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FoodBuzz 24, 24, 24...24, 24...Have a Cookie!

Relatively new to the world of blogging, I thought participating in the FoodBuzz 24, 24, 24 would serve all kinds of purposes.  It would be an opportunity to do something fun while gathering fodder for a story, which would force me to write.  How could it be anything but good?

My first thought was to make fun and interesting dishes, maybe inviting some friends over for a dinner to share in the event.  Evan, clearly thinking about our current reserve of readily available friends, responded with, “Well, if we invite all of my friends, then they can each drink 24 beers and eat 24 hot dogs in 24 minutes, all with just 24 teeth.”  Okay, not a great idea. 

My next thought was a theme party, the theme, of course, being the type of food served.  We could be exotic and innovative, serving food that none of us had ever before encountered.  Evan’s response, obviously envisioning that same reserve of friends, was simply, “Yeah.” 

And so it went for days, ideas flying in and out of my head until I had a jumble of mediocre to crappy possibilities on my ever-growing, though relatively useless, list.  Finally cornering Evan, I whined until he admitted that he hadn’t actually considered how to approach the thing.  With this, I knew all would be fine because once Evan decides that he is absolved from participation, his ideas begin to flow in a way possible only to one who feels truly and wholly free of investment. 

He sat for a moment, his soulful blue eyes peering vacantly out the window, seemingly oblivious the twitching mass of anxiety sitting next to him (yes, that would be me), when, suddenly, out of the mist, it happened.  Bells gently chimed and lights softly flashed, and I’m certain I heard the soothing chorus of angels singing in the distance, as Evan said, very quietly and with characteristic calm, The Plan:  Bake 24 cookie recipes, with 24 cookies from each recipe, and donate the fruits of the fiasco to charity.  (And I think he actually called it “the fiasco.”)

So that’s exactly what we did.

Interestingly, finding a home for the cookies wasn’t easy.  I called soup kitchens and shelters, oddly scarce in our low income county, only to hear from each that no one would be available on a Saturday to accept the donation.  Heeding Evan’s now much valued advice, I called Family of Ellenville in Ulster County, New York, the next county over.  The director immediately jumped on my offer and agreed to meet us on Saturday night to accept the cookies, and she even sounded thrilled to do it.  She laughingly agreed with my philosophy that there’s something happy about a cookie, and unwittingly offered a bit of motivation by telling me that the cookies were coming at the perfect time, and that they would go to people who needed something nice in their lives.

Without a doubt, there is something about a cookie that makes everything feel better.   It’s whimsical, as foods go, and yet somehow anchoring.  A cookie doesn’t offer enough nourishment to live off of.  Even a good sized pile of cookies, on its own, won’t help us sustain life, but the cookie somehow helps us maintain a happier, emotionally lighter life. 

Silliness and frivolity surrounds the eating of a cookie, mostly, perhaps, because it’s impossible to be serious or heavy with a piece of a snickerdoodle dandling out of your mouth.  A woman can’t stand in front of her husband, demanding, with any authority at all, that he end his affair with the neighbor and his wife while brushing peanut butter cookie crumbs from her lower lip and chin.  (Of course, in addition standing there as the very embodiment of her own self-invalidation, she’ll only be reminding him of one of the reasons he strayed to begin with.)  Similarly, a man yelling at the paperboy for throwing the newspaper into the water sprinkler every single day while he scraping the creamy filling off of a dissected Oreo with his front teeth is, oh, I don’t know, somehow less than effective.  He can’t possibly be pissed that the paperboy is chuckling out loud, not even trying to hide his disgust for the ranting, Oreo-toothed cookie-eater standing before him.

No.  A cookie is for making skinned-knee-tears go away, soothing a mildly fractured ego or helping a bad haircut start to grow out.  It’s for all kinds of good, warm, loving moments, and as a surrogate, when good, warm, loving moments are in short supply.  A good cookie fixes things.  I don’t know how or why, but I know it does.  Maybe it’s because we’re able to keep the memories of times we were given a cookie, and because those were good, warm, loving times.  I can still see my mother, in my mind’s eye, giving a cookie to my crying baby brother as he sat in his highchair, doing his best to be all things annoying and loud.  I watched his hot, red, snot-streaked and tear-stained face, turn back into the cool, pink, completely kissable thing I had known and loved as he nibbled on the cookie, cooing and giggling all the while.  And I can see her turning and giving me a cookie, too, as she flashed her beautiful You’reMommy’sBigGirlAren’tYou smile at me. 

