Stollen Moment

Of all the Christmas culinary traditions my mom has taught me--homemade biscotti, stuffed escarole, cinnamon buns--there's one that just never stuck. Despite not having an ounce of German blood, my mom loves stollen. I know, you're thinking, "What the hell is that?" Until recently, I honestly couldn't tell you much more than that it's a bread-like loaf filled with candied fruit and covered in so much powdered sugar that it almost looks like petrified wood. Mom buys herself a stollen from a bakery every Christmas, has a slice or two (my Dad, sister and I never touch the stuff) and then I guess she tosses the rest.

I started thinking about stollen this holiday season, and wondered what it was that my mom loves so much about it. I respect her taste; when she says something's good, it usually is. I looked through my cookbooks and found a recipe in The Joy of Cooking that didn't list any wacky ingredients. Pretty much a German version of pannetone, which I love. So as a surprise for Mom this year, I decided I'd make her a stollen. (Actually, I made six stollens--the recipe yield was huge. Moms going to be eating this stuff 'till July.)

I went with a recipe from a new book on artisan baking, figuring the detail would be helpful. Granted, the detail also meant I'd be involved with the project for the better part of 24 hours, but much of that time was unattended while the dough proofed. Turns out stollen's really not that complicated. It's a sweet yeast bread, with some lemon zest and cinnamon worked into the dough. It's studded with chopped bits of dried apricots, dark and golden raisins, and dried cranberries (which soaked overnight in dark rum and simple syrup; see picture above), plus some slivered almonds. It also has a ribbon of lemony almond paste running through it, a nice little surprise when you later cut a slice. I brushed each loaf with butter and sprinkled it with granulated sugar when it was just out of the oven. The recipe instructs you to then dust it with powdered sugar, but I was having visions of petrified stollen, so I skipped it.

Mom will be the real judge (since I have zero basis for comparison), but I actually think this turned out well. I toasted a slice this afternoon and ate it next to the fire as the snow swirled outside. Sure, the cozy environment helped, but I had to admit, the stollen was tasty. Heavier than pannetone, yes. But more substantial and complex, with a decent crust and a richness, thanks to the almond paste (see this rundown of international holiday sweets to put stollen in some context). I'll report back with Mom's review, so stay tuned.--S

A Holiday Cookie Bonanza

Last December I did some holiday baking, but was a little too preoccupied with wedding planning to jump into a full day, multi-recipe extravaganza. Not this year! Last weekend, my friend Kate and I churned out three varieties of holiday cookies in a tradition that I'm so glad we resurrected.

On the menu: one repeat from two years ago, Trios. They're just so cute, we couldn't resist. Definitely the labor-intensive entry in the field, but they're worth it. And as Kate pointed out, once you have the right tools (e.g., the right size cylander-shaped object to bore holes for the jelly; a tiny spoon to hold 1/8 of a teaspoon of jam), things go fairly quickly. Making them made me miss Gourmet's always gorgeous holiday cookie spread. I keep thinking the editors probably had their December package all ready to go when the magazine folded in October... and that it's probably lurking on some discarded computer's hard drive.

But onto the new! We went with two cookies Kate had spotted on other food blogs. First up: Sparkling Ginger Chip Cookies from 101 Cookbooks. True, Heidi Swanson's instructions are a tad on the persnickety side (come on--1/2 cup turbinado sugar for the cookie dough, and then an additional 2/3 cup fine grain natural cane sugar--sifted--for the exterior? who sifts sugar?). But I think we have to let her OCD slide here, because these cookies are fabulous. Definitely a sophisticated holiday sweet, with bittersweet chocolate, ground ginger, unsulphured molasses and grated fresh ginger. But so tasty! (They're pictured above, before going into the oven, and at the top of this post, after baking.)

The other recipe, for Maple Cookies from Simply Recipes, was a lot more straightforward. It was almost like a chocolate chip cookie in dough consistency (below) and technique, plus a nice glug of maple syrup (we used Stonewall Kitchen Grade A) and chopped walnuts. The smell of these babies baking was fantastic, so warm and delicious--like pancakes, actually. And the finished cookies? Excellent. Towards the end of the bowl, I guess the batter got a bit thin, so some cookies turned out sans nuts--which is a bit of a disappointment, because the nuts really compliment the maple flavor (and add texture, obviously). But the nut-less cookies would probably work nicely if you felt like having a maple-vanilla ice cream sandwich.

So there you have it. Happy baking!--S

Merry Christmas!

It started with champagne, of course. Because Christmas Eve is always celebratory: the flocking of family members from around the country to one modest New Jersey dining room, the excitement of it being the night before Christmas, the happiness that comes from delicious eating foods you consume only once a year. Reasons enough to break open the bubbly!

