | 10 tablespoons (140g) |
| all-purpose flour | 2 cups (250g) |
| fine yellow cornmeal | 3/4 cup (105g) |
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