This past weekend was bitterly cold. Like below zero before the windchill could be factored in, and while we had power and a full tank of oil, the house got cold. By Sunday I decided the only thing to do was turn on the oven and bake.

I found a recipe from Food52 for Cinnamon Scone Bread, pulled out my pastry cutter and the marble rolling board that had been sitting in the cabinet for over a year. And it felt so good to read the recipe, find the ingredients, and break out some pastry skills. I hadn’t cut butter into flour in ages and finding the delicate line where flour and egg and milk just turn to dough, and then working it gently on the board was exactly what I needed.

It felt a little like coming home. And in a sense, it was a homecoming. The marble board was a gift from my Mom, and the Thanksgiving pies were rolled out on it for as long as I can remember, until it came to live with me. She and my sister were almost there with me, laughing and joking and reading the recipe wrong. When I was done, the house was warmer, the scent was heavenly, and it also happened to be Valentine’s Day. It turned out to be “one of the best things you’ve ever baked,” according to my Valentine.

Warm bread, warm home, warm heart.