I know, I know… one single blog post for all of 2025. Not exactly the consistency I aspire to. But here we are — and since this is my lone entry for the year, you might want to settle in with a cup of tea. This is going to be a long one, packed with stories, memories, and an absolutely ridiculous number of photos.

Now that I’m retired, I’m hoping to do better and carve out more time for writing — both the travel tales and the recipes that always anchor each post. And speaking of recipes, today’s comes straight from New Zealand: a beautifully simple Scottish Shortbread I learned from our friend there. It became one of those small, sweet rituals during my trip, and I can’t wait to share it with you at the end.

But first, let’s rewind and take a look at everything that happened in 2025.

January 2025

The year began the way all good years should — with friendship and adventure. My friend Sam flew in to celebrate my birthday, and we crossed the border into British Columbia to explore Nelson and Kaslo. These quirky mountain towns, once bustling hubs of mining and sternwheelers, now draw artists, hikers, and people like us who go hunting for “Koots” — whimsical stone figures carved into the landscape. It was the perfect start to a year that would turn out to be anything but ordinary.

February & March — Work, Friends, and a Hint of Spring

February took me to Austin for a team meeting, where I squeezed in time with my friend Meghan and bought a real Stetson — a rite of passage in Texas, where cowboy hat craftsmanship is practically a cultural institution.

March brought more travel, this time to Seattle. We had a team outing on Lake Union, drifting past the iconic houseboats that have shaped the city’s maritime identity for over a century. I stayed on for my friend Allison’s birthday, soaking in the early hints of spring that Seattle does so well — cherry blossoms, rain showers, and the smell of coffee everywhere.

April & May — Bringing Mum to America

Spring was a whirlwind. We enjoyed some early sun filled days, which the entire furry family enjoyed, celebrated our friend Terry’s birthday, prepped the cabin for my mum, and then I flew to Germany to bring my mum back with me. She had never flown alone, especially not across the world, and after losing my dad, the idea of her navigating that journey solo felt impossible.

We unexpectedly got upgraded to Business Class, which delighted my mum to no end. The endless mimosas, “fine dining”, movie snacks, the little gadgets, the tiny salt shakers in form of an airplane — and the lay flat bed, made this long grueling trip so much easier on her, which made me very happy.

We arrived almost refreshed in Seattle and spent a night in Seattle before heading home on a 6 hour drive, and naturally we visited her favorite landmark: the Space Needle. Built for the 1962 World’s Fair, it still has that retro-futuristic charm that makes you feel like you’re stepping into a postcard.

June — Mum’s Northport Summer

Back in Northport, we put Mum straight to work — ranch chores, feeding horses, weeding,helping with the dogs and driving the side by side. She loved every minute of it. She toured our neighbor Em’s dairy operation, sunbathed, swam in the icy waters of Lake Roosevelt, and even took a painting class with me.

We also had a lovely spontaneous visit from Parmely and Harry. My mum had met them years ago, when we celebrated the 4th of July at their home in Long Beach, so seeing them again felt like reconnecting with old friends. They even gave her a full “tour” of their car‑mounted camper — which she absolutely adored. I could practically see her imagining herself cruising around Germany in one… if only she could find the right man to join her on the adventure.

We showed her small-town life during Town & Country Days in Kettle Falls, a tradition dating back to the 1930s when the region was still shaped by logging and farming. Mike caught Walleye — her favorite — and we grilled it for her on the BBQ.

One of my mum’s long‑held wishes was to see Las Vegas. In Germany, it’s constantly on TV — the glittering hotels, the casinos, the shows, the celebrities — and she heard me talk about my own visits some 30 years ago, when I saw Siegfried & Roy and all my business trips in the last 10 years to Vegas and ever since then she had the desire of experiencing it for herself.
Before we even made it to Vegas, though, our trip took a small detour. After a delayed flight out of Spokane, Mum and I suddenly had a couple of unexpected hours to fill. We wandered through the city, and to my surprise she absolutely loved it.

