Thursday, December 23, 2010

Quite Possibly The Best Christmas Cookies. Ever.


I rarely claim to offer the "best" recipe for anything, but there are two items that I'm pretty confident about: apple pie and Christmas cookies.

I can't take credit for these marvelous cookies. They came to me by way of my mother, from her friend Susan Christensen, as part of a cache of recipes printed in Courier New font onto white paper and stapled into a packet. I don't know where Susan got them, but I assume that they were handed down over the years through her family. Our packet is now covered in egg white and slicks of chocolate and other varied kitchen detritus, as any well-loved recipe should be after many years of service.

The Christensen Classic Cookie Collection, as it is so called, includes eight or nine recipes, including Tea Time Tassies, Icebox Cookies, Almond Crescents, and Miniature Pecan Pies. My favorite has always been the English Toffee Squares. They are simple, unfussy, utterly indulgent, and they freeze and ship well. They are divine with a cup of tea. They are nearly impossible to flub.

Over the years I've adapted the Christensen recipe slightly. I've switched from light brown sugar to dark and from Hershey's bars to fancier chocolate, as well as adding fleur de sel, which provides a nice counterpoint to the cookies' sweetness.

I make several batches of English Toffee Squares every year, serving them at my Christmas party and packing them off to my father, grandfather, godfather, and this year at least, to my boss. I really believe that in each of these cases, handmade sweets are just about the best present I can give.


So, for all of you sitting at home or at work wringing your hands about yet unpurchased Christmas prezzies, my advice is to buy a a few pretty cookie tins and some ribbon and make these cookies (one batch will fill 2-3 tins). You will probably be done baking before you would get through the checkout line at Best Buy. Plus, Best Buy doesn't let you lick the bowl.


English Toffee Squares
Adapted from The Christensen Classic Cookie Collection

Makes 30 large cookies

1 cup unsalted butter
1 cup dark brown sugar
2 cups flour
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
12 ounces good milk or dark chocolate (Scharffen Berger, Valrhona)
1 cup chopped pecans
Fleur de sel or Maldon's Sea Salt for sprinkling

1. Cream well together butter and brown sugar, then add flour, egg yolk, and vanilla.

2. Spread evenly on an 11x17 baking sheet and bake for 15-20 minutes in a 350 degree oven (until lightly brown).

3. Scatter chocolate on top and return to oven for 1 minute to melt. Remove from oven, spread chocolate evenly, and sprinkle with chopped nuts.

4. Let cool slightly then sprinkle with fleur de sel. Cut into squares while still warm.

Monday, December 20, 2010

There Is Exactly No One Who Really Needs This Pineapple Tool For Christmas

Well, maybe that's not fair. Maybe you have a friend who is especially enamoured with fresh pineapple, eats several on a daily basis, and is desperately seeking a tool that will shave seconds off his pineapple slicing time. But most of us? Most of us really do not need this thing.

I'll admit that I'm a real snob when it comes to kitchen gadgets. I'm convinced that 90% of the things for sale in a kitchen store are a waste of money. Sometimes I go into Williams Sonoma just to see the young couples with their wedding registry gun scanning things like an olive and cherry pitter, a corn stripper, specialty pancake flipping tools, a frozen margarita machine. Amateurs, I think. Just buy a good paring knife and call it a day.

But, if you're a known kitchen enthusiast, people will always want to buy you kitchen stuff. There are good choices and bad ones. As I write this, there are only five more shopping days until Christmas (actually, four days, thirteen hours, and twenty six more shopping minutes), so I thought I would provide all the last-minute shoppers out there with a little guidance.

In an earlier post, I told you about the only eight pots and pans that you need to cook almost anything; for those that already have those essentials as well as your typical compliment of spatulas, wooden spoons, measuring cups, and the like, here's my list of my favorite kitchen implements (in no particular order):

1. Food processor - I started out with a mini food processor and then used it so much that I graduated to a full sized one. I have never looked back. This machine can blend, chop, slice, and even knead dough. Heck, it's so handy that Mark Bittman wrote a whole piece in the New York Times praising it. I use my food processor frequently to make pureed soups, dips, and ravioli fillings, and as a tear-free way to chop large quantities of onions.

2. Hand mixer - If you're a dedicated baker then it probably makes sense to splurge for the full-on stand mixer, but everyone should be equipped with at least a hand blender. It's inexpensive and compact and can foam egg whites, mix dough, whip cream, and much, much more.

3. Digital kitchen scale - Not just for people on Weight Watchers! Indispensable if you cook from any non-American cookbooks, which measure most things by weight instead of volume (note: this is actually a much, much more accurate way to do things). Even if you don't, weight measurements come up all over the place. It's best to have a scale.

4. Mandoline slicer - For slicing/chopping, much more precise than a knife and much speedier. Can slice to 1/16" thickness and dispenses with large chopping jobs in a blink of an eye.