Because of these things, we had little doubt that The Cookie Fiasco would be a success.  First, though, I needed a strategy—hey, stop laughing, we’re talking 576 cookies in 24 hours!  (While I realize fully that agreeing to, and carrying out, this feat may be an indicator of rather serious mental health issues, I will remind you, as I continue to remind Evan hourly, that it was his idea.  I’m not sure if sadism is worse than masochism, clinically speaking, but, though  they compliment each other frighteningly well, I’m going to go with sadism as the winner and end it there.)

So, I began by looking at what felt like hundreds of cookie recipes, trying to figure out which recipes would be delicious and doable.

Celie helping

I selected and omitted, chose and deleted recipe after recipe, I made up my shopping list, worked out my schedule and called to order cooking gas.  I had 24 hours to bake a lot of cookies and get them to Family of Ellenville, and I wanted it all to be fun.  It had to be fun.  These were cookies, damn it.

The Big Day was yesterday, Saturday.  I spent Friday preparing—I shopped and cleaned the kitchen, I organized the selected recipes and put them in the order I wanted to bake them, and I called to ask what time the cooking gas would be delivered, since it hadn’t arrive the day before, as promised.  There was my first mistake if staying anxiety-free and happy had ever been my goal.  “Oh, I can’t promise that the gas will be delivered today,” the lovely creature on the other end of the telephone snapped at me.  “But you did promise.  You said it would be here yesterday or, at the latest, today,” I heard myself snap back.  Big mistake.  The Lovely held my order ticket in her rude little hand and had all of the power (yes, even her hand was rude).  “Please hold,” and she was gone for days.  When she came back on the line, she advised me that it was still possible for the delivery to be made that day.

I went to sleep on Friday night with Evan telling me that it would all be fine, that there would be enough cooking gas to bake 576 cookies, even though we had been certain that the tank was almost empty. 

And he was right.  We woke up, in the wee hours of the morning, to the gas truck pulling into the driveway.  Evan deemed it a good omen and we commenced a-baking. 

First, I mixed all of the dough that had to be chilled.  These were Peanut Butter Cookies, Peanut Butter with Dark Chocolate Chips, Orange Cookies, Orange with Dark Chocolate Chips, Butter Cookies, Dark Chocolate Mint, Butter Cookies and, finally, Snickerdoodles.  I made the batters and set them, one by one, on the table on the deck.  (It was 14 degrees outside, cold enough to chill my batters, letting the never-roomy-enough refrigerator off the hook.  The catch, of course, was that the bowls were frozen to the table when I went out to gather them for baking.  Nothing an ice pick couldn’t handle.)

I baked the Peanut Butter Cookies first, and then followed with Peanut Butter with Dark Chocolate Chips.  I counted out 24 of each after they had cooled and for breakfast, we tasted the cookies with glasses of cold milk. The cookies were delicious.  Feeling good and not wanting to break stride, I jumped into the Orange Cookies and then slid right into the Orange with Dark Chocolate Chips.  Neither of us is a fan of the orange-flavored dessert, but the Orange Cookie, even sans chocolate, was really tasty.  With chocolate, it was wonderful.  Evan had jumped in to help by washing the baking sheets and measuring cups.  It was all good.

I moved through the chilled doughs and then on through the remaining recipes, one at a time.  While we had started the day savoring a sample of each recipe and discussing its merits, by about noon, we were sharing a single cookie and throwing out a quick, “Oh, yeah, that one’s good, too,” before moving on to the next recipe.  In addition to standing on the edge of never eating another cookie, encroaching exhaustion had helped me decide to transition from baking an extra baking sheet of each recipe—for tasting and ensuring that we had the full 24, in case of breakage or miscounting—to baking about eight extra.

I made Chocolate Chip, Chocolate & Peanut Butter Chip, Dark Chocolate Chip with Toffee, Dark Chocolate Chip with Nuts, Shortbread Cookies, Oatmeal with Raisins, Oatmeal with Dark Chocolate Chips, Dark Chocolate Cookies, Dark Chocolate with Peanut Butter Chips, Dark Chocolate with Dark Chocolate Chips, Dark Chocolate with Toffee, along with Houdini’s Fruit Cookies (with strawberry jam, apple & nuts), Houdini’s Blue Cookies (with grape jam and blueberries), Houdini’s Cookies with Dark Chocolate & Nuts, and Houdini’s Cookies with Cinnamon Sugar.

 

 

By the end of the day, I was baking only two or three extra cookies, and neither of us was even remotely interested in tasting them.  (That had changed by this afternoon, you may rest assured, and we were both lamenting not having extras of the recipes we didn’t taste.  Go figure.)

Dark Chocolate Cookies

At some point late in the morning, blisters began to form on my stirring hand and my back began to give out from standing in such odd positions for extended periods of time.  By afternoon, I had grown really tired and was wondering what I had been thinking.  I was fortified, though, by Evan's forays into the kitchen to wash the baking sheets and the other things that refused to stop filling the sink.  He made a wonderful pile of orange zest for Houdini's Orange & Chocolate Cookies and fixed lunch, reminding me only occasionally that it was all sheer madness.

Orange zest

He kept a steady stream of good music floating through the house and helped keep the day, and the adventure, light and fluffy. 

By nightfall, I think I was whimpering a bit, but bad Chinese take-out for dinner, picked up and served by Evan, cloth napkins and all, gave me a nice little nudge and, before I knew it, all of the cookies were baked and ready to go (not really—it was an incredibly long day and night, and it felt like two days and nights, at least).

 

We packed all of the cookies, 24 on a plate, complete with a little card bearing the name of the cookie, and drove to Family of Ellenville.

Cookies!

We were met by the smiling face of its director and made to feel as if we had done something special.  Family is closed on the weekends, so we weren’t able to see any of the cookies handed out, but that’s okay.  Those who frequent Family—people in need of companionship and care, people who could use a hug in the form of a good cookie —will be met with our cookies on Monday morning.  

Our cookies won’t solve life’s very difficult and painful problems, this I know.  But I also know that they might just bring a smile to people who could use one for no particular reason.  Our cookies might remind them, in some small way, that they count, that a couple of people they don’t even know think they’re worth a cookie, and that feels good.

24 COOKIE RECIPES

1. DARK CHOCOLATE COOKIES

Ingredients

1 cup butter, softened
¾ cups white sugar
¾  cups packed brown sugar
1  egg
1  egg white
¼  cup dark chocolate cocoa
1 ¾  cups unbleached all-purpose flour
½  teaspoon baking soda
¼  teaspoon salt

Preparation

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F).

1.    In a mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugars until smooth and fluffy.  Beat in the egg and egg white until fully incorporated.
2.    Place a strainer over the bowl and put into it the cocoa, flour, baking soda and salt, and sift into the sugar mixture.  Mix well.
3.    Drop teaspoonsful of dough about 2 inches apart onto ungreased baking sheet . Bake for 9 to 11 minutes, until just crispy around edges.  Wait a minute or two before removing from baking sheet (the cookies will be too soft until then), and cool on a wire rack.

2. DARK CHOCOLATE COOKIES WITH PEANUT BUTTER CHIPS

Add ½ cup Reese’s Peanut Butter Chips to the Dark Chocolate Cookie recipe.

3. DARK CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

      Add ½ cup dark chocolate chips to the Dark Chocolate Cookie recipe.

4. DARK CHOCOLATE TOFFEE COOKIES
          
            Add ½ cup toffee bits to Dark Chocolate Cookies recipe.

5. DARK CHOCOLATE WITH NUTS
   Add ½ cup chopped nuts to Dark Chocolate Cookies recipe.

6.  HOUDINI’S FRUIT COOKIES
Ingredients
Dough
½ cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 ¼ teaspoons baking powder
¼ cup citrus juice
1 teaspoon good vanilla

Filling
Jam (your favorite flavor)
1 apple, peeled, cored and finely diced                              
1 cup almonds or pecans, finely chopped
Cinnamon

Preparation

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees (F).

1.    Cream together the butter and sugar until smooth and fluffy.  Beat in the eggs, one at a time.
2.    Add the juice (I usually use either pineapple or orange juice, though any citrus will work) and vanilla, and mix well.
3.    Mix together the flour and baking powder, incorporating them fully.  (I do this by placing a strainer over my mixing bowl and putting the flour and the baking powder in the strainer, and then straining the dry mixture into the wet mixture.  The flour and baking power are fully incorporated this way.  You can use a good old-fashioned sifter, too.)  Thoroughly mix together the flour and the butter mixtures.
4.    Divide the dough into 4 balls.  On a lightly floured surface, roll the first ball into a rectangle, about 1/8 inch thick. 
5.    Spread jam on the surface of rectangle, and sprinkle ¼ of the chopped apple and ¼ of the nuts over the jam.  Cover lightly with cinnamon.  Roll the rectangle, pulling one long edge toward you to make a long tube.  Repeat with the remaining 3 balls.  (Frequently, I forget to sprinkle the cinnamon on the apple mixture.  When this happens, I sprinkle it on the rolled tube.  It works just as well and some people like the look of the cinnamon on the outside of the tube.  It's your call.)
6.    Place 2 or 3 tubes on a baking sheet with the raw edge up.  (Leave about 2 inches between each tube.  Not to worry, though, if they end up touching as they expand during baking.  Separate with a knife as soon as they come out of the oven and they'll be fine.)  Bake for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the crust is a golden brown and the jam is bubbly and oozing.
7.    As soon as you remove the tubes from the oven, use a sharp knife to cut each roll, on an angle, into approximately 1 inch pieces.  (If you wait until the tube has cooled before you cut it into pieces, you’ll end up with a pan full of crumbs.)  Allow pieces to cool on racks.
 
7.  HOUDINI’S BLUE COOKIES
    To the basic dough, add 1cup blueberries and use grape or blueberry jelly; add nuts.

8.  HOUDINI’S DARK CHOCOLATE AND ORANGE COOKIES
    On the surface of the basic dough, slather 2 cups melted dark chocolate and 1 tablespoon orange zest.

9. HOUDINI’S NUTTY DARK CHOCOLATE COOKIES
   On the surface of the basic dough, slather 2 cups melted dark chocolate; sprinkle chopped almonds or     pecans sprinkled over the chocolate.  

10. HOUDINI’S COOKIES WITH SUGAR AND CINNAMON

Mix together ½ cup cinnamon and ½ cup sugar.  Sprinkle sugar mixture over the surface of the basic dough.

11. SHORTBREAD COOKIES
(Adapted from www.tasteofhome.com)
Makes about 4 dozen

Ingredients
1 cup butter, softened
¾ cup packed brown sugar
2 teaspoons good vanilla
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

Preparation
Preheat oven to 325 degrees (F).

1.    Cream butter and brown sugar in mixing bowl.  Beat in the vanilla.
2.    Slowly add the flour, mixing only until the ingredients are fully incorporated.
3.    Form tablespoons of dough into round balls (or any other shape you like).  Place about 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheet.
4.    Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Cool on wire racks.

12. Chewy Oatmeal-Raisin Cookies (Brown Eyed Baker.com)
Yield: 18 cookies
1½ cups (7½ ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
16 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened but still cool
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs
3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1½ cups raisins



1. Adjust the oven racks to the low and middle positions and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper or spray them with nonstick cooking spray.
2. Whisk the flour, baking powder, nutmeg, and salt together in a medium bowl.
3. Either by hand or with an electric mixer, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy. Add the sugars; beat until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time.
4. Stir the dry ingredients into the butter-sugar mixture with a wooden spoon or large rubber spatula. Stir in the oats and raisins.
5. Working with a generous 2 tablespoons of dough each time, roll the dough into 2-inch balls. Place the balls on the prepared baking sheets, spacing them at least 2 inches apart.
6. Bake until the cookie edges turn golden brown, 22 to 25 minutes, rotating the baking sheets front to back and top to bottom halfway through the baking time. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheets for 2 minutes. Transfer the cookies with a wide metal spatula to a wire rack. Let cool at least 30 minutes.

13.  OATMEAL WITH DARK CHOCOLATE CHIPS
Omit raisins and add dark chocolate chips

14. CHOCOLATE MINT COOKIE   (adapted from allrecipes.com)

Ingredients
3/4 cup butter
1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons water
2 cups semisweet dark chocolate chips
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon mint extract
Directions
1.    In a saucepan over medium heat, cook the sugar, butter, mint and water, stirring occasionally until melted. Remove from heat, stir in the chocolate chips until melted. (Batter will have the texture and consistency of a cake batter.) Set aside to cool for 10 minutes
2.    Pour the chocolate mixture into a large bowl, and beat in the eggs, one at a time. Combine the flour, baking soda and salt, stir into the chocolate mixture. Cover and refrigerate dough for at least 1 hour.
3.    Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease cookie sheets. Roll cookie dough into walnut sized balls and place 2 inches apart onto the prepared cookie sheets.
4.    Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven, be careful not to overbake.

15.  BUTTER COOKIE  (allrecipes.com)

Ingredients
1 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
1 egg
2 2/3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Preparation
1.    In a large bowl, cream together the butter and white sugar until smooth and fluffy. Beat in the egg, then stir in the vanilla. Combine the flour and salt; stir into the sugar mixture. Cover dough, and chill for at least one hour. Chill cookie sheets.
2.    Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Press dough out onto ungreased, chilled cookie sheets.
3.    Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven, or until lightly golden at the edges. Remove from cookie sheets to cool on wire racks.

16.   CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
(makes about 6 dozen)
Ingredients

1 cup butter, softened
¾ cup white sugar
¾ cup packed light brown sugar
1 egg
2 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
18 ounces dark chocolate chips

Preparation

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees (F)

1.      Cream together the butter and sugars until smooth and fluffy.  Add the egg, incorporating completely.
2.      Mix together the flour, baking soda and salt, and add to the butter mixture a little at a time.
3.      Mix in the chocolate chips.
4.      Drop by teaspoon onto ungreased baking sheet.  Bake for about 11 minutes, or until lightly browned around the edges.  Cool slightly before removing from pan to cool on wire rack.

17.  DARK CHOCOLATE CHIP WITH NUTS
       Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe, adding nuts.

18. DARK CHOCOLATE CHIP TOFFEE COOKIES
      Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe, adding toffee.
 
19.  DARK CHOCOLATE CHIP AND PEANUT BUTTER CHIP COOKIES         
       Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe, omitting chocolate chips and adding peanut butter chips.

20.  PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES (adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook, 6th Ed.) 
Makes about 3 dozen

Ingredients

½ cup white sugar
½ packed brown sugar
½ cup peanut butter
½ cup butter
1 egg
1 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt

Preparation

Preheat oven to 375 degrees (F)

1.      Cream sugars and butter together until smooth and fluffy; add peanut butter and egg, and beat thoroughly.
2.      Add to the butter mixture the dry ingredients, incorporating completely.
3.      Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours.
4.      Shape cold dough into approximately 1 ¼ inch balls, and place about 3 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet.  Flatten with a fork dipped in flour, making criss-cross pattern on cookie.
5.      Bake about 9 to 10 minutes, until lightly browned.  Cool slightly before removing from pan to cool on wire rack.

21.  PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES WITH CHOCOLATE CHIPS

Same as above, but add dark chocolate chips to batter and flatten with bottom of small drinking glass instead of fork.

22.  ORANGE COOKIES  (adapted from Baking Recipe Book)  makes 30

Ingredients

½ cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
grated rind of 1 large orange
11/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder

Preparation

1.      Cream butter and sugar together.  Add the yolks, orange juice and rind, and beat until blended.  Set aside.
2.      In another bowl, sift together the flours, salt and baking powder.  Add this to the butter mixture, stirring until it is a dough consistency.
3.      Wrap the dough in wax paper and refrigerate for 2 hours.
4.      Preheat oven to 375 degrees (F).  Grease baking sheets.
5.      Roll spoonsful of the dough into just smaller than walnut-sized balls and place 1 to 2 inches apart on the baking sheets.
6.      Flatten with a fork.  Baked about 8 to 10 minutes, until golden brown.  Cool on a wire rack.

23.  ORANGE KISSES
Above recipe, folding dough around dark chocolate chips before baking; don’t flatten.

 

24.  SNICKERDOODLES
Ingredients
½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened
1 ½ cups sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs
¼ cup milk
3 ½ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ cup walnuts or pecans, finely chopped

COATING
5 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

Preparation

Preheat oven to 375 degrees (F).  Grease baking sheets.

1.      Cream the butter until light.  Add the sugar and vanilla, and continue creaming until fluffy.  Beat in the eggs, one at a time, and then the milk.
2.      Sift the flour and baking soda over the butter mixture and stir to blend.  Stir in the nuts.
3.      Refrigerate for about 15 minutes.
4.      For the coating, mix the sugar and cinnamon.  Roll tablespoonsful of the dough into the walnut-sized balls.  Roll the balls in the sugar mixture.
5.      Place the balls 2 inches apart on the prepared sheets and flatten slightly.  Bake about 10 minutes, until golden brown.  Cool on wire rack.

The Director of Family of Ellenville holding 24 of the 576

And another one...!

http://veganmindedblog.com/2009/12/12/my-first-giveaway/

Hey, a giveaway!

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Happy Hanukkah with Potato Latkes...sort of...

Last night was the first night of Hanukkah.  Initially, Evan and I thought it would be nice to have a family dinner at our house.  Of course, when I say he and I had this thought, I mean I did.  I came up with it and he acquiesced, but not before he exhibited distinct signs of absolute panic as I blurted out to his father, “Why, let’s have Hanukkah here!”  Panic or no, the thing had already left our hands entirely somewhere between the words “Hanukkah” and “here.”

We—I—do this all of the time.  I make an offer and The Family instantaneously kicks into full activity in a completely inactive sort of way.  There are calls made and tentative information is exchanged, which is followed by promises to call back with revised plans and concrete information, which is entangled in failed attempts to force the plans and information out of those who will never call back anyway…and on it goes, with me, all the while, standing on the sidelines, so pissed that I stutter.  My guess is it’s the stuttering that makes it impossible for anyone to register that I’m asking to be included in the plans of the event I’m supposed to be having, but it’s hard to know.

A few years ago, we actually pulled off a Hanukkah dinner here.  I made blue and white felt gift bags, Star of David and all, and filled them with treats—chocolates and bubble gum, colorful magnets, little wooden dreidels (yes, our household remains "green" even in the midst of being utterly wasteful) for the kids and adults alike.  

We made brisket and latkes for dinner, and little chocolate cakes for dessert, and there was singing and chattering throughout the night.  We played the dreidel game and traded stories of Hanukkahs and Christmases past, and it was as much fun as the typical family gathering can be, tension and all.  It felt good to have it, and them, here.

We tried to do it again the following year.  The calls flew, the plans made and altered. 

One person was only available on the second and fifth nights of the eight day holiday, while another could be here on the fourth day for lunch or the third night, and only if he could bring six extra people, with the father concluding, after a good week of negotiations (which completely excluded Evan and me, but of course), that we’d have to do it after Christmas because of time conflicts….Needless to say, we skipped that year. 

Last year was much the same, with phone calls accompanied by planning and replanning and unplanning, every bit of which took place without us.  In the end, we skipped last year, too.

This year, I jumped right in, brain clearly leaking out of the back of my head, and offered to do it here.  Evan’s father, who was visiting for the day, immediately got on the phone to Make The Plan.  He called someone in his family, they conversed at length, and, after he hung up, he informed me that I would be advised of the plan…once it was formed.

Oh.  

Okay.

Evan’s father having left, I mulled this over for the evening and the following day, growing more and more pissed and stuttering, I have no doubt, more and more loudly.  Finally, after having a small tantrum, during which I lamented ever having made the offer in the first place, while simultaneously wondering aloud (loudly?) when I would ever learn, I decided that the chances of the dynamic ever changing were nil and I had, essentially, wasted a perfectly good hissy fit on nothing.  

Poor Evan. 

So, I called Evan’s father and had a very nice conversation with him about everything but Hanukkah.  We made no plans and there was no mention of who was available when and under what conditions.  He may still be planning a gathering; I haven’t a clue. 

And I don’t much care. 

The key to learning from experience, it would appear, is to actually learn.  This, I will venture to say, requires that one stop, completely and fully, doing the thing that leads one (okay, me) to feel shitty.  It is essential that I begin to change my own patterns, and that I understand and truly embrace the reality that I will never, ever, ever be able to change someone else’s behaviors.  Especially—I’ll go out on a limb here—the behaviors of a  family that works around The Shiksa.

In celebration of my new and improved efforts to maintain (or, at this point, rediscover) sanity amidst insanity, I made a traditional Hanukkah dinner of potato latkes for just the two of us last night.

Okay, it wasn’t exactly traditional.  For two days, I pondered the acceptability of baked, rather than fried, potato latkes, until Evan said, completely in passing, “How can that be bad?”  So, baked, it was.  And the cooking began.

Ah, yes, well, not quite that simple.  I prepared my ingredients, chopping and shredding, all the while wondering if the onions might not cook enough if baked.  “I’ll sauté them first,” I decided with conviction.  I placed the chopped onions in the oiled, heated pan, just as Evan walked through the kitchen.  “Too strong a taste if sautéd,” he declared with more conviction, “They’ll be delicious baked.” 

Since he’s usually right about such things, I mixed in the shredded potatoes and other ingredients, only to discover that the extra oil had made it all very moist, too moist to stick together in true latke form. 

On the verge of OhShitNowWhat moment, Evan walked through the kitchen again and very calmly said, “Just spread the mixture out thinly in a glass pan.  And put cheese on top.”  “But it isn’t traditional, it’s not really a latke that way,” I (no doubt) whined.  “Who cares.  Really, how can it be bad?”  I love this man.

So, one huge latke it was, baked, not fried, with cheese on top it was.  And sour cream on the side, of course, and a salad.  It was delicious and, though still not particularly healthy, it wasn’t fried. 

It was a wonderful first night of Hanukkah. It was just the two of us, a warm fire, a gaggle of snuggly cats (or is it a herd?) and our delicious latke-esque dinner.  Later, we called Evan’s father and his girlfriend.  Together we lit the first candles on the menorah, ours here and theirs in their house, while Evan and his father sang together in rich, beautiful voices.  What could be better?  

Next year, I think I’ll skip the part where I annoy the crap out of myself and jump right to the happy, warm, HowMuchCanYouReallyFuckUpShreddedPotatoesAnyway part of the holiday.  I'll be happier (translate into ever so much less of a pain in the ass) and I'm thinking Evan is probably asking for that for Christmas this year.

BAKED POTATO LATKE-ESQUE CASSEROLE

Makes 2 large casseroles

Ingredients

4 or 5 medium potatoes, grated

1 large sweet onion, finely chopped

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1 egg white

1 cup matzo meal, or finely crumbled matzo crackers
Salt and pepper to taste            
Extra virgin olive oil

Grated Asiago and Fontinella cheeses

You'll have a huge pile of grated potatoes.

Preparation

1.      Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.  Heavily coat the bottoms of 2 large glass baking dishes with extra virgin olive oil and place them inside, on the highest rack, to warm.  (The oven doesn’t have to have reached 400 degrees—you’re just warming the oil.)

2.      Squeeze the excess moisture out of the potatoes, and mix in the onions, eggs, egg whites.  Add the matzo meal or crumbled matzo crackers ¼ cup at a time, until any moisture is absorbed.  (A bit of remaining moisture is just fine if you’re making the casserole.  No moisture should be remaining if you want to make these into pancakes.).  Salt and pepper to taste.

3.      Remove glass casserole pans from the oven and, dividing the mixture evenly between the two dishes, spread a thin layer of the potato mixture in the bottom of each.

4.      Bake for about 20-30 minutes on the bottom rack of your oven.

Clearly, the only purpose of this photograph is to show off my clean oven, really...

5.      After the tops and bottoms of the casseroles have browned a bit, spread the grated cheeses over the top of each casserole.  (We love cheese, so I use a lot of it.  Add it according to your own taste, but a solid cover of cheese makes a nice topping when it’s browned.)

6.      Turn on your broiler and return the casseroles to the oven, putting them in about the middle of the oven.  You want the tops to brown, but you don’t want any exposed potatoes or matzo to burn.  Broil until browned.  (The time will depend entirely on your broiler and the distance of the casseroles from the flame.  Mine took about 15 to 20 minutes a decent distance from the high flame.)

7.      When browned to your liking, remove and enjoy with sour cream or apple sauce on the side.

8.      These babies can also be made into latkes and baked.  Everything is the same, except for the shape.  You’ll take about 2 tablespoons or so of the potato mixture and shape them into round, flattish pancakes (about ¼ inch thick).  Place them on a heavily oiled cookie sheet and bake for about 20 minutes on each side.  When they’re golden brown, they’re ready.

Happy Hanukkah!

A happy birthday with Houdini's Fruit Cookies

Evan’s brother’s 55^th birthday came and went only a short time ago.  Always game for a good party, his wife, my dear friend, had us gather for a surprise lunch.  And surprised he was.

As part of our gift to him, we gave him Houdini’s Fruit Cookies.  He loves these cookies.  I can’t imagine why anyone would want a cookie devoid of chocolate, but he does love these fruit filled babies, so I made them for him. 

Actually, I make these cookies often and I make them most often when he is about to appear on our doorstep, or we on his.  They’re easy to make and, notwithstanding their woefully chocolateless state when made according to tradition, I must admit that they are delicious.

The recipe was Evan’s mother’s.  Though she died before I had the luck to meet her, it always feels like she’s baking with me, satisfied that I’m using her recipes. 

I love using Houdini’s recipes, which we keep stored safely in a tin box on a shelf above the stove.  It’s as if she were standing next to me, grinning her beautifully toothy grin and poking me gently with her elbow, as I watch Evan’s face when he tastes the brownie batter I’m mixing or breathes in the aroma of the marble cake that’s baking, and he says he remembers the taste or smell from his mother’s kitchen.   The smile I so adore drifts across his face and he says, “That’s it.”  I bet she adored that smile, too.

Evan, The Namer of All, dubbed his mother Houdini in tribute to her happy escape, as a young woman, from New Jersey.  There was a time in life, when Evan was a teenager and young man, that it was mostly just the two of them, each looking out for the other.  He speaks lovingly, though realistically, of her, remembering with tenderness and amusement the qualities he so admired in her. 