And then, finally, it was time for Las Vegas

Our first night kicked off with tickets to O by Cirque du Soleil, which we both thoroughly enjoyed.

The next morning was all about the casinos. I gave Mum a little tour of the wonderfully over‑the‑top styles — from the canals of the Venetian to the Roman drama of Caesar’s Palace, the retro charm of the Flamingo, and the old‑school glow of the Golden Nugget. I even tried to explain the game of craps, and of course she picked it up quickly. We tested our luck on one of the automated craps machines — no intimidating table, no audience — and Mum absolutely loved it. We wandered, people‑watched, soaked in the spectacle, drunk some cocktails and ended the evening under the dazzling lights of Fremont Street before celebrating her belated birthday with dinner at Wolfgang Puck.

The following day was a full adventure—Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon. We toured Hoover Dam — a Depression-era engineering marvel that still inspires awe — Visiting Hoover Dam was a powerful reminder of American engineering and ambition.

Built during the Great Depression between 1931 and 1936, this massive concrete arch-gravity dam spans the Colorado River and forms Lake Mead, one of the largest man-made reservoirs in the U.S. Standing at 726 feet tall, it supplies hydroelectric power and water to much of the Southwest. One fun detail: when you walk across the bypass bridge just downstream, you actually cross state lines—from Nevada into Arizona—which made for a quirky photo op and a great geography lesson rolled into one.

The Grand Canyon was absolutely breathtaking—and absolutely scorching. Despite the heat, Mum was such a trooper, never complaining once as we explored the viewpoints and soaked in those unbelievable layers of color and depth. We also walked the Skywalk, that glass bridge that juts out over the canyon. It was super cool to look straight down through the glass, and I secretly wished it stretched all the way across. Even in the heat, it was one of those experiences that stays with you long after you’ve left.

But the moment that had us laughing the hardest was at the iconic Las Vegas sign, where we spotted a reluctant Elvis impersonator trying to hide behind his car. Mum was determined to get a photo, and although he didn’t say a word and looked thoroughly unimpressed, we couldn’t stop cracking up. It was the perfect cliché—running into a grumpy Elvis in Vegas—and we giggled about it the entire day.

But even the best Vegas trip eventually comes to an end, and when we returned home, our days took on a different rhythm — quieter, sweeter, and full of the simple moments we treasured most.

We cooked German comfort food for friends, picked cherries until our fingers were stained red, and spent one last day in Seattle visiting the sculpture park and Bellevue Botanical Garden. Saying goodbye at the airport was heartbreaking. You never know if it’s the last time. But I was grateful she finally saw where I live — something my dad never got to do.

July — Fire, Freedom, and a New Chapter

July started with fireworks and ended with fire when lighting hit a tree and set it on fire. First came the Hope Fire across the river, then the Crown Creek Fire — far too close for comfort. We packed bags, boarded the horses, and waited. Thankfully, evacuation never came, but others in Northport weren’t as lucky. Homes were lost, though lives were spared. What stood out most during those tense days was the way the community rallied. People opened their homes without hesitation — some took in families, others took in animals and livestock. Neighbors showed up with trailers, blankets, clothes, food, anything they thought might help. It didn’t matter if you knew someone well or only by name; everyone was looking out for everyone else. We received lots of phone calls of neighbors and friends checking in on us, offering their help. In the middle of all that smoke and uncertainty, the kindness was overwhelming. It reminded me that even in the worst moments, this little corner of the world has a way of showing its best.

On July 11th, I resigned from AWS and officially retired at 57. After years in corporate America — Microsoft, AWS, the whole machine — I was done. I wanted my life back. To celebrate, I spent a day with my friend Linda in Nelson for spa time and great food. Retirement, it turns out, tastes pretty sweet.

Then came the most expensive key replacement in history. Mike lost his truck key, and while waiting at the dealership for a new one, we wandered the showroom… and bought a new car. Goodbye RAMbo, hello Silvy. BTW, we just found the key in the garage, hanging at some random nail…

I was also inducted into the Huckleberry Hall of Fame — my own personal milestone. Huckleberries are practically sacred in the Pacific Northwest, and no one ever reveals their picking spots. But Linda and Jeff shared theirs with me, which is basically the local equivalent of being knighted (and yes that’s a gun on my hip, there are bears in the forest in high altitude).

