Maple Scones, A Taste of Vermont

84 CommentsFriday • March 19, 2010 • by Ari

I love Vermont. Of all the places I’ve visited in my lifetime, Vermont is the place that I think about on hectic afternoons, when I fantasize about my life ten years from now.

I love its rustic solitude, with towns cradled between towering mountains.

I love how eloquently it showcases the vibrant colors of Fall…

And Spring and Summer…

And Winter…

And what foodblogger wouldn’t love a state that makes some of the best maple syrup ever?

Fresh strawberries and 4-grain pancakes. Thank goodness for hubbys that know how to cook right?

Vermont is someplace I’ve been to many times, but I didn’t fall in love with it until this past November, when my husband surprised me with birthday/Chanukkah/babymoon trip to Jeffersonville. He took me to a cozy Vermont cabin complete with a fire, a king-sized bed and a kitchen window that looked out into the forest. He made breakfast every morning. And he planned some of the most lovely days I’ve ever experienced – days filled with apple cider donuts and chocolate and trips to little bookstores, where we spent time in the children’s section and looked for books to read to our baby one day. We bought all the classics and threw The Field Guide to Dragons in there for good measure. It will be many years before our little guy is old enough to enjoy it, but it was just too cool to pass up. I don’t remember books being this neat when I was a kid.

In the evenings, my husband took me out for dinners at some of the most unassuming, surprisingly delicious places. Rustic lodges with roaring fireplaces and menus filled with comfort food from top to bottom. Houses turned Italian restaurants high up in the mountains with lasagne so satisfying that sometimes I’m tempted to drive the five hours north just to get myself a slice. After dinner we would walk around Stowe, admiring the shops and breathing in the crisp Autumn air. One night my husband surprised me with a pair of Dana Kellin earrings that had both of our birthstones woven into a golden teardrop design. He gave me the matching necklace after our son arrived in January.

Hot chocolate in hand my husband snapped an iPhone photo. Ignore my mismatched socks on the right.

At night – every night – my husband built a fire for us and we drank hot chocolate together while he read The Hobbit to my 7-months pregnant belly. He said it was important for our baby to hear his daddy’s voice – though I must admit, I enjoyed hearing the story too.

My life is not perfect. My parents didn’t support us during our pregnancy scare. They didn’t visit when my son was born, nor did they go to his bris – my father told me it was “too cold in January” for them to make the trip from California. Today our baby is two-months old and they have never seen him. The same can be said of my grandmother and my brother, who lives around the block and has never called or emailed, though he knows he has a nephew. I don’t know if my family will ever be a part of my son’s life, but I do know that my husband has made it possible for me to move past their actions and look forward to life with my new family – my husband, baby and I. We can’t choose the families we are born with, but we can create new ones and give them the kind of support and affection we always wished for. Needless to say, I think my husband is amazing.

I wish we could have stayed in Vermont for more than a few days, but the time we spent there – oh what memories! We stopped at the Dutch Pancake Cafe on our way out of town, which is a glorious place with more than 80 kinds of mouth-watering pancakes. My husband ordered an apple-blueberry pancake, while I went the savory route with a shredded potato, onion and cheese pancake served with applesauce. It was so good. I have dreams about that pancake.

2-months old today!

Now it’s March and our munchkin is here. I tell my husband that we should take our little man to Vermont next year, perhaps for our sixth wedding anniversary. I can’t imagine a better place to explore nature with our son than Vermont, with its maple trees and farms and lakes and so many other wonderful things. In the meantime, I’ll relive a bit of Vermont, every now and then, with maple treats made with real Vermont syrup. Like these scones, with their fluffy, butter texture and rich maple sweetness. A taste of heaven, if you ask me.

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