Title: Shortbread Cookie Princess
Author: Zelda Benjamin
Genre: Sweet Romance
Book Blurb:
Sophia MacLennan Porter grew up in an environment of wicked duplicity with a stepmother who was nice to dad and mean to his daughter. A series of events brings her to the upstate New York town of Highland Falls and her late aunt's bakeshop. Highland Falls is a town of Scottish descendants, well-kept secrets, and the best shortbread cookies for miles. No one in this town is immune from the secrets of their ancestors or greedy developers.
Excerpt:
“It’s a box of old gadgets that belonged to my mother and my aunt.”
Mr. Paisley cleared a space on a table hidden beneath piles of books.
“Let’s go through it together,” Ian said. “Mr. Paisley can have whatever we can’t use.”
“No rush.” Mr. Paisley placed the old beater back in the box. “The office is yours for long as you need.” He removed his gloves. “Ian told me you might be interested in reviewing society articles from old newspapers around 1870. Why don’t I see what I can find?”
“That would be great.” Sophia smiled. Left alone with Ian in the confined space, she had no choice but to work close. Strangely enough, she didn’t mind. The cluttered tables and dim lighting created a magical aura.
“You made Mr. Paisley very happy.” Ian put an arm around her waist and squeezed gently. “Interesting old object. My mother had one similar to this.” He glanced at the eggbeater.
“Mine, too.” Earlier, she was overwhelmed by the coincidence of the patent date coinciding with the bakery grand opening. In this room, surrounded by an odd mix of old things, a memory surfaced. She was standing on a stool at a tall kitchen counter. Behind her, her mother watched. Soft hands guided the motion of the beater. “She taught me how to beat an egg with one of these.”
“Do you recall what you were going to make?” Ian asked.
“I don’t remember much about that day. I wasn’t more than four or five.” Like most memories about her mother, this one was overshadowed by the years without her. “It’s probably the only thing in the box I’m curious about.”
“Did you check out the rest of the contents?”
“The majority of it looks like useless old junk.” She glanced inside.
“How do you know if you haven’t investigated?” Ian clasped his hands over the box. “Let’s take a look.” He reached in and pulled out a small blue book. “What about this?”
“Lizzy Leslie, A Lady’s Recipe-Book.” She read the title out loud. “I’m not a fan of old cookbooks—too much detail and hard-to-find ingredients.” Something compelled her to open the book to the title page. The copyright was 1847. The date was impressive but not so shattering as the handwritten note under the title.
“Find something?” Ian asked.
“There’s an inscription.” To my sister, Laura. Great find at a yard sale. Happy Birthday. Your loving sister, Mary. She put the book to her face and inhaled. Was she only imagining the sweet yet sensual smell of some ancient recipe?
“An antiquarian bookseller told me he could date a book by its scent.” Ian inhaled. “It’s the lignin, an organic substance that keeps plants rigid and woody. When made into paper and stored for years, the chemical breaks down and smells quite delicious.”
“Vanilla?” She sniffed again. The notes overpowered the scent of the musty book. “It smells almost good enough to eat.”
He placed his hand over hers and brought the book to his face. “A hint of vanilla and grassy roots.” His eyes glimmered with a faraway look.
“Do you miss Scotland?” In spite of the chill from the old, drafty window, his fingers felt warm where he touched her hand. She imagined a wild likeness of him walking in the footsteps of his ancient Highlander ancestors.
“Except for Fiona, my family is still there.” He stepped back. “Ach, lass, but this is home now. Fiona and I have our work and friends.”
Family was a topic Sophia preferred to avoid. “I’ll save this for Alana. She loves cookbooks. She’s thinking of writing one.” She closed the cover and placed the book to the side.”
“Did you notice how some of the pages are dog-eared?” He flipped to a marked page. “Someone must have found an interesting recipe.”
“You read it.” Masking her interest, she crossed her arms over her chest. The truth was, she did wonder who tabbed the page and why.
“Beat with the proper stroke and place wooden rods in a shallow, flat-bottomed earthen pan.” He read each word with emphasis.
Mesmerized by his posh Scottish accent and the eloquent description of a simple task, she listened. “The author’s words create such a vivid picture.” She imagined Marjorie with a wooden stick whipping just-laid eggs in a heavy cast iron Dutch oven.
“People used to speak that way back then. Should I continue?”
She nodded.
“The coldness of a tin pan retards the lightness of the eggs. For the same reason, do not use a metal eggbeater.” He glanced at the old wooden beater. “I suspect that’s not true today?”
“Baking is a science as well as an art,” she said. “Maybe what the author wrote was true with the crude metal tools they used in the 1800s. Today chefs and bakers use top-grade stainless steel. What else does it say?”
“Put the eggbeater to the bottom of the pan. Continue till the surface is mirror-smooth. The beaten egg will be as thick as boiled custard.” He studied the page. “Does it make any sense?”
The words flooded her mind with a memory. “My mother must have marked the page. Until today, I didn’t remember where I learned the technique. Whether she was mixing by hand or using an electric beater, all her eggs were beaten to the same rich, golden texture.”
“That’s a grand recollection from your childhood. Want to tell me about it?”
“That’s all I remember. It’s just a silly thing that came back when you read the recipe.”
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Author Biography:
Zelda Benjamin is the author of the Love by Chocolate series and Highland Falls series. She lives in Florida with her husband and a very active Labrador mix. She worked as a nurse and wrote articles for various nursing journals. She always loved telling stories and expanded her repertoire to include writing romance novels that feature contemporary themes with sweet and sensual undertones, always concluding with a delightful happily ever after. When not writing she loves to travel with family.
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