August — Harvest and Escape

By August, summer settles into that golden stretch where all the hard work finally shows. Months of weeding, watering, and stringing tomatoes up the vine, is starting to pay off, and the Bounds Ranch turns into a little celebration of abundance. Tomatoes, peppers, onions, ground cherries, cantaloupe — everything seems to ripen at once. The kitchen becomes a full‑blown canning factory, jars lining every surface, pots bubbling on the stove, and the whole house smelling like simmering sauce and sun‑warmed produce. It’s messy, busy, and a little chaotic, but it’s the kind of chaos that feels deeply satisfying. This is the moment when you can literally taste the fruits of your labor.

August also happens to be prime river season, so when a meteor shower was predicted, we decided it was the perfect moment to try boat‑camping. No meteors, but plenty of fun — and waking up on the water was worth it, the night was still perfect — BBQ on the water, dogs curled up beside us, Mike fishing at dusk and dawn.

Our visit to Whidbey Island was a sweet pause in the middle of August — catching up with Allison and Bobby, admiring their new home, and slipping into the casino. But the calm didn’t last. Back home, the Crown Creek smoke settled in again, heavy and choking, and we found ourselves evacuating the horses and taking off on a spontaneous trip to Wallace, Idaho.

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September — Visitors, Friendship, and the Start of a Dream Trip

September began with a full house. Vanessa (Mike’s daughter) and her boyfriend Joey came to visit, and we spent time on the river and even popped up into Canada for a bit. After they left, Mike’s friend Berry arrived, and Harry stopped by too. For living so far from “civilization,” we somehow never feel isolated — people always find their way to us, and the house fills with laughter and stories. It’s one of the things I love most about where we live.

We met Toni last year on our Fiji/Tonga trip, and we instantly hit it off. In true New Zealand fashion — warm, generous, and wonderfully down‑to‑earth — Toni invited us to come spend time with her in her home country. You don’t have to tell me twice. The moment we got home, we started planning. Toni sent us a full three‑week agenda: ten days with her, ten days on our own. She even introduced us to her friends Neale and Ruth, who live an hour north of Auckland in Snells Beach. They opened their home to us like we were old friends. That’s the thing about Kiwis — they are some of the most welcoming people we’ve ever met.

And the country… breathtaking. No matter where you are, every corner reveals another “wow” moment.

Auckland → Snells Beach — The Kiwi Welcome

We landed in Auckland, where Toni picked us up and took us to breakfast at the harbor. Auckland is known as the “City of Sails,” and it’s easy to see why — the marina is packed with boats, and the whole city feels connected to the water.

From there, we drove to Snells Beach, where Neale and Ruth were waiting for us. After coffee, they took us to the local brewhouse — Sawmill — which, to my delight, had German food and beer on the menu. Neale also drove with my favorite German car to the brewery – a very good omen for the start of our vacation 🙂 .

We walked Omaha Beach, a stunning stretch of sand where many of New Zealand’s rich and famous have holiday homes. I had my first New Zealand Pinot Noir in New Zealand, tasted homemade yogurt, and went wine tasting at Brick Bay. At Brick Bay, one of my favorite pieces was by artist Gregor Kregar — a flock of porcelain sheep dressed in national rugby jerseys. Originally created for the 2011 Rugby World Cup, the work playfully mixes two Kiwi icons, sheep and rugby, while poking at ideas of national identity and how New Zealanders celebrate (and gently mock) themselves. We also spotted a shiny chrome dwarf sculpture by Gregor Kregar — playful, reflective, and unmistakably cheeky. Brick Bay is one of those places that gets everything right — a modern winery set around a small lake, surrounded by native bush and beautifully designed landscapes. Alongside the tasting room and the exhibition of the rugby‑jersey sheep, the property also features a sculpture trail showcasing work by contemporary New Zealand artists. The pieces change regularly, but the idea stays the same: giving artists space to create large‑scale installations that respond to the land, celebrate local stories, and highlight the creativity that runs through Aotearoa’s art scene. One of the standouts during our visit was Yellow Post, the 2025 Brick Bay Folly — a bright, 11‑metre tower inspired by traditional Māori hākari structures, built as a symbol of gathering and connection.

