By December 2029. Christmas approach and the cookie-making that marks it. This year I made all the cookies over two days, alone, which was the first time in thirty years I'd made the Christmas cookies without at least one child in the kitchen. Gary helped on Sunday afternoon — he's good at the spritz cookies, oddly, and has perfected a chocolate-dipped end that the family expects now. We made them together, the two of us, the kitchen full of the smell of butter and vanilla, and it was quiet and good.
Noah flies home Wednesday. Olivia flies in Thursday. Mason is a twenty-minute drive. Ethan and Mia will come Christmas Eve. The house will be full again for four days and I've been preparing for it the way I prepare for it every year, including this year when the house was quiet leading up to it. The preparation doesn't change. The love that motivates it doesn't change. The food tastes the same whether it was made in a quiet kitchen or a loud one.
I submitted the fourth book manuscript on December 20th. Sixty-two thousand words. It was done on a Saturday morning at nine and Gary was in the kitchen when I closed the laptop and I said, "It's done," and he put down the coffee and walked over and held me for a moment, which is the right response and which I'll always remember as the gesture that accompanied finishing. He didn't say anything. The silence was better than anything he could have said.
Four books. From one chicken soup video to four books. From eight women in a community center to four books and 700,000 subscribers and a granddaughter eating sweet potato at her first Thanksgiving. The year ends and the life continues.
The spritz cookies were Gary’s territory this year, but the shortbread has always been mine — the one I make in a quiet moment, no instruction needed, the recipe so deep in my hands I don’t look at a card anymore. Finishing the manuscript on a Saturday morning and then standing in that same kitchen two days later, pressing dough into a pan, felt like exactly the right way to close out the year: something simple, something that feeds people, something that will be on the plate when Noah and Olivia and all of them walk through the door. This is the recipe I keep coming back to.
Scottish Shortbread
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 24 pieces
Ingredients
- 2 cups (4 sticks) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
- 1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (for topping)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 325°F (165°C). Line a 9x13-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the sides for easy lifting.
- Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3–4 minutes. Add the vanilla extract and mix to combine.
- Add flour and salt. Reduce mixer speed to low. Add the flour and salt and mix just until the dough comes together and no dry streaks remain — do not overmix.
- Press into pan. Turn the dough out into the prepared pan and use your fingers or the flat bottom of a measuring cup to press it into an even layer about 1/2 inch thick.
- Score and top. Use a sharp knife or bench scraper to score the dough into rectangles or squares (do not cut all the way through). Prick each piece several times with a fork to create the classic shortbread pattern. Sprinkle evenly with granulated sugar.
- Bake. Bake for 28–32 minutes, until the edges are lightly golden and the center is just set. The shortbread should look pale — do not let it brown.
- Cut and cool. Remove from the oven and immediately re-cut along the scored lines while still warm. Allow to cool completely in the pan before lifting out using the parchment overhang. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to two weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 55mg