Emma Cooks the Books

There are many ways to cope with heartbreak in the Scottish Highlands. Long walks. Fresh air. A stern chat with yourself in a lay-by. Or, if you’re in Highland Fling, the time honoured method is tea and shortbread.

This recipe is the one that quietly appears throughout the book whenever emotions are running high and nobody wants to admit it. In Lochalshie, feelings are rarely discussed directly, but they are aggressively catered for. If someone arrives at your door upset, shocked, furious or pretending they are completely fine, the kettle goes on and a plate of something buttery appears within minutes.

So this is not a delicate baking project or a lifestyle moment. This is practical Highlands coping. It is the bake you make when life has gone sideways, visitors have opinions and you require both comfort and a reason to stand in the kitchen avoiding your problems.

Below is the exact sort of shortbread Gaby keeps finding herself fed while trying to get her life back together.

The shortbread (easy, buttery, no nonsense)

Ingredients

• 225g salted butter, softened (if using unsalted, add a good pinch of salt)
• 110g caster sugar
• 225g plain flour
• Optional (but excellent): 55g rice flour for extra “snap”
• Optional: extra caster sugar for sprinkling

Method

1. Heat oven to 160°C fan (180°C conventional). Line a tin (roughly 20cm square) or use a round tin if you want it to look like you’ve got your life together.
2. Cream the butter and sugar until pale and soft.
3. Mix in the flour (and rice flour, if using). Don’t overwork it. Stop when it comes together like damp sand.
4. Press into the tin, smooth the top, and prick all over with a fork (oddly soothing).
5. Bake for 25–35 minutes, until the edges are just turning golden.
6. While warm, sprinkle with a little caster sugar if you like. Leave to cool, then cut into fingers/wedges/squares—whatever suits your emotional state.

Quick tips:

• Softened butter is the difference between “effortless” and “why is this like gravel?”

• If you want that classic shortbread texture, rice flour is your wee secret weapon.
• Slightly underbaked is better than overbaked. Shortbread should melt.

If you make this, you’re basically halfway to living in the Highlands already. All you need is a dramatic sky, a mildly judgmental neighbour and someone attractive turning up at the worst possible moment.

A tiny excerpt:

Jolene rustles the papers in her hands, flipping a page over so she can read the relevant bit. “First prize in the Highland Games is a ‘wee dod o’ shortbread’”.

“Shortbread?” I say, “Big wow. Jack makes the best shortbread I’ve ever eaten.” I nod at him. His face doesn’t flicker. “But is it enough of an incentive?”

There must be better possibilities. People come to the games for… Big Men. Big Muscles. Strength. Whisked away on a Highland Tour…

Want the book that goes with the biscuits? Here’s Highland Fling: