Now, I know I said I would do at least one of these recipes a month and I know I did two in January and one in February and we are suddenly in April and what happened there? I am here to reassure you, or to plead my case or something, but I promise I made these in March. The very end of March.
So. Smörbakelser. Swedish-American shortbread, which is easier for my pronunciation brain to get around having never learned a Scandinavian language. Shortbread is so clearly what this is. As for any Swedish or American component, well, I’m not sure. I am uneducated in the factors that make shortbread Swedish or American or Scottish, although I think I could pick out a Scottish shortbread recipe if you gave me a few. Recipes, that is. I’m not confident I could pick a shortbread region from a lineup of actual cookies. I have typed the word “shortbread” a number of times in this paragraph. Time to move on.
I have mixed feelings when I consider my experience with this cookie and recipe. I attempted it after taking E (with S) to dancing on Saturday morning. I also made a baked oatmeal at the same time and it seems that the kitchen gods could only allow one recipe to flourish. Not from the recipe, mind you, but from all that surrounded it. Girls can only play nicely for a certain amount of time. Glenn was home and had plans for the kitchen. Girls needing my attention protracted the time spent on the recipe which caused stress. Softening butter by placing it next to the air fryer vents worked too well, so I ended up with quite a soft mix that I ended up putting in the fridge for later.
“Later” turned out to be Sunday after church, but that meant I had buttery batter coming to room temperature the way lumps of anything do: not uniformly. When it came to rolling it out, some parts were a bit floppier than I would like and other parts still felt like a butter brick. And for extra fun, the weather was still too warm – even though we have definitely hit autumn now – so any re-rolling of dough had very very very soft and floppy dough to work with.
Also, note to self. A rolling pin with the measuring tool will come in handy in your life and you know this and it’s not like spending all the money you have on a Thermomix or anything. Measuring rolling pins are inexpensive. Get one.
Oh, also. At the cutting out the dough stage was when I realised we do not have a 4cm fluted circle cutter. We have a 6cm one, though, so that was what was used. Great for using what we have, and that was not a difference that would affect the recipe in any great way. Not so great for how many cookies you have or anything. I’m here to inform you that an approximately-rolled dough with a 6cm fluted cutter will yield (shudder) 17 cookies. I do not like prime numbers.
On the upside, these are a success. They taste like what a shortbread cookie should taste like. But. They spread a bit more than was indicated they would (“a tiny bit” instead of “none”). They were very much enjoyed by girls (yay) but that led to E, having been told a firm NO for any more because it is late in the afternoon, just taking another anyway from a still-hot tray. No injury, thankfully, but the sudden reach to stop her arm touching a hot tray meant my yoghurt tub flipped onto the floor so instead of having afternoon tea I got to clean up the floor and my legs and feet first.
So I am trying to remember the good. The container of cookies that won’t last the day helps attest to their worth. The firm crumble with a crunch of coarse sugar on the top is a winner. I’m not sure if I’ll make them again but you never know. I suppose I should learn how to pronounce them authentically first, though.
The Stuff of Our Life 