It’s that time of year, my friends, the time when I
start thinking about Christmas cookies. When I was little, there were certain
cookies we only had at the holidays. We had pizzelles, cooked over the gas
stove with the pizzelle iron that my great-grandfather had made for my
great-grandmother. We had biscotti, the real biscotti, that is, flavored with
anisette. We had bowties, the thinly rolled, deep-fried dough that was dusted
with confectioner’s sugar. My mother added buttery spritz, my father’s favorite,
and Polish nut rolls, both bite sized and logs. There were plenty of cookies to
eat and to share.
When I got married, I started to expand my
repertoire of cookies for Christmas. Every year, I would scan recipe books and
magazines for new ideas so that my cookie trays would wow the crowd. Soon
Christmas baking became an obsession.
For the past five years, however, I have sworn to
myself, to my husband, to my children, to the powers that be that this year I will not go crazy. I will
not try to top my personal best (200 dozen cookies, yes, 2400 individually-made
treats). I will limit myself to baking the number of cookies that my immediate
family, friends, and neighbors can consume. I will only bake the favorite of favorites. I will limit myself to one weekend, one weekend only, of baking
cookies.
Then something happens. There is the casual
comment, “What are you baking this year?” or an invitation to a party, or a
glance at last year’s Christmas list, and I break into a cooking frenzy.
There is no other time of year that justifies this
level of decadence. And decadence it is. I don’t just buy butter; I invest in
Plugra and Kerrygold. I'm not satisfied with Nestlés chocolate chips; it has to
be Merkens or Guittard or Callebaut. Don’t get me started on vanilla. If it
isn't Penzey’s double vanilla, it doesn’t make the grade. I will place an
emergency order by phone (my voice conveys the urgency that the internet lacks) to get it delivered on time. This year, I’ve ordered farm eggs from a couple I know through my son. He chicken sits for them, and he
knows their chickens by name. Those eggs have to be better than the ones I can
buy at Giant, right? The chickens will have to go into hyper drive because I typically use at least ten dozen eggs. Pizzelles alone require two
dozen.
This year, though, I swear I am only going to bake
enough cookies to fill a few cookie trays. I am only going to bake the
necessities, the pizzelles, the biscotti (two, no three kinds), the meringues,
the chocolate chips, a few gingerbread men. And oh, a macaroon or two. Oops, I
almost forgot the chocolate-covered peanut butter Rice Krispy treats. And there
are the absolutely adorable decorated sugar cookies on the Real Simple website. And the spritz. I can't leave out the spritz
because I bought special decorations for the wreaths. And there are the
to-die-for caramels. And the caramel popcorn doesn’t count because it isn't
cookies.
Yes, the insanity is only beginning. Check back for
pictures. In the meantime, here is the recipe for Cherry Almond Biscotti, in
case you aren't around when I'm putting together cookie trays.
Cherry
Almond Biscotti
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup butter (one half stick), cut into small
pieces
1 cup whole almonds, lightly toasted and coarsely
chopped
1 cup whole candied cherries
2 extra-large eggs (or two large eggs plus one egg
yolk), slightly beaten
½ teaspoon vanilla
Preheat oven to 350º. Grease large baking sheet or
line with parchment paper.
Combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in
large bowl and cut in butter with pastry blender until coarse crumbs form.
(Alternately, chop almonds in bowl of food processor. Transfer almonds to large
bowl. Add flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt to food processor. Add butter
and pulse until crumbs form. Transfer to the large bowl with the chopped
almonds.)
Add cherries (and almonds, if you did not use a
food processor), eggs, and vanilla and stir until everything holds together in a
slightly sticky dough. You will have to use your hands, so I recommend taking
off your rings before starting this recipe.
Divide dough in half. On lightly floured surface,
shape each half into a 10-inch log. Transfer to prepared baking sheet. Bake for
30-35 minutes, or until log feels firm to the touch.
Let log cool on the sheet for 20-30 minutes. Move
to a large cutting board (large enough to hold the entire log so it doesn’t
break). With a serrated knife, cut each log diagonally into slices about ¾ inch
thick. Return slices to baking sheet, cut side down. They will not spread, so
you can crowd them rather than dirty a second baking sheet.
Bake for 10 minutes and remove from oven and turn
over. Return to oven for another 5 minutes or until the cookies are crisp and
firm to the touch.
Option: Melt ½
cup white chocolate chips according to package directions. Spoon into a
re-sealable plastic bag or a decorating bag. Clip a tiny corner of the bag, and
drizzle the white chocolate decoratively over cooled cookies. Let chocolate set completely before
storing. It will take about an hour, depending on how warm you keep your house. Cookies keep for at least two weeks at room temperature—if you can
hold onto them that long.
Serve with coffee. Relax and enjoy!
Hi Linda,
ReplyDeleteWhere do you purchase those special chips, vanilla, and butter?