5. Pasta maker - If you're like me and think that there's no better way to spend an afternoon than rolling out fresh pasta on a hand crank machine, this little Imperia is perfect for you. I probably use this machine once a month, and having it around has thoroughly ruined me for store bought pasta.

6. Spice grinder - Freshly ground spices beat the pants off the pre-ground variety. If you invest in a small spice grinder, you can buy whole spices and grind them to use. You'll find that they're more pungent and their flavors more complex.

7. Mise en place bowls - When I'm cooking, I do all the chopping/slicing work at the beginning and have all of my prepared ingredients ready to go in individual bowls (a practice called mise en place by the French). This makes the actual cooking process a breeze, and lets you feel like you're on a cooking show!

8. How To Cook Everything, by Mark Bittman - There was a time in my life when I used to think that Googling a cooking question was a reliable way to find the right answer. Now I turn to How to Cook Everything and I can promise that I end up with much better information. It's a fantastic, comprehensive reference material for to getting everything from basic information (what internal temperature should pork be cooked to?) to creative guidance (what are some variations I can make to a basic red sauce?).

9. Pepper mill - Along the same lines as freshly ground spices, there is even less excuse to EVER use pre-ground pepper, which pales in comparison to the fresh stuff.

10. Pastry bag and tips -This might seem intimidating, but once you get a little bit of practice with a pastry bag, it becomes very easy to use. It can be used for everything from filling ravioli to decorating a cake.


And, some items on my wish list:

1. Food mill - Essential for making things like apple sauce, smooth jams, anything where you're separating seeds, skins, and fibers away from pulp/juice.

2. Salad spinner - Somehow I just haven't gotten around to buying a salad spinner, and it's really annoying to have to towel dry vegetables after washing them. This collapsible one would be perfect for a 'storage challenged' person such as myself.

3. Japanese chef's knife - The most important tool you have in your kitchen is a your chef's knife. Most of the chefs that I know use Western style, Japanese made knives. This one by Togiharu is far from the priciest option (think $500 and up for really high-end ones), but comes highly recommended.

4. Sharpening stone and DVD - There's no point in having great knives unless you keep them sharp (sharp is different than honed, which is what you do when you scrape them across that wand-like honing steel in your knife block). I currently trek downtown to Sur La Table once every couple of months to have my knives sharpened. It's a waste of time and money, so I'm intent on learning to do it myself.

5. Nutmegs - It's nice to keep a whole nutmeg or two on hand and grind a dusting into anything from mac and cheese to cookies to sauteed greens. The spice deepens the flavors of both sweet and savory dishes, and loses its pungency quickly once ground.

6. Good to the Grain, by Kim Boyce - When you hear enough good things about a cookbook, you just have to buy it. I've heard Boyce's chocolate chip cookies alone are worth the price of the book.

7. Kitchen timer - You can spend $20 on a kitchen timer, or you can keep telling yourself that you'll remember to get up from the couch when 17 minutes are up. Your choice.

8. Mortar & pestle - I love manual tools, and picture myself muddling things with this mortar and pestle, or making garlic paste, I don't know. Plus, it's nice looking and therefore decorative?

9. Ratio, by Michael Ruhlman - Sounds like it should be a Malcolm Gladwell book, but it's actually by baker extraordinaire Michael Ruhlman. I'm really drawn to cookbooks that deal with principles rather than just providing recipes, and this one exposes the standard ratios (fat:flour, flour:water, etc) at the heart of all cooking and baking.

10. Slow cooker - Say what you will about slow cookers but who wouldn't want to come home this February to short ribs and potatoes that had been in an all-day braise?

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Yep, That Just About Sums It Up

Christmas Party As Viewed By Hostess, December 10, 2010

Well, the annual Christmas party is now over. It came and went in a blur, partially due to the freely flowing Gruet and mulled cider (spiked with Brandy to toxic levels by my own hand), but mostly as a side-effect of playing hostess. I should just admit it up front: I'm never going to have meaningful conversations when I'm putting on a cocktail party for sixty. It might as well be a law of physics. There are always fires to put out -- hopefully not literal ones -- but empty glasses, that inevitable guest foundering alone in a corner, gougeres on the verge of burning. One day maybe I'll have people to refill the empty dip bowl and replace the toilet paper...but, as The Viking never ceases to remind me, that won't be anytime soon.

Last week I gave you a preview of some of the party treats that had already been baked. Below is a continuation of the series.

This year, for the first time, I made masala-spiced popcorn. It wasn't exactly a blockbuster, but I think it could have been if I was a little more liberal with the butter. Since it was very, very cheap (less than $10 yields gallons of it) and beyond easy to make (pop corn; add butter, spices, salt), I think it's a recipe worth perfecting.


