Granny’s Fruit Scones Resipe

Granny’s Fruit Scones Resipe

I grew up with the smell of warm fruit scones drifting through the kitchen, the kind that made you pause and breathe it in like it was part of home. My granny never made a fuss about anything. She moved around the bowls and flour with that calm way of hers, and she always measured, every time, like it was her little promise that the scones would come out right.

I remember her smile, the soft lift of her eyes as she told me these scones were easy, as sure as she handed me the recipe she kept folded in her apron. She trusted I would keep it safe, the same way she trusted the oven to rise the dough every time.

Those afternoons stay with me. The kettle humming, the table warm, the fruit shining in the bowl before it went into the mix. Life felt slower then, softer around the edges, like the world stepped back and let us breathe.

So I wanted to share this recipe again. Nothing clever, nothing fancy, just the way she did it. A small taste of the past, ready to warm a cold morning or settle a long evening. Something carrying a little piece of her, for anyone who needs it. Below is the recip.

Granny’s Fruit Scones

A simple, homely recipe written in a clear, friendly way, using grams instead of cups. Easy to follow, no fuss, just how a good old-fashioned scone should be.

Ingredients

300g self-raising flour

60g cold butter, cut into small pieces

40g caster sugar

100g mixed dried fruit (raisins, sultanas, or chopped mixed fruit)

1 large egg

120ml milk (you may need a touch more)

A little extra milk for brushing

A pinch of salt

Method

1. Prepare the base.

Heat your oven to 200°C. Line a baking tray with a sheet of baking paper.

2. Rub in the butter.

Tip the flour and salt into a bowl, add the cold butter, and rub it in with your fingertips until it looks like fine crumbs.

3. Add sugar and fruit.

Stir the caster sugar and the dried fruit through the crumb mixture.

4. Bring the dough together.

Beat the egg with the milk. Pour most of it into the bowl and gently mix with a table knife. Add the last splash only if the dough feels dry. It should be soft, not sticky.

5. Shape the scones.

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Pat it down gently with your hands until it is about 2cm thick.

Use a round cutter, press straight down, and lift without twisting.

6. Bake.

Place the scones on the tray, brush the tops with a little milk, and bake for 12–15 minutes until risen and golden.

7. Cool and serve. Leave them to cool on a rack for a few minutes. Serve warm with butter, jam, or cream. Let me know if you try them ♦️♥️♦️

Add a faint hint of cinnamon or mixed spice for a cosy, nostalgic taste. Sprinkle a tiny dusting of sugar on top before baking for a gentle crunch. It’s very emotional typing this out. Every stroke of the pen takes me back to a secure and happy past. A past that made me feel warm inside. Her ginger biscuits were wow, simple as that.

My dad used to dip them in his pint cup of tea, and he always had that big smile, the knack of always getting the last bite of everything his mam cooked for us all. At Christmas she would make gingerbread men and we would ice them together. I would always draw a smile on my gingerbread man, playing with him for hours like he was my little friend.Then when hunger was born in my belly, I would bite off his head lol, oh happy days.