{Foodie Post No.16 part I} Butteries; The Story

There are 3 Stories about Butteries in my knowledge and here I’ll tell you them all. The first is the actual story, their origin.

Story 1). Butteries, informally, their formal name being Aberdeen Rolls. They are basically a lazy version of croissants. These were made in Aberdeen Scotland, way back in old times women would make these to send with their fishermen on long fishing voyages at sea. They have an unbelievably high fat content which apparently gives them the long shelf life they’d have needed for their weeks at sea. Traditionally they’d have crunchy flat bottoms that you would pile with sliced cheese and cured meat to eat while out on your fishing trip, but they’re preferred as a transport for fruit butters or marmalades.

Story 2). I know story 1 because my sister, Avery from Simple Inspirations, read about them in a library book and chose these to make during her last (I think) year in 4-H for her foods project. She did the research, we siblings enjoyed her practice round. They were delicious, flaky, oozing with butter, and I don’t think we ever got to test their life span because we devoured them fresh from the oven. Our spreads of choice being traditional orange marmalade or some pear butter I had canned the year prior. The one and only “old” taste test occurred at the end of fair week, the Putnam County fair was coming to a close, 4-H kids were required to gather their projects and ribbons, and garbage cans were provided for throwing the containers of moldy food in, but there, sitting in its plastic clam shell was Avery’s buttery, looking golden and flaky as ever, no sign of mold, so she took a bite and passed it around to the rest of us who loved reliving history and trusted that if Scottish fisherman could eat them after a month, we could eat them after a week and if my memory serves me, it was only a little stale but totally fine.
Fun fact: while my sister decided on this recipe for her 4-H project my some-day husband was on a trip with his grandma, cousin, and brother to Scotland and although I can’t claim that at that time I *knew* he’d be my husband one day, I did know it was well within the realm of possibilities.

Story 3). This is our story.  My desire to make butteries was sparked because last week I made grilled cheese sandwiches and needed something for the inside; so I opened a jar of Peach Orange Marmalade made and given me by my sister-in-law Katie. It was (is) amazing and made me want some Butteries to have with it. I texted my sister and asked for the recipe, I looked them up on Pinterest and refreshed my memory on the history and technique of making them. I decided I’d make them Saturday morning for brunch because they were going to take 3 hours and I wasn’t getting up before 7. In the end the two year old decided to be up at 6:45 so I got a slightly earlier start than planned but all was good, I was excited to get going and in the end it might’ve been a good thing because at 7PM Saturday evening my “get up and start butteries” alarm went off, so, thanks Emmitt for being a terrible sleeper and getting me up by the time I’d planned. All went well with the dough although it did take an extra cup of flour, the lamination process wasn’t as hard as I thought it might be. I did try two different shaping techniques as I read differing opinions online; some said to tuck the ends under so the butter and lard would leak out and form crispy layers, some said tuck them up to make them pretty. While they baked I talked to my mom on Face-Time and Wesley fried bacon. Oven beeped and it was time. Wesley turned on some Scottish music and I served up breakfast. I set out the Peach Orange Marmalade and dug the very last, sample size, Kerr canning jar of Pear Butter out from the top of my cabinet. I’d canned it back in 2010, as a 15 year old back at “home” from pears given to us by a family friend. It’s to date the best pear butter I’ve made and I don’t open ANY jar of preserved fruits lightly, no, this was a major big deal. This jar had moved from my childhood home to Wesley and my first rental house, then on to the first house we bought, and was packed and moved for the last time to our current place nearly 9 years after it’s canning date. I texted both my mom and sister saying “Dare I open the last jar?” And the general consensus was a resounding ‘yes of course’ because I’m notorious for hoarding canned sweets, which bothers my mom to no end, so anytime I’m willing to open a jar I’m sure they’ll loudly voice their support.
They were just as delicious as I remembered.
And both the Marmalade and Pear Butter were heavenly slathered on the beautifully crisp, flaky bottoms of the butteries.
This is Part 1, the stories, part two will follow with the recipe, because no one should be subject to reading through a book worth of tales before arriving at the recipe after having searched “butteries” on Pinterest and clicked on a link.