Shortbread and Fractured Memories

I made shortbread cookies last night, and here's why.

On Monday evening, I was on the schedule of people who are cooking for a family of four small children. Their father is away on business for the week, and their mother is very ill, pregnant with her fifth child and unable to keep anything down. My pregnancies were like that, so I know how much this woman needs us to feed her kids. I made a simple dinner, something I thought people who are 2, 4, 6, and 8 would eat without too much complaining, and I packed up my car. I made tiny cheeseburgers on tiny buns and gelatin jiggly things made with organic grape juice. Then I grabbed a bag of baby carrots, some Gold Fish, and some potato chips, and I drove to the address on my instruction sheet.

I pulled into the driveway and thought, "Hey, I've been here before." This house these hungry little kids are running wild in while their mother lays motionless and dehydrated on the couch used to be owned by an old friend of mine, a woman named Val. I haven't thought of her in years.

I brought my haul into the kitchen and looked around. Yep, it was the same house. I had a ball with these kids—they were each angels, eating the burgers and carrots and just a few chips. They gobbled up the grape thing-a-ma-bobs, and then we colored with the crayons and coloring books I brought for them. I played with race cars and silly toddler toys, and I started remembering Val.

She was kind of flamboyant, and I specifically remember a flowing, sage green coat of hers that she bought while on a weekend trip to New York. She liked to put her family on the train and go there for a Broadway show now and then and a little shopping. Val had a daughter of babysitting age when my girls needed a babysitter, so we became fast friends. This girl, whose name escapes me, was amazing. She had taken a class in Girl Scouts on how to properly babysit children, and she would show up at my house ready to work. She would come with her own satchel of toys and activities and books to read, and she wasn't afraid of the kitchen. She made shortbread cookies one day from a recipe she found in an Anne of Green Gables cookbook, and I loved them so much she wrote the recipe down in the back of one of my cookbooks.

This girl had a thing for Anne of Green Gables, and her father took her to Prince Edward Island on vacation just to tour all the places from the series. This was before he was convicted of embezzling funds from his insurance company and sent off to prison for a few years. Sometime after that, Val divorced and eventually sold her house, and the girl left for college never to return to Small Town.

Now their old house belongs to the woman with all the kids in need of feeding and some attention. Just being in that kitchen brought back long-lost memories and made me hungry for those shortbread cookies.

So, here they are, and they're just as good as when the girl made them. Some day I'll remember her name. Then maybe I can thank her.





Shortbread Cookies

1 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 cups flour
Pinch of salt
1/4 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat oven to 350. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Cream the butter in an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add powdered sugar and beat until smooth.

In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, salt and baking powder and slowly add to butter mixture. Mix just until combined and dough forms. Roll or pat dough on a lightly floured surface to about 1-inch thick and cut into squares. Poke each cookie with the tines of a fork and bake for 15-20 minutes or until lightly browned. The larger the cookies, the longer they will need to bake. Allow to cool on a rack.