So your invitation to the royal wedding got lost in the mail, too? Don't fret. Live coverage of the April 29 nuptials is to commence around 4:30 a.m. Twin Cities time, which is a fine time to settle in front of the telly with a basketful of freshly baked scones.

Really. Traditional British cream scones come together in minutes (you can even measure the ingredients the night before). They bake in the time it will take an attendant to fasten all the buttons on Kate Middleton's gown.

Scones are Scottish in origin, but quickly caught on throughout the British Isles, and the subsequent Empire. Their delicate, not-too-sweet character welcomes the addition of dried fruit such as the traditional currants, but also raisins, dried cherries or even our own colonial invention, dried cranberries.

Having said that, don't let the presence of currants persuade you that scones in any way contribute to your two to four daily servings of fruit.

The truth is that scones are a bit naughty, since the best are made with cream. If consumed willy-nilly, they're not conducive to wearing the sort of sheer frock that Kate once modeled for a charity fashion show, rendering the prince officially smitten.

Successful scones are the essence of simplicity, relying on two important concepts: One, thoroughly whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt to avoid any pockets of bitter baking powder once baked. And two, stir in the cream until everything is well-moistened, but don't overmix.

Because of their tendency to spread while baking, scones go into a hot 400-degree oven for a few minutes to set the dough, then finish baking in reduced heat until they're just golden. With a pot of tea -- or, let's face it, at that hour of the morning coffee is acceptable -- you'll be set from the arrival of the carriage to the waves from the balcony.

A final note: The word "scone" does not rhyme with "Sloane" (as in Ranger) but with "gone," which is what these quick breads will be before you know it.