Meanwhile, Mike got to go fishing with Toni and Neale on Toni’s boat, No Excuse. (She owns Surtees Boats — how cool is that?) They caught snapper, and we made snapper tacos for dinner. Fresh, simple, perfect.

Coromandel — Fishing, Railways, and Pineapple Lumps

The next morning, Neale gave us a quick tour of Snells Beach so we could see a bit more of his world — the little marina, one of the original homesteads, and the quiet shoreline where tūī birds flit between the trees, making that unmistakable metallic call they’re known for. After that, we took off for the Coromandel, with Toni bravely taking the wheel. Driving in New Zealand takes a minute to adjust to — steering wheel on the right, driving on the left — so we were more than happy to let her handle the first ten days while we got our bearings

Our first stop was Coromandel on the Coromandel Peninsula. I got introduced to New Zealand candy — especially Pineapple Lumps, which instantly became my favorite.

Coromandel is a beautiful little fishing town, and Mike got lucky with a bespoke fishing trip: just him and three crew members fishing for snapper along old mussel barges. Fishing was “lights out,” as they say, with the Coho Cowboys.

Toni and I visited the Driving Creek Railway, a narrow‑gauge bush and mountain railway built almost entirely by one man, potter Barry Brickell. It took him 40 years to complete the tracks. The railway climbs to a viewing platform 165 meters above the surrounding coast — a testament to Kiwi creativity and stubborn determination.

Whitianga — Wine, Slang, and the World’s Best “Donut”

The next day, we did more wine tasting at Mercury Bay and started learning New Zealand‑specific terms. A butty is a sandwich. A wobbly is a tantrum. And sweet as means “great,” not “sweet.” We were becoming honorary Kiwis.

We paused at the Coroglen Tavern — a legendary Kiwi pub that once served the bustling gum‑digging settlement of Gumtown. The first hotel here opened in 1879, and although the town has faded, the tavern remains a lively outpost of rural Coromandel life. These days it’s known for its spring and summer concerts, when local bands roll in and the whole place turns into a classic Kiwi gathering spot.

From there we continued to Whitianga, where a boat tour brought the region’s history to life.

We learned that Captain Cook anchored in Mercury Bay in 1769 for a very specific reason: it was one of the few places in the world where he and his astronomer, Charles Green, could accurately observe the transit of Mercury — a rare moment when the planet crosses the face of the sun. Timing this event was crucial for calculating the distance between the Earth and the sun, one of the great scientific questions of the era. That celestial alignment is what brought Cook to Whitianga, long before it became the relaxed beach town it is today.
We also learned how Buffalo Beach later took its name from HMS Buffalo, wrecked offshore in 1840. The coastline grew more dramatic as we approached Cathedral Cove, its soaring archway carved by centuries of Pacific surf — one of the most photographed and iconic landscapes in all of New Zealand.

Dinner was at Smitty’s Sports Bar, where they happened to be doing a prize drawing — and I won a couple of drinks for us. A lucky night.

Toni and I spent the next afternoon at The Lost Spring Spa, the pools are fed by 16,000‑year‑old geothermal water that rises from deep underground, but in the moment all we noticed was how good it felt to sink into those warm, mineral‑rich lagoons surrounded by tropical gardens and waterfalls. Steam drifted through the palms, birds chattered somewhere above us, and the whole place had this dreamy, tucked‑away atmosphere.
We floated from pool to pool, ordered cocktails without ever leaving the water, and eventually wandered up to the Treetop Day Spa for massages. It’s hard to believe this oasis sits just minutes from central Whitianga — a beautifully restored old schoolhouse on one side, lush greenery on the other, and not a hint of the outside world once you’re inside. After a day of exploring the Coromandel coast, it was the perfect place to unwind and just breathe.

