Making short work of it...

Shortbread is a national treasure, and Sue Lawrence can't resist it. Here she extols its versatility

There I was, all trussed up in white coat, matching hat and snood, watching the Prickle Dockers at work. But as I watched them being rolled with great speed across the tray of dough then rolled back in the other direction, I could hardly concentrate on anything apart from the aroma.

To paraphrase Burns, “Oh what a glorious smell.” Sweet, buttery, homely and utterly tantalising.

Eat your heart out, Charlie Bucket. Nothing – not even an entire chocolate factory – could smell as alluring as warm, freshly-baked shortbread.

The smell was not simply one of the most pleasing in the world, it was also a direct link back to my childhood, to those garden fétes and church fairs in the endless summers of youth, where I would stand in long queues to buy tablet, home-made macaroon bars and shortbread.

Shortbread, whose enticing aroma had wafted to my nostrils as it baked in my mother's or friends' mothers' kitchens.

That warm, buttery aroma was childhood's neverending summer; the taste was pure Proust. It escapes me why anyone, given the choice between a dry old madeleine and a melt-in-the-mouth, buttery piece of ‘shortie', would choose the French offering.

But before I extol the question of taste, I must reveal the location of my shortbread epiphany .

The town of Huntly in rural Aberdeenshire is where, back in 1975, Helen Dean decided to bake shortbread to raise money for the Huntly pipe band of which her husband was drum major. It was so popular that soon Helen opened h...

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• By : Sue Lawrence
• In : Food
• Issue : 23
• Page : 48
• Words : 1,149