The above represents my first foray into paté, and I'm quite proud of my maiden effort. The number one thing that I learned about making paté is that you probably shouldn't, if you'd like to continue enjoying eating it with the same abandon. This one is made from chicken liver, and the secret ingredient that lends it sweetness and depth of flavor is caramelized onion. The not-remotely-secret ingredient that makes it taste so rich: butter.


These raspberry macaroons look far better than they tasted. I love a good macaron, and this is not one of them. The recipe called for the delicate little cookies to be filled with store bought raspberry jam. I knew up front that that couldn't be a formula for success, and I had the best intentions of making my own raspberry filling. I had the ingredients in hand but at the critical moment -- which had to have been about 11 PM on Wednesday night -- I wimped out. All the talk of food mills and pectin and candy thermometers was too much for me. I used store bought jam instead, and the final product turned out sickly-sweet and only weakly reminiscent of raspberries.

Not pictured here are two lovely dips: an avocado green goddess dip with crudites, and a roasted red pepper and feta dip with toasted flatbreads. Oh, and a cheese plate. I never did take pictures of any of them.

This Danish almond cake was only modestly popular with party guests, but I think that it suffered unfairly in comparison to its richer, showier fellow hors d'oeuvres (those English Toffee Squares are such sluts). I can report that it is absolutely unbeatable with your morning coffee or afternoon tea.

Danish almond cake is something that my mother used to make at her Christmas parties when I was a toddler, back in the [decade redacted to protect the innocent]. Luckily for me, she has always kept a notebook in which she records each party that she hosts, what was served, who attended, and how the various dishes were received. Thumbing through the notebook over Thanksgiving I saw the Danish almond cake with a note reading "A big hit!" and I decided to take it for a spin. The recipe comes from a little book who's name escapes me, but that I remember as old, non-commercial, and flimsy enough looking to make me feel like the recipe was a real find.

Danish Almond Cake

1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
3 teaspoons almond extract
1/3 cup boiling water

For glaze:
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 Tablespoon cocoa
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 drops almond extract
3 teaspoons warm water

Cream butter and sugar until fully combined. Add eggs and mix well. Gradually add flour sifted with baking powder and salt. Beat thoroughly. Add almond extract and boiling water. Mix well. Pour into greased 9 or 10 inch spring-form or tube pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, reduce to 325 for last 30 minutes. Cool 10 minutes and remove from pan. Pour glaze over the cake, spreading it over the surface of the cake and letting it sink into the crumb. Decorate with whole blanched almonds.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Christmas Entertaining, The Prequel

Welcome to my first, and oh so belated, Christmas post. I hope that it is the first of several to be crammed into the next two weeks.

Yes, I am a nut for the holidays. The infectious songs, shiny ornaments, the old movies, claymation TV specials, the smell of pine, the cooking, entertaining, merry-making, carol-singing, present-wrapping, and even better, present-unwrapping. At what other time of year do people actually trample each other outside malls in a quest to buy toys? It's magical. I even love, in a certain way, the frenetic pace of things as our social lives go on steroids at the same time as we're scrambling to make year-end professional deadlines. In December, I am virtually always working, drunk, hungover, or some combination of the three. Glorious.

One of the tent poles of my holiday season for six years running has been a Christmas cocktail party. I tend to go a little bit overboard. I know this. Last year there was a Croquembouche involved, and meringue mushrooms. Before our 2008 party I asked The Scribe, my then roommate, if he was looking forward to co-hosting the event. He nodded unconvincingly, so I pressed him. "I'm scared," he said in a small voice. "I'm scared that I'm going to mess something up."

I believe that when you've realized that you posses some undesirable character trait, you have two options: you can apologize for yourself and try to reform, or embrace it as one of your defining quirks. I chose the latter. I told him that fear was a powerful motivator and suggested that he not touch the jar of creme fraiche ripening on the counter.

Now I live with The Viking, and he has taken over the role of 'supporting male roommate' with true aplomb. He refers to me as 'her majesty' and mostly stays out of my way, swooping in at key moments to take out the trash, say, or taste-test the pate in my moments of personal doubt ("Yummy! You're so clever. Who knew livers could taste this good.").

This year's Christmas party is happening tomorrow night. There will be a full report after the fact (including food shots and casualty figures for wine, beer, and liquor consumed) but for now, some previews of what I've baked so far. Isn't it amazing what can happen when you take photos in natural light?

Gougeres (aka french cheese puff thingies), from Alain Ducasse's recipe, are an annual Christmas party fixture.

Kourabiedes, a Greek cookie flavored with clove, from my mother's recipe.

My go-to Christmas cookies: English Toffee Squares.


As soon as I discovered that a Sugar Plum was a real thing (containing no real plum, but lots of dried fruit, ground nuts, and spices), I had to make them. They might be the most underrated Christmas treat out there.