Whitianga is also home to the Bay Bakery, famous for what locals swear are the best cream donuts in New Zealand — and honestly, I believe them. They’re not really donuts in the American sense; they’re this perfect cross between an éclair and a donut, filled with fresh cream and dusted with sugar. Reviewers rave about them, calling them “the best donuts ever” and “out of this world,” and I’m still dreaming about mine.

Mount Maunganui — Life at “The Mount”

We left Whitianga and made our way to Tairua and Whangamatā, then back to Toni’s home: Mount Maunganui.

Mount Maunganui — “The Mount” — is a 232‑meter volcanic dome at the end of a peninsula. The inner harbor side is calm and sheltered; the ocean side is a massive surf beach. Once a small town, it’s now a bustling beach city with cafés, food trucks, and a lively promenade.

We spent a couple of days at The Mount, playing Five Crowns, eating homemade biscuits, drinking tea — very New Zealandish — and then headed to Rotorua to immerse ourselves in Māori culture.

Before Rotorua, we stopped at Surtees and got our own private tour of how the boats are manufactured. In Whakatāne, we visited a fishing club where Mike became a short‑term member so we could have drinks there. Priorities :-). Oh yeah, I did not try the Herbed Rubbed Kangaroo Rump…completely missed out on that.

The next morning, we drove to Rotorua and visited Te Puia, a geothermal valley — New Zealand’s Yellowstone. Except it’s right in the middle of a city. For decades, households used the geothermal steam to heat their homes, but this was restricted to protect the geothermal field.

Te Puia also has a tiny kiwi sanctuary, and I got to see my first real live kiwi. I was thrilled — they’re shy, nocturnal, and incredibly hard to spot in the wild.

On our way through the region, we paused to photograph White Island (Whakaari) — that stark, otherworldly volcanic cone rising straight out of the sea. Even from a distance, it looked alive, with wisps of steam drifting from its crater. It’s one of New Zealand’s most active volcanoes, constantly reshaping itself with small eruptions and Sulphur vents. We had no idea how close we were to history: just a week after we stood there taking photos, the volcano erupted. One of the reasons why you can visit the island anymore. As you can see below, we also had a little bit fun editing the photos with AI ;-).

Goodbye to Toni — and Hello to the South Island

Eventually, the day came when we had to say goodbye to Toni and continue our adventure alone. She dropped us at the tiny Mount Maunganui airport, and we flew to Wellington to catch the ferry to Picton. We spent one night in Wellington and used the time for a little pub crawl in “Welli.”

The next morning, we boarded the ferry across the Cook Strait and into the Marlborough Sounds — a stunning maze of emerald hills and deep blue water.

Kaikōura — Crayfish, Dolphins, and Cold Feet

Once we arrived in Picton, we faced our first solo challenge: Mike driving on the left side of the road. First stop: the little fishing town of Kaikōura. It was nerve‑wracking, but we made it.

The drive was beautiful — rolling hills, vineyards, and the Marlborough wine country. Kaikōura is famous for its crayfish, the local delicacy, so I had to try it. It’s their version of lobster, but I’ll be honest: I prefer Pacific Northwest Dungeness crab. Kiwis serve their crayfish warm and mushy… and that’s all I’ll say.

Kaikōura is also the marine capital of the South Island, so we opted for a dolphin tour. Some brave souls jumped into the freezing water to swim with them. I kind of wanted to, but I was too chicken to brave the cold. At first I was sad I missed out, but once I saw how cold those people were, I was relieved. Thankfully, the dolphins put on a show for me — leaping, spinning, and racing alongside the boat. We also saw a sea lion colony and plenty of seagulls trying to steal people’s crayfish dinners.

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South Island Adventures — Earthquakes, Penguins, Turquoise Lakes, and a Magical Forest Dinner

From Kaikōura, we continued further south to Christchurch — the city most deeply marked by the devastating 2011 earthquake. More than 10,000 buildings were damaged, and even today you can still see empty lots where structures once stood. Christchurch is a city rebuilding itself piece by piece, and that contrast between old and new is visible everywhere.

