My mother has always been ahead of the curve. When flared jeans were in, she was wearing the skinniest pants ever and I thought she was so weird. Now I can’t get my jeans to be small enough at the bottom. Reliably, she is always in some shape of shoe that I think looks positively alien, but that I know we’ll all be wearing 1-2 years from now. And when I was little, so many years before the world went ga ga for Whole Foods, non-GMO, gluten-free, vegan food, Sherry Robinson inflicted a reign of health food upon our house. There were no artificial flavors or dyes, no soda, and very little in the way of processed food. Boy did I hate it. I used to trade my whole grain, all natural fig bars for fruit rollups (the REAL kind that were a color red not found in nature, so unlike the “fruit leather” my mother acquired at the crunchiest granola market that could ever exist, Ye Seekers. I’m serious, that’s what it was called).
Let me just go on record and say that I could not be more grateful to my mother for the torture she inflicted. As a result of her health food reign, I love all things fruit and vegetable, can’t stand coke (fine, “soda.” sue me, I’m still southern), and have a naturally self-protective aversion to artificial dyes. As the world of food production has become a scarier and scarier place, these tendencies have served me well. And in typical Sherry Robinson fashion, now everyone wants in on the trend. So thanks, mom. In your honor, here is a super simple, back-to-basics recipe for gingerbread scones, that no self-respecting child would trade for even the reddest of fruit rollups.