Today is 10 years since my Dad died. I’d planned on baking some fruit scones, a favourite sweet treat of my Dad, to remember and celebrate him. My oven, however, had other ideas and the element went pop last night, taking any capacity for heat with it. This upset me a lot, more than a broken oven should or would normally. I give a lot of thought each year to how to celebrate the deathiversaries of both of my parents. How to remember them in a way that feels authentic, that feels like a celebration, like a treat. And in a way that they would have appreciated. Having my plans taken away from me the evening before really unbalanced me, making me realise just how important these rituals are.

I wasn’t prepared to cancel my plans altogether without giving a bit more thought. I have a stovetop iron baking stone - bought during some of the flatbread experiments of last year - and I remembered there was a recipe for griddle scones on the information sheet. I’ve no idea where that sheet is now, but I used t’internet and found this recipe for Singing hinnies. It seemed simple and had ingredients and materials I had to hand. So that’s what I made. My Dad loved pancakes. And he loved scones. These are somewhere between the two.

I know that he would have appreciated my reluctance to be thwarted by my oven element and would have enjoyed my acceptance of the situation and my ‘make the best of it’ attitude.