We had booked two nights, but it was “too much city” for Mike, so we made the most of our time by taking the hop‑on hop‑off tram and renting scooters to explore. Christchurch has a beautiful botanical garden, a prestigious college, and incredible architecture — including our hotel, The Observatory, a boutique gem that was once a real observatory in the early 1900s. You can still feel the history in its walls.

Even with all the restoration, the earthquake’s impact is still visible. Some buildings have been beautifully rebuilt; others remain empty shells waiting for their turn. It gives Christchurch a unique, bittersweet character — resilience mixed with remembrance.

That evening we had a fantastic Asian dinner, and on a spontaneous whim decided to spend the next night in Akaroa, a charming French‑influenced village on the Banks Peninsula.

Akaroa is home to a small penguin colony, and I finally got to scratch a bucket‑list item off: seeing penguins in their native habitat. We watched them in their nesting boxes and saw them swim ashore at sunset — a magical moment, even if it left me wanting more. Antarctica and the “emperor penguins” are still on the list.

The landscape around Akaroa was stunning, with rare native New Zealand trees — including kauri trees, of which only about 5% remain. These ancient giants once dominated the North Island forests, and today major conservation efforts are underway to restore them.

Alpacas, Lake Tekapo, and the Road to Wanaka

Another highlight in Akaroa was visiting an alpaca farm. We learned that the boys and girls are usually kept separately — and that the boys are far friendlier. We got to pet the boys, who were cuddly and curious, while the girls only approached when food was involved. Classic.

After Akaroa, we continued south toward Lake Wanaka, stopping at the famous Church of the Good Shepherd at Lake Tekapo. Driving in New Zealand is incredible — every turn reveals another jaw‑dropping view. Lake Tekapo’s turquoise color is unforgettable.

That color comes from glacial flour — fine particles of rock ground down by glaciers and carried into the lake by meltwater. When sunlight hits the water, the glacial flour absorbs the shortest wavelengths and scatters blues and greens back to our eyes, creating that surreal turquoise glow.

Wanaka — The Famous Tree and Mountain Adventures

Once in Wanaka, I of course had to visit the Lake Wanaka Tree — the lone willow growing out of the lake that has become a global icon. Its story is one of resilience: originally just a fence post, it took root and grew into a symbol of New Zealand’s natural beauty. A 2014 photograph by Dennis Radermacher catapulted it to fame, and despite vandalism and climbers damaging its branches, the tree still stands strong.

We explored the area — Mike by ATV, me by horseback — each of us taking in the landscape in our own way.

Queenstown — Mountains, Movies, and Missed Flights

From Wanaka, we continued to Queenstown, the adrenaline capital of New Zealand. Another beautiful town on another beautiful lake — Lake Wakatipu — surrounded by the dramatic mountain range known as The Remarkables, which also hosts a ski resort.

The weather wasn’t on our side when we arrived, so we took a Lord of the Rings tour and visited filming locations from the trilogy. Even in the rain, the landscapes were stunning.

I had booked a scenic flight and cruise for Mike’s birthday on October 24th — a full Milford Sound experience — but the weather was so bad the flight was canceled. Milford Sound is one of the wettest places on Earth, so cancellations are common. Thankfully, we had already seen the Marlborough Sounds earlier in the trip, so we at least had a taste of New Zealand’s fjord landscapes. And honestly, this won’t be our last trip to NZ — Milford Sound will happen next time.

Instead, I treated Mike to a beautiful hotel stay with a hot tub and a view over Lake Wakatipu. Not a bad Plan B.

Auckland Finale — A Magical Forest Dinner

Our trip eventually came to an end. We flew from Queenstown back to Auckland and spent a couple more days there before heading home. This trip also happened to be our 19th wedding anniversary, and I wanted to surprise Mike with a special dinner — something as memorable as the one we had in Vietnam ten years ago.

