Real Scotch Shortbread (or so the recipe claims)

Millions of people in the US are losing food benefits. If you are considering buying groceries to drop off at your local food bank, think about donating money directly to them instead. Food banks often buy food at bulk rates, so your money will feed more people than if you did the shopping yourself. And of course, the people in charge of food banks have a firsthand view of what foods are needed. 

Right, on with the shortbread...

I have no idea if this is Scottish.

Real Scotch Shortbread* 3 tbsp lard or shortening 5 tbsp butter ¾ tsp water 2 cups flour ¼ cup sugar ⅛ tsp baking soda ⅛ tsp salt (omit if butter is salted) 2 oz currants† 1½ oz candied orange peel (if desired) Heat oven to 300°. Line your baking sheets with ungreased paper. Melt the butter and shortening. Stir in the water and set aside to cool until becomes cloudy and about as thick as a batter, but not until it completely re-solidifies. While the butter is cooling, mix the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt. When combined, stir in the currants. Mix in the cooled butter. You should have a firm dough. Add flour if it is sticky, or water if it is dry and crumbly. Divide the dough into 2 portions. Place them onto papered baking sheets and pat into circles a half-inch thick (or a little less). Decoratively pinch and crimp the edges with your fingers. Then cut a circle into the center with a small round cookie cutter. With a knife, cut the outer ring into six or eight sections. Sprinkle with candied peel, gently pressing it into the dough. Bake for 45-60 minutes. The original recipe doesn't say how to tell when they're done, so I took mine out of the oven when they were golden on top. After removing from the oven, redo the cuts you made before baking. Allow to cool completely. Then sift powdered sugar on top. *That's the original recipe name. We make no promise of whether this recipe is "real Scotch." †Because this recipe was published in the United States, this almost certainly means Zante currants, not blackcurrants. Since Zante currants are raisins made from a particularly runty type of grape, I just used chopped raisins. Source: Mrs. Mary Martensen's Century of Progress Cook Book (recipes from The Chicago American), 1933, via The Internet Archive

America has a long tradition of publishing "authentic" recipes that no one would recognize in the purported country of origin. Given the cost of international travel (unless it's to Canada or Mexico), it was easy to get away with this before the internet. Somewhat infamously, chop suey was a "foreign" delicacy for decades before word got out that it isn't from China.

However, Mrs. Mary Martensen and the staff at the Chicago American made the daring move to publish a "real Scotch" recipe in a souvenir cookbook to sell at the 1933 World's Fair. You know, a place where people from all over the world come to visit and buy things to take home.

Mrs. Mary Martensen's Century of Progress Cook Book (recipes from The Chicago American), 1933, via The Internet Archive

Like so many people in the US, I know nearly nothing about Scotland. I don't even know which side of a kilt is the front. Despite my ignorance, I do know that shortbread is traditional enough for people to have beliefs about the capitalized One True Way. From what I've read, it's supposed to contain butter, flour, sugar, and nothing else. This recipe, however, starts with currants. And to make things worse, we're using raisins instead.

Setting aside our possibly heretical ingredients, we needed to melt the butter. These days, I melt the butter on the stove. It seems like most times I melt butter in the microwave, I hear a loud POP and find it dripping off the ceiling. Butter boils a lot on the stove, but it stays in its little pot. So it takes a bit longer, but it also saves time because I don't have to stop and wipe.

Instead of getting the specified "rather stiff dough," our mixture was a crumbly mess. I appreciate that the directions tell us how this should look, otherwise I would have gamely tried to force this to work and then muttered darkly about Scottish people and their Scottish recipes when it failed.

After adding a few light splashes of water, the dough behaved exactly as the recipe specified. We are told to divide it into eight portions. But since the recipe starts off with a half-gallon of flour (that's a scant kilo for our metric friends), I cut it down to one eighth of its original amount. After shaping our single shortbread as specified and pinching the edges, it kind of looked like a beer cap.

As the baking time got longer and longer, I could see why the original recipe makes so much shortbread. If you're going to run the oven for nearly an hour, you might as well put a lot of food in there.

Ah, I can hear Flowers of Edin-burrah playing in the distance!

This is really filling. It doesn't seem like it's meant to be a snack or a treat, but something that keeps you going for hours. Like, you will not go hungry if you pack this with you. I brought it with me for a long drive, and it was absolutely perfect for the journey. And it has a very impressive shelf life- even if you're a bit lazy about putting it in an airtight container. It was perhaps a little bland, but I was glad I brought it.