When a thirty-something American food writer moves to a Scottish village for one year to fulfill her dream of writing a cookbook she finds more than inspiration–she meets a handsome Scotsman she can’t resist in this charming debut romance.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Rochelle Bilow’s Ruby Spencer’s Whisky Year, which is out February 14th 2023. You can also take a peek at a recipe from the main character’s cookbook, The Cosy Hearth Cookbook.
Ruby Spencer is spending one year living in a small cottage in a tiny town in the Scottish Highlands for three reasons: to write a bestselling cookbook, to drink a barrelful of whisky, and to figure out what comes next. It’s hard to know what to expect after an impulse decision based on a map of Scotland in her Manhattan apartment–but she knows it’s high time she had an adventure.
The moment she sets foot in Thistlecross, the verdant scenery, cozy cottages, and struggling local pub steal her heart. Between designing pop-up suppers and conversing with the colorful locals, Ruby starts to see a future that stretches beyond her year of adventure. It doesn’t hurt that Brochan, the ruggedly handsome local handyman, keeps coming around to repair things at her cottage. Though Ruby swore off men, she can’t help fantasizing what a roll in the barley might be like with the bearded Scot.
As Ruby grows closer to Brochan and the tightly held traditions of the charming village, she discovers secret plans to turn her beloved pub into an American chain restaurant. Faced with an impossible choice, Ruby must decide between love, loyalty, and the Highlands way of life.
The Cosy Hearth’s kitchen was as charming and quirky as its bar. A very old cast-iron oven with a gas-powered stove stood against one of the stone walls, which were lined with a few sporadic rough wooden beams for shelving. There was an old but sturdy refrigerator and a small walk-in pantry. The sink must have been a new addition. It was a deep, wide, farmhouse-style behemoth in which a few mixing bowls were already stacked. There was little in the way of countertops, but a large butcher block table with stools on two sides sat in the middle. Grace was standing at the table’s head, using a pastry cutter to mix butter into flour. Just a linen curtain separated the kitchen from the bar, which Ruby realized was a genius stroke of advertising: All the intoxicating smells from the kitchen would quickly reach the patrons. Well, if there were any patrons. Ruby had yet to see another soul at the Cosy Hearth, beyond herself, Grace, and Neil. Grace wiped her hands on her apron and pulled a tray of scones from the oven. They were just lightly golden at the edges and dotted with currants. Ruby eyed the pastries as she reached for a tin can of coffee on one of the shelves and filled the kettle on the stove with water.
“What time does the Cosy Hearth open for customers?” Ruby measured out coffee into the French press. “Surely these scones aren’t all for us?”
Grace chuckled. “No, you’re right about that. The Cosy Hearth opens—well, as soon as I wake up, though it doesn’t much matter because aside from a few loyal friends like Neil, we don’t have much in the way of customers.”
The kettle made its presence known and Ruby poured water over the grounds.
“Speaking freely, if I may,” Grace said, and Ruby nodded in encouragement, “the town owns this building, and I’m lucky that they recently reduced my rent payments. The Traveler Hotel has gobbled my business whole.”
Ruby was aware of the Traveler Hotel from her internetting. It had been constructed a few years ago, in 2016. And it sat just a couple of streets away from the Cosy Hearth. Although it catered to out-of-towners who dared venture away from the tourist centers of Inverness and Loch Ness, Ruby wondered if the glossy espresso bar and bistro on the ground floor were attracting locals who had previously been Grace’s patrons. Ruby stirred the coffee with a butter knife and plunged the French press.
“I’m lucky also,” Grace said, “that they order scones from me three days a week. The payment isn’t much, but it’s something.”
Ruby smiled sympathetically and handed a mug of steaming coffee across the table. “If the scones are a fraction as good as last night’s dinner, the hotel is the lucky one. May I?” Grace nodded and Ruby reached for a pastry. She wiped the coffee grounds from the knife and split open the scone. Steam escaped to reveal a dense crumb. Ruby dipped her knife into the crock of butter and slathered some onto half. She took a bite and started laughing. “Oh, wow. Grace. You are a gift.”
Grace beamed and turned the contents of the mixing bowl onto the counter as she set about shaping another batch of scones.
Ruby chewed thoughtfully. “I’m sorry about the great migration to the hotel. Honestly, anyone who gives up on a real-deal place like this is a fool.”
The same rain cloud that had crossed Neil’s face the night before appeared over Grace’s now. With a cluck of her tongue, Grace shifted the conversation. “Well, it’ll free up the space for you and your cookbook research,” she said. “Don’t be shy; we can always work around each other if we need it at the same time.”
“Or with each other,” Ruby said, licking her thumb and picking up a few crumbs from the plate.
“Or with each other,” Grace agreed.
The two women were quiet for a few minutes. Ruby sat on a stool. She let the mug of coffee warm her hands and she watched Grace work. After swiftly portioning the dough into eight pieces, she brushed each one with cream and added a sprinkle of sugar on top. Once she’d put them in the oven, she turned around and placed her hands on the table. “So. I’ve shared my heart’s sorrow with you. I’ll be needing you to tell me yours.”