This year, 23 of us sat down to three tables Aunt Mimi had lined up, stretching from the dining room bay window through the hall and well into the living room (God forbid we split up and eat in small groups). And we ate. Six fishes, with a bowl of Goldfish crackers on the table as our seventh. It sure was grand. The approximate order of events follows:

1. Antipasto: roasted red peppers, Italian tuna in olive oil, olives, marinated eggplant and artichoke hearts, Provolone.
2. Fresh mozzarella with tomatoes.
3. Fried calamari.
4. Pop's smelts, with vinegar and mint.
5. Baked stuffed clams in the beautiful clam shells.
6. Fork announces the scratch-off Lotto ticket my aunt left on his plate is a winner; once he has everyone's attention he admits he didn't win the lottery, but that he hit the jackpot: Spoon and Fork are getting married!
7. More champagne, kisses, hugs, tears.
8. Pasta with clam sauce.
9. Shrimp francese, affectionately referred to as "The Shrimbola," accompanied by Pop's retelling of Uncle Louie Barese's mispronunciation of the word "shrimp."
10. Mom's stuffed escarole, this year featuring Gaeta olives (instead of pimento-stuffed), capers (as usual), golden raisins, pignoli nuts, less breadcrumbs and no Parmesan cheese. A new classic.
11. More champagne. Pop tells jokes we've heard a thousand times, we all die laughing, for the thousandth time.
12. Family assembles around the piano for the worst-ever (musically speaking) but perhaps funniest-ever (performance-wise) rendition of A Partridge in a Pear Tree. Spoon can barely keep up with the mayhem, but the glittering diamond on her finger inspires her to keep playing because it sparkles nicely as she plays. Merry Christmas!--S

Botch-a-Mi

At a party once when I was a kid, my grandparents got up and lip-synched to a 1950s Rosemary Clooney song called Botch-a-Mi, a cute little Italian ditty about a kiss making "everything go crazy." Ba-ba-baciami piccina! I still remember it, Pop looking every bit the classy Neopolitan, Mina grinning and blowing kisses out to us.

I thought of that today as I made Chocolate Kisses (Baci di Cioccolato), from Dolce Italiano, which has muscled its way onto my "frequent use" cookbook shelf. This stellar recipe was one of the first ones Gina de Palma created for Babbo, so they carry fond memories for her. Baci means "kisses" in Italian, and here two chocolate cookies are sandwiched with a kiss of chocolate ganache. They're pretty superb. The cookies have chopped almonds and amaretto (my addition, in lieu of dark rum). I made a batch for Fork's family, and after tasting one, I knew I had to make more. The second batch are cooling now. Pucker up!--S

For Good Crack, You Must Have Patience

So about that brittle. It didn't work out so well. I let it sit for a half hour, but it wasn't quite hard... so I let it sit another half hour. And then an hour. And another hour. And the brittle remained, well, not brittle at all. I slid a small metal spatula underneath the nuts and sugar, and was able to flick up bits of it, bits that were quite tasty--after all, what's not to like about nuts, sugar and butter? But it was kind of soft, and a far cry from that break-your-teeth confection known as nut brittle.

I gave it a second go last night, and am happy to report: success! It was a mere case of impatience that kept me from cracking the brittle. When you're making nut brittle, you need to heat the caramel (made of sugar, corn syrup and butter) to 300 degrees. On my first go-round, the temperature hovered around 230 degrees (according to my thermometer, the correct temp for a "soft ball"), and after 10 or so minutes, I figured my thermometer was broken and mixed in the nuts. Soft ball is what I wound up with. So last night, I took the advice of The Wednesday Chef and resigned myself to sit tight, and what do you know? The thermometer hovered at 230 for awhile, but then it began inching up, and up, and up--until it reached 300 ("hard crack," says my thermometer).

Fork stepped in to help, and we quickly mixed in baking soda and nuts, and then poured it onto a baking sheet. They should call this stage of caramel "fast hard crack," because within 30 seconds the stuff was solid. I snapped a wooden spoon in half trying to spread it around the baking sheet. But no matter, we spread it enough--and, ta da! Real, snappy brittle! Give me patience, indeed.--S

Best Biscotti

Christmas cookies of the cookie-cutter variety are cute and all, but to me, the best sweet bites of the season are biscotti. I grew up eating my family's version, which have walnuts, anise seed, anisette or sambucco, and a hint of almond extract. They're a little soft and crumbly, not too sweet and shaped a bit like rounded rectangles. A far cry from the long, skinny and rock hard versions they serve at Starbucks. I once gave some to my building's doorman and he told me they were "Delicious! They taste like something imported!"

While the family's biscotti are still my favorite, I have branched out to try many other varieties over the years, with varying degrees of success. This year I went to one of my new favorite cookbooks, Dolce Italiano, by Gina De Palma, and tested out the Mosaic Biscotti, and the Polenta and Sesame Biscotti. I'm pleased with both, though I'm partial to the polenta/sesame ones. The Mosaic Biscotti are a riot of nuts and chocolate, containing semisweet chocolate bits, and chopped hazelnuts and pistachios. They're a substantial cookie. Next time, I'd chop the chocolate into smaller pieces; the chunks I used melted into blobs that lend more of a homemade than dainty look to the biscotti. But they do taste pretty yummy. The Polenta and Sesame Biscotti, on the other hand, are, to me, the perfect biscotti. As De Palma says, sesame seeds and cornmeal are a fantastic combination. The cookies are light and lovely, with a tender-crisp texture and bright interior. A definite keeper.

I also made a batch of nut brittle to give my grandparents--they love this stuff. It's Best-Ever Nut Brittle from December's Food & Wine, and it looks pretty sweet.--S

Only 13 More Baking Days

While other girls were roaming the streets of Soho Friday evening looking for perfect gifts for friends and family, my friend Kate and I had a much better plan. Holed up in my apartment with a bottle of wine and Vietnamese takeout, we churned out some 20 dozen cookies. We soldiered on long after the last downtown boutique had closed, 'till the last cookie was cooled and nestled amid parchment paper in a freezer-safe tupperware box. Kate hopped into a cab around 1AM, laden with two big bags of homemade goodies that will go to some very lucky gift recipients.

I'm going to take the liberty of rating the contenders:

1. Trios
Thumbprint cookies times three: you form each cookie into a tiny threesome that showcases three different jams: raspberry, apricot and strawberry. These babies were work, but they were worth it; our faves for looks alone (never mind that Fork thinks they look like zygotes).

2. Monster Cookies
Leave it to Paula Deen: this recipe involved a half-dozen eggs, 2 cups of sugar, a pound and a half of peanut butter, 2 sticks of butter, 9 cups of oatmeal, and vast quantities of mini M&M's, chocolate chips and raisins. No flour (they ARE low-carb, after all). Kate made the dough in an 8-quart pasta pot since I didn't have a bowl big enough, and got quite a workout stirring it. The result: totally over-the-top and delicious.

3. Peppermint Patties
A cookie, not a candy, essentially a homemade version of the classic foil-wrapped York Peppermint Patty. These were labor-intensive and not entirely worth it, though they taste pretty good.

4. Gingerbread People
The jury's still out, since this dough is still in my freezer awaiting its formation into gingerbread moms, dads and kids. But our use of blackstrap molasses resulted in some very dark cookie dough that may or may not be reminsicent of something you don't want to eat. More to come on that.--S

The Stinky Slow-Poke Gets Baked

Fork and I hit the OG last night (the crappy Italian restaurant chain, that is; no original gangstas here). Scarred from the experience, which you can read about in the previous post, I returned home and immediately set to erasing the memory. What better way to do that than baking cookies?

To me, baking Christmas treats is one of the best parts of the season. Something about it goes against the boisterous intensity of the holiday rush. You're in your own kitchen, wearing clothes you don't care about getting dirty, alone and not forced into polite conversation with anyone. And unlike cakes or pies, with (most) cookies, you get near-instant gratification: 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees, and you've got a warm cookie in one hand; a glass of milk, or mug of hot cider or cocoa in the other. So far this season, I've already made a batch of chocolate-cranberry-almond biscotti and a few dozen cookie-cutter cookies. And I'm just getting started.

Last night I made a cookie that's fast becoming one of my holiday faves. It's a chewy molasses spice cookie from Everyday Food, of all places. I made them last year and wrapped them up in little stacks, tied with ribbon, to give to Fork's family. This year I have no intended recipient. I just wanted to, no, needed to bake something after enduring the processed, corporate kitchen stylings of the Olive Garden.

One of the good things about these particular cookies is that you don't need much to make them, and I was able to make do without having to compound the trauma of dinner at the Olive Garden with a trip to Morton Williams. All you need is a 1/4 cup of molasses (duh), 1 and 1/2 sticks of butter, an egg, some nutmeg, cinnamon and the standard baking ingredients: flour, sugar, baking soda, salt.

If you've ever opened a jar of molasses and taken a whiff you know it's pretty gross. Kind of like the Olive Garden. Molasses is a thick syrup "by-product" from the processing of sugarcane or sugar beets into sugar, and how could any "by-product" ever smell good? Somehow it morphs from nasty goo into chewy fabulousness once baked. Incidentally, molasses is also the base material for fermentenation into rum. Cool.

After 11 minutes in the oven and a minute resting on the cookie sheet, the cookies are chewy, crisp on the outside, nice and soft on the inside. A warm cookie, a glass of milk and all is once again right in the world, or at least in my little Manhattan apartment on a chilly December night.--S

Chewy Molasses-Spice Cookies
Makes 36

2 c all-purpose flour
1 1/2 t baking soda
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t nutmeg
1/2 t salt
1 1/2 c sugar
12 T (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 large egg
1/4 c molasses

1. Preheat oven to 350°. In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. In a shallow bowl, place 1/2 cup sugar; set aside.
2. With an electric mixer, beat butter and remaining cup of sugar until combined. Beat in egg and then molasses until combined. Reduce speed to low; gradually mix in dry ingredients, just until a dough forms.
3. Pinch off and roll dough into balls, each equal to 1 tablespoon. Roll balls in reserved sugar to coat.
4. Arrange balls on baking sheets, about 3 inches apart. Bake until edges are just firm, 10 to 15 minutes. Cool 1 minute on baking sheets; transfer to racks to cool completely. Store in an airtight container, 3 to 4 days.