I asked the hotel concierge for ideas, and he connected me with a woman who creates bespoke forest dinners outside Auckland, where guests forage ingredients and Māori chefs prepare a fine‑dining meal. I spoke with the owner, Mamakan, of Velskov, and explained that this might not be the right fit for us.

Instead of sending us elsewhere, she surprised me completely:
“I’ll pick you up, we’ll go shopping together, and we’ll have an outdoor BBQ at my place in the woods.”

It was a bit of a leap of faith — going into the forest with a stranger — but it turned into one of the most magical nights of the entire trip (Take a look at the picture to the left, there is a house up on the mountain ridge to the left, that’s Mamakan’s place where we had dinner).

We learned about her reforestation project, walked through her land, and she even let us plant our own tree: a New Zealand kawakawa, which we named Manu Love (“love for animals”). It even made it into a nature blog.

We learned about mānuka trees (where the famous honey is made from), made a steak sauce from foraged spicy leaves, enjoyed an incredible cheese fondue and BBQ, and drank schnapps Mamakan had made from herbs in her forest. It was intimate, unexpected, and unforgettable — the kind of experience you can’t plan, only stumble into with good karma in action.

One Last Kiwi

On our final day, we visited the Auckland Zoo — mostly because I wanted to see one more kiwi before leaving. There’s something about that shy, round little bird that captures your heart.

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Now on to the recipe:

I realized I had a lot to catch up on — clearly posting once a year isn’t cutting it. Now that I’m retired, I’m hoping to carve out more time for writing and sharing the little stories that make these travels so special.
Today’s recipe isn’t traditionally New Zealand, but it’s deeply woven into my time there: Scottish shortbread. Kiwis, much like Germans, love their afternoon tea or coffee with a little something sweet. In Germany it’s usually cake; in New Zealand, it’s more often a biscuit — and shortbread seems to be everyone’s quiet favorite.

From the moment we arrived, shortbread kept popping up like a delicious theme. Toni had brought a tin to Ruth and Neale, so we nibbled on it there. Then I watched her pack some for Koos (her “manfriend”), and later we tucked a stash into our bags for the Coromandel trip, enjoying a piece or two with tea in the afternoons. By the time we returned to Toni’s home at the Mount, I finally said, “Alright, I need to learn how to make this myself.”

It’s almost laughably simple — just 4 ingredients — and yet I’ve become a complete convert. It’s the perfect companion to a cup of tea, and you only need a couple of biscuits to tide you over until dinner.
And of course, you can make the recipe your own: add an orange, lemon, or chocolate glaze; roll the dough thinner and sandwich it with jam; or keep it classic and let the buttery simplicity shine. OR you can just turn them into little Kiwis :-), get a Kiwi cookie cutter, put a light glaze on them, dip them in raw sugar (bigger crystals) for feathers, a black dot for eyes and brown food coloring for the beak and ready are cookies you can even gift!

The MOST important part of this recipe is that you have the best butter you can find, and it HAS to be room temperature!!

Scottish Shortbread

Ingredients

• 1 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2.5 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven (270 degrees) and line baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter for 3-5 minutes just but itself, the color of the butter should now be very pale yellow. Then add the sugar and beat for 2-3 more minutes.
3. Stir in the vanilla extract until fully combined.
4. Gradually fold in 2.5 cups of flour until the mixture forms a cohesive dough. Avoid overmixing to keep the cookies tender.  
5. Roll dough on a lightly floured surface to ¼ inch thickness and cut with cookie cutters.
6. Place the cookies on the baking sheet. Bake at 270°F for 45 minutes. Check at 40 minutes, edges should be lightly golden but the center should still be pale.
7. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5-10 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. The cookies will firm up as they cool.
8. Once cool, glaze the cookies with a mix of water and powdered sugar (or lemon juice and powdered sugar).  

Tips for Success

• Low and slow baking ensures a tender texture and prevents browning too quickly.
• Chill the dough to help cookies keep their shape during long baking times.
• Butter quality matters: Using unsalted butter gives better control over sweetness.
• Storage: Keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to a week or freeze for longer shelf life.

Guten Appetit!