Here Be Shortcuts: Christmas Kitchen Witchcraft
Readers, please enjoy this guest blog post by Linda Raedisch, author of The Old Magic of Christmas and the new Secret History of Christmas Baking.
The Secret History of Christmas Baking took me almost two years to write. I did everything by the Old World book: candying my own orange and lemon peel, leaving my Pfefferkuchen dough to age for days in a corner of the kitchen, grating my own nutmeg, and crushing cardamom pods with my little mortar and pestle. By the time I’d sent the manuscript off to my editor, I was ready to take life easy. Don’t worry: I put a few shortcuts in the book, too. I gave you, dear reader, permission to buy already-grated nutmeg, and I included my mother’s Homestyle Lebkuchen recipe for those who aren’t ready to tackle the labor-intensive, days-long endeavor that is the traditional Elisenlebkuchen. (Lebkuchen and Pfefferkuchen are also known as, but not necessarily the same thing as, gingerbread. It’s a long story, one that takes up several chapters of the book.)
Here’s another trick I stumbled on after I’d submitted the manuscript, and after I’d misplaced my piping bag. In the book, I tell you to top your Linzer tartlets (a jam-filled, hazelnut cookie that originally was and still often is baked as a large, latticework torte) with the traditional piped ring of ground almond mixture. Piping is a task I despise, especially when it’s something sticky like marzipan. When I made Linzer tartlets more recently, instead of the piped ring, I rolled out a loaf of marzipan and cut out crescent moons with the same little cup I had used to cut out the circles of Linzer dough. I spread the rounds with raspberry jam, as in the traditional recipe, and lay a crescent moon over each of the rounds, the outer edge of the crescent flush with the edge of the dough. This allowed the pretty red raspberry jam to show on the dark side of the moon. All that cutting out takes some time, but it’s a lot easier than piping, and nothing says “witchy Christmas cookie” better a crescent moon!
The following recipe for Brownie Gingerbread Cookies is even easier than Linzer Moons or my mom’s Homestyle Lebkuchen. Someone always brings chocolate chip cookies to the bake sale table at our town’s annual Salt Box Fair. Someone always brings brownies, too. My cookies look like ordinary chocolate chip cookies except for their rich, dark color. And they smell like gingerbread. What witchcraft is this? It’s kitchen witchery, that’s what! Or maybe it’s just the need to come up with an original recipe when one has very little time or energy left. Note: these cookies look and taste just as good at Halloween as at Christmas!
Recipe: Brownie Gingerbread Cookies
1 “Family” or 13″ x 9″ pan-size brownie mix
2 eggs
1 stick butter, softened
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon or allspice
½ teaspoon cardamom
½ teaspoon black pepper
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon cloves
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)
In a large bowl, mix all ingredients except chocolate chips until well blended. Do not overmix. Fold in chocolate chips and walnuts; dough should be stiff enough to scoop with a spoon. If not, let it stand for 15 minutes.
Heat oven to 375 °F and line a cookie sheet with baking parchment. Using two spoons, scoop up a tablespoonful of dough at a time and drop on the parchment in rows, leaving about an inch between each cookie. Bake for 9 minutes. Repeat with the rest of batter and let cool completely before sealing in an airtight container. While these cookies do taste good right out of the oven, you’ll be able to appreciate the spices after they’ve had a chance to “coalesce” for a few days. Makes about 60 cookies.
In case you’re wondering, the answer is no, I haven’t found my piping bag. I’m starting to wonder if I lost it accidentally on purpose. Even if I find it again, I’m not inclined to use it; those Linzer Moons are much more fun to make.
Our thanks to Linda for her guest post! For more from Linda Raedisch, read her article “Of Houses, Witches, and Gingerbread Bois.”
