Visions of sugarplums and rocky road

While I'm not a huge Christmas person, there are three things I really like about this time of year:

1) Extra days off work.

2) The license to consume obscene amounts of sugar and alcohol.

3) The spirit of generosity.

All of these things converge this week. Starting tomorrow, I have five days off, which is not as great as the two weeks some people have but is certainly better than no days off! Among the things I want to do before Christmas is deliver cookies around town.

While many people bring sweets to their friends and neighbors, I've gotten in the habit of delivering cookies to some of the people I appreciate all year round even though they're not friends. This sometimes includes the corner grocer or the local drycleaner, but it always includes the butcher and the vet.

This year's goodies include the fabulous array of cookies my friends and I baked on Sunday. Of course there were my Mexican wedding cookies, but there were plenty of other treats, truly something for everyone.

Peanut butter and jelly cookie sandwiches: a good excuse to eat two cookies masquerading as one.

 

Biscotti, for the adult in some of us.

 

Soft ginger cookies.

 

Thumbprints filled with homemade jam.

I'll happily risk losing a tooth for this toffee.

Cranberry-orange-pistachio cookies, in perfect Christmas colors.

My miniature black and whites (which were not nearly as photogenic as the ones on the Gourmet cover.)

 

Sugarplums, which I'd never had before. They were nutty, chewy, and delicious.

 

Shortbread with peppermint bark: buttery, minty, chocolatey perfection.

 

German cinnamon stars, crunchy and spicy.

And the divine rocky road.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Love,

Hungry Dog

Lonely heart Mexican wedding cookies

This morning, the husband left at the crack of dawn for Kentucky. It was so early--around 4 am--that I barely remember kissing him goodbye before he was off, and Frances and I shuffled back to bed. When I awoke several hours later, it seemed like a dream.

But once I was up and the dog was walked and I was settled in front of the newspaper with a cup of coffee, I became intensely aware of how quiet the house was. Don't get me wrong--the husband is not a loud person. In fact, he's particularly quiet in the morning. But when you've got a steady routine built up for about 10 years, something as subtle as someone not being around to say nothing is noticeable.

It's nice to have a few hours to yourself, that's true. I lazed around the house, finished my mystery novel, and wrote out a few holiday cards. After that, I started missing the husband for real.

So as not to dwell on things too much, I thought I'd better make some cookies. Tomorrow, my mother and some family friends and I are gathering for our annual cookie baking day. We'll all bring a few batches to share--some dough to bake off, as well as some cookies baked but needing final touches, and we'll spend the day baking, frosting, decorating, and eating. At the end of the day, we'll stagger away in sugar comas, having swapped cookies so that we all return home with at least a dozen different kinds.

I usually bring two kinds, and the first I'd decided on were Flo Braker's Mexican wedding cookies. The recipe is dead simple and took just moments to pull together. Once I pulled them from the oven and dusted them with powdered sugar, I had trouble resisting them.

Since no one was around to judge me, I decided not to.

I mean, look at these little guys. They're positively bite-sized.

They had a buttery, tender crumb, and I could taste the walnuts running through them. These cookies are beautiful and easy and will definitely become a staple in my repertoire.

Later tonight or tomorrow, I'll start my miniature black and white cookies. I'm planning to bake them ahead of time, then frost them at the party. But for now, I think I'll settle in on the couch for a bit, see if I can find some guilty television to watch. I miss my honey but I may as well enjoy being master of the remote control while I can. With a little plate of cookies, of course.

Christmas test run: Alice Waters's potato gratin

This year, we'll be hosting Christmas dinner for my mother and some friends. I've been assembling the menu in my mind, looking for the perfect balance of festive and simple, trying to pick things that will be delicious but not cause me too much stress. So far, I've decided on a roast pork loin with fig sauce and a potato gratin.

I've made gratins before, mostly with success, but with some mishaps, including a few that turned out too liquidy or not cooked all the way through. Over the weekend, I combed through my recipes and figured doing a test run might not be a bad idea.

When looking for a simple, perfect treatment for vegetables, turning to Alice Waters seems natural. Last year, the husband gave me her cookbook, The Art of Simple Food. For some reason, I haven't cooked a lot from it--I'm not sure why.

I liked the sound of her potato gratin, which called for the following short list of ingredients: Yukon gold potatoes, milk, butter, salt and pepper. You can't get much simpler than that.

She suggested some ways to jazz it up a little, which I did. I rubbed the baking pan with a clove of garlic, and added thyme and grated parmesan between the layers.

Now, about the potatoes.

Four years ago, we received a mandoline as a wedding gift. Since May of 2005, this lovely and thoughtful gift has sat in its little box and stared at me, threatening to slice my fingers to shreds. It took until last weekend for me to risk it.

What's my problem? you ask. I'm a scaredy cat dog.

In my defense, shortly after we got married, I sustained a traumatic kitchen injury resulting in a trip to urgent care, and had to bumble around with a cumbersome bandage over my left hand for a few weeks. It took me a year to use that Globe knife again (also a wedding gift), which had proved to be very sharp indeed. Trying out another tool that came with all kinds of warning labels did not seem appealing.

Anyhow, I finally braved the mandoline, and what do you know, if you use the safety guard and go slow, it's really not that terrifying. It sliced the potatoes into delicate, thin slices, which I spread out in ruffly layers in my beloved Emile Henry baking pan.

The gratin turned out perfectly golden, with crispy edges, smelling of woodsy thyme and parmesan.

Inside, it was soft and creamy, the potatoes perfectly cooked. Success!

Now, to figure out dessert.

Alice Waters's Potato Gratin

adapted from The Art of Simple Food

4 large Yukon gold potatoes (about 1 1/2 lbs), sliced about 1/16"

1 cup of milk (I used whole)

3 T. butter, cut into pieces, plus a little more for greasing the pan

1 clove of garlic, peeled and cut in half

fresh thyme, parmesan, salt and pepper, all to your taste

Preheat the oven to 350.

Rub a 9x12 baking pan with the garlic, then grease with butter.

Spread one layer of potatoes over the bottom, sprinkle salt, pepper, thyme, and parmesan over, and repeat. Do not exceed three layers. Pour the milk over the top, so that the milk comes to the bottom of the top layer of potatoes. Add more if necessary. Dot with butter and sprinkle with more parmesan. Bake for 30 minutes. At this point, press down on the gratin with a spatula to make sure the milk is reaching all the potatoes. Bake for another 30 minutes, or until browned and bubbling. If you'd like (I did), add a little extra parmesan to the last 15 minutes of baking. Let sit for 5-10 minutes after removing from the oven.