Scone Off

ANZAC Day must be celebrated with a degree of respect and gratitude for the men and women who have served in our armed services. Such as my parents - she in the WAAAF briefly and he in the RAAF for many years. Also, both my grandfathers served overseas in the Great War. I guess I'm only here because they both came back - injured but alive. Mum's Dad, Gordon lost a lung from gas in the trenches and Dad's Dad, Alec lost the sight of an eye. I loved my grandfathers. Gordon had a roly poly stomach and a Santa Claus sort of laugh. He lived to 96, long enough to meet Lian, Wim and Mae. Alec was a stretcher bearer in the war, saved many lives and was remembered for it. Men would recognise him in his later years working with the railways, and come up to him to thank him. He was a dear man and it was he who taught me how to make scones.

So we had an ANZAC Day Scone Off.

The idea came upon us at the neighbourhood Christmas party. A competition to settle the question of who around here makes the best scones. Let me just confide at the outset that I was fairly confident of winning. We decided on three rounds of judging: Round 1 - Lightest and Tastiest.  Round 2 - Most Heroic.  Round 3 - Most Appealing to the Average Dog.

Here is the spread, all laid out on my best lace tablecloth, as is only fitting. Mine are on the left, number 7.

The judging was undertaken very seriously. Some people even wanted pen and paper so they could write things down. There was muted discussion amongst the panel as to what desirable qualities were exhibited by which batch and why. Only Tim (above, with the beer) failed to give the task the serious consideration it deserved. He tried to pass off my rejects as his own entry, for example. I still suspect it was him who tried to use pen lids as extra judging tokens. Although he claims it must have been Judith.

Obviously a falsehood since Judith (above) was the clear, runaway winner with more than double the points of anyone else. Her scones were magnificent, light, tall, fluffy, tasty.

Robyn and Chris sang a song by Paul Jarman called "Anzac Day" about the quietness of a small country town that lost many of its sons in WW1. Very touching.

Round 2 of the judging was for the category "Most Heroic". Neighbour Susan was a worthy winner here, with each scone bearing a little Aussie flag and nestled in rosemary.

Round 3 Most Appealing to an Average Dog, required canine judges. Jinx, a Belgian barge dog who lives next door,  seemed to know what was required of her.

She sniffed several offerings, then tasted Number 9. Gudrun and Ross's scones were the ones chosen. At this point, Billy the labrador was invited to join the canine judging team and started by sniffing the one nearest to him. Then he went back to Tim, to get permission to eat. Good dog, Billy. He knows who's boss. Then Billy went straight over to the other side and ate the very scones made by his mummy, Mrs Boss, Jen.

Then he returned to his start place and methodically went around the circle, cleaning up all the other competitors, one by one. It took him all of thirty seconds.

Having eaten everything else available, he gently ate Jinx's scone as well. She was taking too long.

There were a few more recitations after that, lubricated by champagne and beer. I read from Dorothea Mackellar's "My Country" with that famous line "A wide brown land for me" which everyone joined in on. Ross (above) read a poem that reminded him of his mother as a child, riding to school on a horse.

Matilda the chook enjoyed the day a lot. She loved my scones. She's a loyal little friend. But I have to confess, she was the only one who did. My pride in my scone making prowess took a fall. They were rather pale and solid. I blame the oven. David, bless him, claims he still thinks my scones are wonderful. He is manfully eating his way through the remainder. Hmm, I think I need to talk to Judith. Apparently she also makes the best lemon meringue pie on the planet.