Grandma’s shortbread recipe reaches back through time

I can still remember Liza’s hands — those strong, lined hands of my Grandma Skinner’s, delicately tapered at the fingertips — working their way through a bowl of Scottish shortbread dough.

With each December came her holiday gift baking, and I was her indefatigable helper. I measured out the dusty cups of flour, and kept an eagle eye on the oven as the rounds magically transformed from pale raw dough to lightly golden objects of much family anticipation.

There was nothing unique about the ingredients — just flour, sugar and butter, in decadently rich proportions. But the outcome depended on a thorough blending by hand. “It’s the warmth of my hands that makes the dough just right,” she would explain in her tender Scottish lilt. No electric mixer. Shortbread dough needs a human touch to meet the standard set by Clan McMillan — our clan — many generations ago.

She would have tucked the hand-written cookbook containing the shortbread recipe into her suitcase when, as a young woman in the early 1920s, she left her little town of Stoneyburn, just outside of Edinburgh, to follow her betrothed to San Francisco. After decades of use, the little brown journal of family recipes — which I still use today — has become stained and torn.

Once the dough felt just right, Liza would press it into a beautiful wooden shortbread mold. The mold, about 8 inches in diameter and 3/4 inch deep, was hand-carved by a dear friend of Liza’s back in the early ’30s; a fellow Scot named Jimmy Warrender, who also found his way to San Francisco and hung out with Liza and her husband John at Clan Frazier gatherings. The center design of the mold, a dramatic, large thistle with two spiky leaves, was surrounded by an accordion-like spiral border. Using the mold, one batch of dough was exactly right for two rounds of shortbread.

It too was well-seasoned by the time I was helping her in the kitchen. A light dusting of flour was the only preparation necessary before Grandma gently pressed the dough into its surface. I would watch her give the treasured sculpture a few well-placed taps against the counter, then invert it over a paper-lined cookie sheet so the dough could obediently descend from its face, its top side now bearing the thistle design in relief. After a 30- to 40-minute stint in the oven, the wonderful rounds of lightly gold shortbread would emerge.

Once the baking was complete, Grandma Skinner would put the tea kettle on and we’d sit down to the extra round we’d made “just for us.” Barely cooled, it broke easily into tender morsels, crisp on the edge, velvety in the middle.

It was heaven.

We all have special people who have passed through our lives. Times when life was particularly sweet. And because the human mind is so fantastically wired, simple things like baking shortbread, or sipping a single-malt scotch, can kindle images of these people and times.

I still make my shortbread by hand, even though a food processor would make the task much easier. And, of course, it always lands me back in the family kitchen on Paloma Avenue, where I feel the warmth of Grandma Skinner’s hands guiding me through the process. I’ve come to realize that for Liza, following the recipe as written on those faded and torn pages, then gently pressing the dough into that special mold of Jimmy’s bridged an entire ocean. Doing it any time she wanted to feel the warmth of family afar in time and place.

Grandma Skinner’s Scottish shortbread

1 cup butter, softened to room temperature

1/2 cup granulated sugar

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Cream together butter and sugar, preferably using your hands. Gradually mix in the flour, kneading the dough until all of the flour is combined and the mixture is smooth.

If you lack a wooden shortbread mold, then you’ll have to choose from one of the following methods for baking.

For whole rounds: Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Line an ungreased 8-inch round cake pan with plastic wrap. Divide the dough into two pieces. Pat and press one piece of the dough at a time into the cake pan, spreading it out to reach the sides. Smooth the top surface so it is even. Flip the pan over onto one half of the cookie sheet (leaving space for the second round).

Lift off the baking pan and peel off the plastic wrap. Repeat that process with the second hunk of dough, leaving at least an inch of space between the two rounds to allow for expansion during baking. Using a fork, prick the rounds in a decorative pattern at many intervals to allow for steam to escape. If you want to get especially decorative, use the tines of the fork to press a pattern around the circumference of the dough. Bake in a 325 degree oven until golden brown, about 20 to 25 minutes. While still warm, cut the rounds into desired size of wedges.

For whole rounds baked in the pan: Chill dough, then press into the prepared 8-inch round (or 8-inch square; or one 9-by-13-inch baking pans lined with parchment. Prick all over with a fork and bake for about 40 to 45 minutes (until very lightly browned — just golden around the edges). Leave in the pan to cool thoroughly. While still slightly warm, cut into desired pieces (shortbread will not be crisp until completely cool).

For individual cookies: On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a thickness of about 3/8 of an inch. Cut into desired shapes and using a spatula, place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Prick each cookie with the tines of a fork to allow steam to escape and bake in a 350 degree oven for about 15 minutes, or until lightly golden brown around the edges.

Alternative options: Sprinkle the still-warm pieces of shortbread with 1 cup of chocolate chips or chunks. Let the chocolate soften completely, then spread as a thin layer and let cool completely. Or, mix 1 cup of chocolate chips or butterscotch chips into the dough before forming and baking.

Jan Roberts-Dominguez is a Corvallis food writer, artist, and author of “Oregon Hazelnut Country, the Food, the Drink, the Spirit,” and four other cookbooks. Readers can contact her by email at janrd@proaxis.com, or obtain additional recipes and food tips on her blog at www.janrd.com.