I think he is a lot like Houdini.  He shares her love of animals, and her passion for words and writing.  Neither one of them, I suspect, ever turned away from a homeless cat or a stray person, or sidestepped an even mediocre play on words.  Evan took care of his mother when she became ill with what would be her final illness, putting his own life on hold in many ways.  He moved her into a house on the water, and there he lived with her.  I’m sure he maintained other relationships, but I’m sure, too, that his primary focus during that time was Houdini, and the care and feeding of her body and soul.

Although he seems haunted by the loss of her too early in both of their lives, he keeps her near with what feels, to this invested bystander, like pure happiness.  He beams when one of her recipes is reenacted in our kitchen.  He doesn’t seem particularly concerned about the success of the recipe and he’s never interested in the strict adherence to the letter of her laws.  He has said more than once that he thinks she would have loved the experimentation and tweaking, and would have relished the triumphs and failures alike.  She would be happy, he says, to see puddles of chocolate in place of clumps of fruit in her fruit cookies, and creamy milk chocolate dumped for rich dark chocolate in her brownie recipe.  Playing in the kitchen with me, Houdini would have laughed, I suspect, at my need to touch absolutely every dessert with chocolate, and I pretend that she would have indulged me without flinching. 

It’s funny how those cookies bring her into a gathering much the same way that memories and stories do.  I think that’s one of the reasons we so love food and its preparation—it reminds us of things, moments, people.  Acts so simple as nibbling on cookies made from the recipe my mother used when I was small helps me relive happy times and revisit comfortable places.  Lingering in a kitchen warmed by an oven baking a favorite treat fills me with a tranquility little else can and preparing a dish I loved to eat as a child creates a sense of well being so often absent from this adult world. 

And Houdini’s Fruit Cookies, made according to tradition (with fruit, not chocolate), played a part, I like to think, in bringing her to our table while we sang, ate and drank in celebration of her first child’s 55^th year. 

  

No, I didn't make the cake...

Houdini’s Cookies

Ingredients

Dough

½ cup butter, softened

1 cup sugar

3 eggs

4 cups unbleached flour

1 ¼ teaspoons baking powder

¼ cup citrus juice

1 teaspoon good vanilla

Filling

Jam (your favorite flavor)

1 apple, peeled, cored and finely diced                               

1 cup almonds or pecans, finely chopped

Cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

1.  Cream together the butter and the sugar.  Beat in the eggs, one at a time. 

2. Mix together the flour and baking powder, incorporating them fully.  (I do this by placing a strainer over my mixing bowl and putting the flour and the baking powder in the strainer, and then straining the dry mixture into the wet mixture.  The flour and baking power are fully incorporated this way.  You can use a good old-fashioned sifter, too.)  Thoroughly mix together the flour and the butter mixtures.

3. Add the juice (I usually use either pineapple or orange juice, though any citrus will work) and vanilla, and mix well.

4. Divide the dough into 4 balls.  On a lightly floured surface, roll the first ball into a rectangle, about 1/8 inch thick.  

5. Spread jam on the surface of rectangle, and sprinkle ¼ of the chopped apple and ¼ of the nuts over the jam.  Cover lightly with cinnamon.  Roll the rectangle, pulling one long edge toward you to make a long tube.  Repeat with the remaining 3 balls.  (Frequently, I forget to sprinkle the cinnamon on the apple mixture.  When this happens, I sprinkle it on the rolled tube.  It works just as well and some people like the look of the cinnamon on the outside of the tube.  It's your call.)

 

6. Place 2 or 3 tubes on a baking sheet with the raw edge up.  (Leave about 2 inches between each tube.  Not to worry, though, if they end up touching as they expand during baking.  Separate with a knife as soon as they come out of the oven and they'll be fine.)  Bake for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the crust is a golden brown and the jam is bubbly and oozing.

7. As soon as you remove the tubes from the oven, use a sharp knife to cut each roll, on an angle, into approximately 1 inch pieces.  (If you wait until the tube has cooled before you cut it into pieces, you’ll end up with a pan full of crumbs.)  Allow pieces to cool on racks.

As you may have gathered, these are also delicious with melted chocolate (I use dark chocolate) slathered on the face of the dough, chopped almonds or pecans sprinkled over it.  Of course, you’ll omit the jam, apple and cinnamon. 

Blueberries, in place of the diced apples, make a delicious cookie, too, but use fresh.  The moisture from defrosted frozen blueberries makes the dough too wet.

I'm not a fan of beige.  I don't like beige clothes or walls or food.  However, as beige as these cookies are, they really are delicious.