My sister Karen makes the nicest, most beautiful scones in the whole world. If there was an Olympic Games for scones, not only would she win the gold medal for Ireland and stand proudly on the podium, she would also be the perpetual holder of an unassailable world record for the best home-baking.

My sister is stylish and highly accomplished in her profession, and I have no doubt that when her husband, Robert, first met her these qualities ignited the relationship.

However, Robert might be classed as something of a lifelong connoisseur of cakes, coffee shops and confectionary and the quality of my sister’s baking competencies would not have escaped his notice. He remains a dedicated enthusiast for her weekly, sometimes daily baking.

Karen’s baking pedigree stems from an inheritance that is shared by my first cousins and before them, my many wonderful aunts who used to bake each and every day. In turf and coal-fired ranges and later, in gas or electric cookers, soda breads, brown breads, brown scones and white fruit scones were a daily affair.

They would also turn out perfectly baked Victoria sponges and flans along with all manner of queen and fairy cakes that were sweetened with jam and icing. For variety, they might turn their hands to producing Madeiras, coffee cakes, drizzle cakes, barmbracks, and porter cakes.

At Christmas, they took pride in making countless puddings, along with rich, whiskey-drenched fruit cakes encased in almond icing. They were masters of pastry-making that provided the perfect short, crunching crust for apple or rhubarb tarts.

The sweetened juices of the fruit sometimes permeated the pastry crust and caramelised into an irresistible sticky fruit toffee. The thought of it reminds me of the old riddle: what is the best thing to put in an apple tart? Answer: your teeth!

The baker’s kitchen needs to be well-equipped, and a large mixing bowl is a cherished item. The thick, heavy, stoneware, cream-glazed bowl, such as those made by Mason Cash from Derbyshire, have long been a favourite. Its clever angular base allowed it to be tilted and nestled into the hip when vigorous mixing or whisking was called for.

Home baker

The consummate home-bakers will have a solid electric mixer, most likely something like the Kenwood Chef, still going strong after 60-odd years. There is also a need for a sturdy rolling pin, the trusty wooden spoon, crimped tin cutters, a measuring jug, a handy weighing scales, and an array of baking tins and trays.

There is a delicate art to lining a tin, carefully cutting the greaseproof paper or covering from the shop-bought sliced pan and greasing it in place by rubbing it with butter.

The thought of it reminds me of the old riddle: what is the best thing to put in an apple tart? Answer: your teeth!

The baker’s larder must have what the French call ‘les incontournables’, the absolute essentials, in the form of plain and self-raising flour, soft brown, icing, demerara and caster sugars, sultanas, raisins, glacé cherries, candied peel, the freshest eggs and soft Irish butter at room temperature.

For aspiring young bakers, amassing this inventory of equipment and essential ingredients is an important step towards becoming a successful baker. However, it needs one extra substantial addition, one which in this day and age is rare and difficult to source: time and dedication.

Baking is a craft, an art, an act of sensual expression where the cakes and tarts of the baker manifest an intimate communication with those who eat them.

When I call to my sister and she presents me with one of her freshly-made fruit scones, covered with jam and cream, she is recreating a cherished timeless moment. It is a familial ritual of repeated shared experience that joins us to the simple everyday pleasures of the many generations that have gone before.

Karen’s scones are the present incarnation of a long-lived tradition that speaks of forethought, dedication, hospitality and above all, love.