SHORT AND SWEET
Shortbread is a family tradition, and rather Christmassy, too, says Jo Seagar.
‘IHAVE made this for you.’’ These must be the nicest words in the English language. I always think when someone bakes for you, it’s something very special.
I love baking because I always know exactly what’s gone into it, rather than eating something you got in a packet with ingredients that start off as words and end in numbers.
I admit that I do bake for the praise I get at the end of it.
I’m never precious about giving away my recipes. If someone likes something particular in our cafe in Oxford I say ‘‘let me give you the recipe and you can make it at home yourself’’. Recipes are like kisses. I happily give them away.
This recipe for shortbread came from a dear family friend, Thelma. I remember staying with Thelma as a child, probably only 10 years old at the time, and baking shortbread with her. I already had my own little collection of recipes in a book and I wrote this one down.
I remember Thelma saying it was imperative to add the three rows of fork pricks. To this day I don’t know why this was so important, but I always do it.
It’s such a simple recipe with just four ingredients: flour, cornflour, icing sugar and butter. But they are meltin-your-mouth tender. Perfect with a cup of tea. These are a firm family favourite now and quite a nice biscuit to have around Christmas time.
We have always had a delicious Christmas, loaded with various traditions. One is when we toast absent friends towards the end of the meal. We always have to put a foot on the table as we make this toast.
It’s an especially poignant toast this year because I recently lost my mother.
She was 87 and she was ready to go but I was unprepared for the profound sadness of being orphaned.
My mum, Fay, was a lawyer, a mother and a great baker. I have collated a lot of her recipes alongside those of my granny Win, and Aunty Peg. These are recipes that have been passed down
friend. through the generations that I have modernised a little.
As a child we’d have huge family Christmases. There’d be various eccentric aunts and uncles, the lonely old guy from down the road, a couple of hitchhikers who were passing through, some friend from overseas. We’d have to get the kitchen, dining and cards tables all lined up, sometimes a door on trestle legs as well, to fit us all.
This year our Christmas will be pretty low-key – my husband Ross, my two children and two grandchildren. It’ll be a jandals, T-shirt and BBQ Christmas.
I’ve been growing raspberries to have with our champagne. There’s a strict note beside the bush: ‘‘DO NOT EAT.’’
For lunch, we’re thinking a boned breast of turkey, a shoulder of lamb with citrus, salt and rosemary. Festive family fare, all made with love.
It’s an especially poignant toast this year because I recently lost my mother. She was 87 and she was ready to go but I was unprepared for the profound sadness of being orphaned.
Jo Seagar Bakes ($55) is out now. Makes 25 250g butter, softened to room temperature cup icing sugar cup cornflour 11⁄ cups flour Preheat the oven to 150 degrees Celsius. Line a baking tray with baking paper.
Beat the butter and icing sugar together until creamy. Mix in the cornflour and flour until well combined.
On a flour-dusted surface, roll out the dough to 1cm thick and cut into fingers about 3cm x 8cm.
Place these carefully on the prepared tray and prick each piece three times with a fork. Reroll the scraps until you have used all the dough.
Sometimes you end up with a funny little bit at the end, but this is known as the ‘‘cook’s tip’’. You can eat that one as a check that they are all cooked properly.
Chill the tray for 15 minutes in the fridge or 5 minutes in the freezer.
Bake for 15-20 minutes, then lower the temperature to 130C and cook a further 10 minutes. The biscuits shouldn’t brown at all but be pale and golden and crisp.
Cool a few minutes on the tray, then carefully remove to a wire rack to cool completely. Store in an airtight container for a week to 10 days.