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I'm very excited to say that I am about to become an aunt for the first time. It's been a voyage of discovery: 8 months ago I knew next to nothing about pregnancy or babies. Some things are strange, like seeing someone you've known for almost 30 years suddenly balloon out in just one part of her body, as if perennially bloated, except that she can't suck it in. Then there's her cravings (it's been dumplings—I like this kid already) and what I so tactfully call the alien factor (there are tiny fingers and toes, inside my sister, weird.) But aside from all that, there's been an entry into the world of baby stuff, which, if you didn't know, is about a 10 gazillion dollar market.
I'm not going to even get into how much a stroller costs (let's just say my future child can either learn how to walk or stay home)—I'll focus on the oodles of cute things, like socks that are printed to look like the baby is wearing converse sneakers (!) and a little bath robe-cape thing that, once donned, will make it look like a panda bear is eating my nephew's head.
Because you couldn't possibly buy all this stuff yourself, you have a baby shower. Or rather, you have your sister throw a baby shower for you. Then she will spend weeks researching tiny versions of normal food, as if all the guests coming to the shower are babies themselves.
For example, why serve normal sized peach scones when you could serve mini scones scaled down so that they would look normal sized—if they were being held by a baby?
It makes sense to me. Which is why I created this scone recipe. They're tiny, rectangular, and drizzled with a light glaze. (Baby went to Starbucks!). I diced up ripe summer peaches to about 1/8-inch pieces. My trick to getting them evenly distributed is to roll out the dough, sprinkle on the peaches, fold the dough in on itself, roll out, and fold again until there is a uniform peachiness. This is also fun and calming to do. Once baked, the scones are tender and light, with a nice added sweetness from the glaze. Let's hope baby approves.
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