There’s something delightfully innocent about the name “millionaire’s shortbread”. It smacks of an age when the wealthy – rather than buying up investment property or roaring around in diamond-encrusted supercars – could be identified by their decadent taste in afternoon treats. This is not just shortbread, but caramel shortbread, topped with chocolate. “Fancy” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
The caramel shortbread bar first pops up in the Australian Women’s Weekly at the beginning of the 1970s, though the name seems to have originated in Scotland. Whatever the history, it’s too good to be wasted on the 1%. Robust enough to make perfect picnic fare, ideally after an energetic walk, millionaire’s shortbread should be consumed in moderation – expensive tastes are rarely healthy ones.
The shortbread
Great British Bake Off finalist James Morton is pretty confident in his abilities here; in his book How Baking Works, he says: “It’s not often that I am arrogant enough to believe that my recipe should be the standard on which all others are based. But here I am saying just that.” He reckons perfection lies in “a simple, crumbly shortbread” base, similar to that used by Mary Berry, although she substitutes semolina for a third of the flour, while Annie Bell does the same with ground almonds. The semolina, like the cornmeal used in similar proportions by pastry chef Jennifer Yee in US magazine Food & Wine, gives the biscuit crunch that testers prefer to the soft sweetness of Bell’s almonds.
The classic ratio for shortbread is one part sugar to two parts butter and three parts flour, but Yee uses almost equal amounts of butter and flour, producing a very soft, squidgy dough that, once baked, is crisp rather than crumbly. It makes for a great textural contrast with the caramel, but it’s not what most people would recognise as shortbread; and though delicious on its own, the biscuit is too buttery to play nicely with the caramel and chocolate – something plainer is required.
The squidginess of the caramel seems to cry out for a more robust biscuit – so although I’ll be using a more traditional formula, I’m going to bake it for longer than most recipes recommend, to give a really crunchy result. Replacing some of the flour with cornmeal will give it a more interesting sandy texture, though chilling the dough before baking, as Bell suggests, doesn’t seem to make much difference when the biscuit is baked in a tin, and so doesn’t need to hold its shape.
I also try Alessandra Peter’s gluten- and dairy-free version, from her book The Foodie Teen, which replaces traditional shortbread with a mixture of ground almonds, coconut flour and arrowroot, sweetened with maple syrup. Delicious, if assertively coconutty, again I’d suggest baking the base for slightly longer than she recommends, because though the corners are wonderfully crunchy, the middle stays a bit soft, which makes it hard to lift out of the pan.
The caramel
Making millionaire’s shortbread on one of the hottest days of the year, it becomes apparent that its success hinges on the caramel layer. Bell’s, made with dulce de leche and lots of butter, tastes great, but is so soft it squidges out sideways when I try to cut out squares. (NB: I got confused and poured this on to Berry’s shortbread base, and vice versa, as you may be able to see in the accompanying pictures.)
Yee is the only one to make this element from scratch, heating sugar and water together to create a caramel, then stirring in butter and double cream to give a full-flavoured, but slightly too rich result. This is more like something you might be served in a tiny square as part of a selection of petit fours, rather than savoured over a cup of tea or packed into a pannier. Morton and Berry’s caramels, which use condensed milk, golden syrup and (again) lots of butter, prove most successful; soft rather than chewy, but with enough structural integrity to keep their shape. I don’t think it needs any vanilla flavouring, but add some if you disagree.
Peters makes a date-based caramel with almond butter, which proves almost as tasty as the real thing. I’m not sure it’s much healthier, but it is pretty good.
The chocolate
Yee tops her caramel with a dark chocolate ganache, made by mixing melted chocolate and double cream together. This requires setting in the fridge, which is annoying at a time of year when just about everything requires refrigeration, and fails to find much favour with testers, who declare it both “sickly” and “too soft” – the snap of plain chocolate is more popular. They do, however, like her suggestion of topping the chocolate with crunchy things such as pretzels, candied ginger and nuts, while Bell’s white chocolate swirls look very pretty indeed. The classic recipe requires no such adornment, but for a special occasion, make like a millionaire and throw on whatever you fancy, from honeycomb to hobnobs. Money might not be able to buy you love, but it can give you some mighty fine food.
The perfect millionaire’s shortbread (makes about 24)
For the shortbread:
200g plain flour
100g medium cornmeal, semolina or rice flour
100g granulated sugar
1/4 tsp fine salt
200g butter, cut into pieces
For the topping:
175g butter
175g sugar
60ml golden syrup
400g condensed milk
1/2 tsp fine salt
200g dark chocolate
Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark four. Grease a tin about 20x20cm. Put the flour and cornmeal into a bowl with the sugar and salt and mix well, then cut in the butter and mix to form a dough. Press into the tin, prick all over with a fork and bake for about 25-30 minutes, until golden and crisp. Allow to cool.
Put the remaining butter and sugar in a wide, heavy-based pan with the syrup, condensed milk and salt, and heat gently, stirring to melt the butter. Bring to a simmer and continue to simmer for about 10-15 minutes, until thick and fudgey. Pour over the shortbread and smooth with a palette knife. Leave to set.
Melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water or in a microwave, and spread evenly over the set caramel. Leave until solid, then turn out and cut into squares.
Millionaire’s shortbread – the connoisseur’s choice, or too rich and thick for your taste? And which other desserts travel well for picnic purposes?
View all comments >
comments
Sign in or create your Guardian account to join the discussion.
This discussion is closed for comments.
We’re doing some maintenance right now. You can still read comments, but please come back later to add your own.
Commenting has been disabled for this account (why?)