Let’s be honest—there are only three reasons you ever consider making shortbread at home:
- You want to show off to guests that you’re the sort of person who makes biscuits from scratch.
- You crave something that’s technically “just butter, sugar and flour,” but tastes like a hug from your gran.
- You’ve read my book, Highland Fling, and you want to channel your inner Jack McAllan—the kind of Highland hero who not only wears kilts but can whip up shortbread that could make Mary Berry weep.
If you tick any of the above, congratulations. You’re in the right place. And if you’re looking for a recipe where you actually have to work up a sweat creaming butter by hand, you’re out of luck. This one is strictly for the lazy-but-luxurious amongst us: food processor required, kilts optional.
Why Rice Flour?
Ah, rice flour—the secret ingredient for shortbread that snaps and crunches and makes you feel like you’re eating something that cost £8.99 for a box of six at an Edinburgh deli. Plus, it’s vaguely gluten-free-adjacent. Add in gluten-free flour and you can nod thoughtfully about “digestibility” while sneaking another piece.
The Ingredients (Quality Matters)
- 225g unsalted butter, the best you can afford (If you have to remortgage the house, do it for the butter.)
- 110g caster sugar (plus extra for dusting)
- 225g plain flour
- 110g rice flour
- Pinch of sea salt (optional, but come on—treat yourself)
Method: The Lazy Highland Way
- Chuck the butter and sugar into your food processor. Blitz until pale and fluffy. Stare out the window and pretend you’re in a windswept glen.
- Add both flours and salt. Pulse until the dough just comes together in soft, buttery lumps. (If it looks like crumbs, squeeze it—if it sticks, you’re golden.)
- Tip the dough onto a floured surface. Pat into a round about 1cm thick, or use a rolling pin.
- Cut into fingers, wedges, or—if you want to impress—hearts. Transfer to a lined baking tray.
- Chill for 20-30 minutes. (You too, if you like.)
- Bake at 160°C (fan) for 25-30 mins or until just turning gold at the edges. Don’t let them go brown—this isn’t a digestive biscuit.
- Sprinkle with sugar while still warm. Try not to eat one straight off the tray. (Fail. Regret nothing.)
The Jack McAllan Factor
Jack, the leading man in Highland Fling, doesn’t buy his shortbread in tartan tins from the airport. No, he makes it himself—probably wearing a cable-knit jumper and looking rugged while doing it. The kind of man who knows good butter, and isn’t afraid to use it liberally.
He’d approve of this recipe—simple, honest and devastatingly moreish. And if you’re in the mood for Highland romance (and more biscuit content), Highland Fling is your next read. There’s love, laughter and, crucially, a lot of home baking.
Final Thoughts
Shortbread is, essentially, an edible love letter. Make it with real butter. Share with friends (or hoard, I won’t judge). And if you want to meet a man who’ll bake it for you, you’ll find him in Highland Fling—along with enough Scottish scenery to make you crave a walk and a nap.
Happy baking! Let me know how yours turns out (unless you eat it all before anyone else gets a look in, which is, frankly, the Scottish way).
