Cookies & Christmas

It’s Christmas-time in the city.  The huge star is shining at 57th and 5th, there’s a huge tree at Rockefeller Center, our morning newscasters warn us of “holiday gridlock traffic,” and Salvation Army bell-ringers have joined the buskers in the subway.  The scent of peppermint hot chocolate and holly berries is wafting from the Sony building (how do they do that?), the salesgirls at Bloomingdales are wearing Santa caps, tourists (and the rest of us) stand awe-struck before the awesome glory of Bergdorf’s windows, and cramped sidewalk Christmas tree stands are tempting us all with the scent of pine and nostalgia.

Here in our corner of Brooklyn the Santa plate is taking the fine china’s place of honour, a soft film of glitter from disrupted ornaments covers our table, the Christmas music is chiming and my darling O. is trying to figure out how we can pile the couch on top of my favourite turquoise chest of drawers so I can have the 6 foot tree of my dreams.  I think the ornaments are going to be displayed in crystal bowls this year, but who can mourn when there’s baking to do?  Drop the garland, gulp down the eggnog, and grab your spatula:  we’re going on a magical cookie tour.

Of course they didn’t know it at the time, but December 2008 was the last December issue of Gourmet. It’s rather fitting, then, that the issue contained Gourmet’s Favourite Cookies 1941-2008, a compilation of the best holiday cookies from each year of the magazine’s publication.

Images courtesy of gourmet.com

Christmas is a nostalgic holiday, a time when we become a little more child-like, a little more reminiscent, open-hearted and, in my case it seems, verbosely cheesy.  Ahem.

Consider the treats we make for Christmas – sure we might try a few new recipes but we always return to the old standbys, the recipes we know by heart because we learned them standing on a chair next to our mothers and grandmothers, patiently waiting to add the pecans or lick the spoon of fudge.  Maybe I can reach the counter myself now, but when I’m baking nanaimo bars or shortbread, adding jam to thumbprint cookies, dipping turtles or adding a tablespoon (or four) extra of rum I feel like I am back with my mother, grandmother and aunt laughing and making a mess, caught up in the excitement of rising bread and rustling wrapping paper.

There is a history to our celebrations, a history to our food and the memories linked to it. That’s what I loved so much about this feature; this is part of an irreplacable magazine’s history, sure, but more than that it’s a glimpse at the baking done annually in American homes for some sixty years.  The year I was born Linzer bars were a favourite dessert, but the year my Dad was born something called Sugar Shuttles were the latest delicacy.   Can you believe it took us ’til the eighties to perfect the Bourbon Ball?  Especially great is that each recipe is in its original form – you’ll be amazed at how different (and simpler!) directions in 1947 were from 1997.

My baking starts this weekend.  I’ll make my childhood favourites, but I’ll also try my hand at Chocolate Coconut Squares, or the incandescent Stained-glass Teardrops.  If they’re a disaster, so be it.  I learned Thumbprint Cookies from the master, and if all else fails I’ll literally knock them dead with Bourbon Balls.

A toast to Christmas, and the trumping of calorie counts and Stairmasters by cookies and nothing more strenuous than rising to offer a heartfelt toast of thanks for the years we remember and those yet to come.

Top row: Glittering Lemon Sandwich Cookies (2008); Anise-scented Fig & Date Swirls (1996); Gingerbread Men (1959); Stained-glass Teardrops (2002).  Second Row: Spritz (1983); Jelly Centers (1948); Apricot Chews (1966); Souvaroffs (1984).  Third Row: Brown Butter Cookie (1961); Sugar Shuttles (1951); Moravian White Christmas Cookies (1946); Chocolate Sambuca Crinkle Cookies (1999).  Bottom Row: Almond Bolas (1975); Florentines (1968); Brazil Nut Crescents (1958); Linzer Bars (1979).