Americana Cookies – Page 3 – Heritage Cookies of the Old and New World

NUT HORNS (a/k/a Kipferl a/k/a Hornchen a/k/a Mexican Wedding Cookies, Russian Wedding Cookies, Italian Wedding Cookies, Greek Kourambiedes, etc.)

This is a sample drawn directly from our book Heritage Cookies of the Old and New World. The first part is our favorate “Cookie Nerd Moment” of the entire tome. This is where we stop and take the time to discuss particular tricks, tips, and historical bits that provide a lot of the “why” behind the recipe’s “what.”
You can skip to the bottom if you really want only the recipe, but this is one case where I need to recommend the full read even if you know what you’re doing. The refresher course on Tips and Tricks never loses its value.
Enjoy,
Scott Pavelle

COOKIE NERD MOMENT

Anyone who makes 20 or 30 different cookies each Christmas gets used to two common questions: “What are your favorite cookies” and “What is the favorite cookie in general?” There is no answer. Everyone has his or her own favorite and there isn’t a single cookie that would touch the 10% mark if we kept track of who voted for what.

You probably could have guessed those two if you’d given it a bit of thought. But the third most common question might surprise you: “Do you know how to make [Nut Horns]?” We put that in brackets because the same basic cookie is loved with fervor and devotion across a huge part of the world with very minor changes. In Central Europe the cookie’s known by some word that translates as either Nut Horns or Nut Crescents (Kipferl in Austria and Hörnchen in Germany are two examples). Eastern European bakers shape them into balls, often with a heavier percentage of walnuts, and call them Russian Tea- or Wedding Cookies. Move south and west and the name turns into Italian Wedding Cookies, also ball shaped but with a tilt toward almonds. The south and east features ball-shaped Greek Kourambiedes, which have slightly fewer nuts but include some brandy. The New World knows them best as Mexican Wedding Cookies, which usually feature pecans. We could go on.

Simplicity plays a big part in the cookie’s charm. It’s all about the nuts, with vanilla to heighten their impact. Powdered sugar goes on top – a heavy coat that may also have a hit of vanilla. The Greeks stand out by adding a single whole clove for decoration.

There’s also a common structural theme: you’re after a cookie so tender that it will shatter to fragments at the slightest excuse, and will dissolve in your mouth with a burst of buttery, nutty goodness. That’s the hard part – getting them just tough enough to wait for an excuse without losing that meltiness.

We spent many years fidgeting and playing with this recipe to get it just right. The final product incorporates a number of subtle tricks that will add up to make the best [Nut Horns] you’ve ever eaten. Better even than Grandma’s!

TRICK #1 (for flavor): Toast the nuts in advance. It gives you a longer, deeper flavor.
TRICK #2 (for texture): The textures from your nuts matter as much as the flavors. We strongly prefer to mix that texture up to give the full experience from meltingly soft in most parts to recognizable bits sprinkled here and there. We always start by using a rotary grater to reduce at least half the nuts to a point just short of where you’d start calling them “nut flour.” Maybe even a little short of “nut meal.” The other half should be a mix of textures ranging from “finely ground” to “finely chopped”. If push comes to shove we suggest a 50/50 mix of nut flour for the first half and ground nuts for the second. Grandma may have ground all the nuts for convenience but even she would agree that mixing the textures adds something extra.
TRICK #3 (for flavor and texture): We also favor a mix of nuts. This particular trick may cause Grandma to start muttering about upstarts and heretics when you mention it, but trust us: a little hint of walnut will make your pecans taste more “pecany”, just as some almond and hazelnuts will make your walnuts more “walnutty.”
TRICK #4 (for flavor): A hefty pinch of salt also enhances the nut flavors. Just make sure to use so little that no one can tell it’s there.

TRICKS #5.a to 5.c (to counter fragility): Our recipe hovers right on the edge of falling apart into a 50% casualty rate from being too tender. There are several tricks and options designed to pull it back from that horizon. You’re going to need at least one of them:
- A spoonful of water in the flour adds just enough gluten to hold it together. This trick doubles as a way to customize for your particular kitchen and flour.
- An egg yolk in the dough works too and is more traditional, but can make the cookies caky if it goes too far. This was the “cheat” that Grandma used in secret because her best friend, the one she wanted to bake like, didn’t need to.
- Working the dough as you form the crescents can also add a little gluten, but it comes with a real warning: the heat of your hands can melt the butter in your dough, which turns the cookies oily and guarantees they’ll be too tender.
TRICKS #6.a to 6.c (to counter toughness): Our recipe uses so many nuts that fragility tends to be the bigger problem, but sometimes you have to go the opposite way. We ran into this when we lived in Boston and used the high protein King Arthur as our house default. Here are some techniques that will add tenderness without changing the basic formula:
- Remove any extra water or flour from your dough.
- Refrigerate the cookies on their tray for 30 minutes before baking. This will relax any built-up gluten.
- Remove a tablespoon of flour from the recipe.
TRICK #7 (for flavor): It’s a little counterintuitive but this particular cookie actually tastes better if you narrow the “horns” of your crescents toward the ends. Yes, the easiest way to make a crescent is to form the dough into a rope and then bend it in the middle. Yes, that is a typical way to ensure even baking by creating an even thickness. Yes, you can even treat this as a roll-and-cut cookie with fine results. But this isn’t a typical cookie. Having some parts toastier and others tenderer will only add to the sense that you’re eating something made from [nuts!!!].
TRICK #8 (the post-oven danger zone): You must cool these cookies on the tray until they are only warm. They are ridiculously fragile when hot from the oven and will fall apart if you even stare too hard.

TRICK #9 (for a final touch): We aren’t big believers in fancy chancy “touches” like scenting the powdered sugar for a few days with a more-expensive-than-gold vanilla bean bought for the purpose. This is the one recipe where we sometimes make an exception. Not always… but sometimes. There’s something about the wafting smell of vanilla that seems to stimulate a person’s specialized nut detector taste buds. [What, you never heard of those? Try a proper Nut Horn and you’ll see the proof for yourself!]
TRICK #10 (coating with enough powdered sugar): Warm cookies are fragile cookies, but nevertheless you must coat them with the powdered sugar while they are warm because the outgassing steam helps the sugar to stick. Kate likes to move the whole sheet of parchment onto a cooling rack, dust them there, wait 5 minutes, and then turn them over to dust what had been the bottoms.

PUMPKIN PIE SPICED SNICKERDOODLES – The American spice cookie with the American spice mix

Heritage Cookies of the Old and New World contains a whole section on spice cookies, with a long set of recipes for the spice mixes alone. The idea is simple. Find the spice mix you like, acknowledge the regional roots for that combination, and then use the mix willy nilly in refrigerator cookies, snaps, molded cookies, and whatever else you choose to make.

Bing, bang, boom. Simple as can be.

I always forget how good these are until I make them again, and say “Wow.”

America’s signature spice cookie has to be Snickerdoodles, an extremely simple drop cookie made purely with cinnamon. No spice mixes for us! Until the last few decades, that is. Writing in 2021, I can certify that Pumpkin Pie Spice has become an annual harvest event every bit as common as Jack O’Lanterns in the yard. Why fight a good thing? Here is our version of this now-ubiquitous spice blend, along with a variation on our published recipe for Snickerdoodles.

Please Note: We aren’t kidding about the capital-O Opinions that people have on what makes the proper ratio for your spiced sugar coating. Our daughters join me as Even Steven Types. We prefer a 50/50 ratio. Kate, a summa cum laude graduate of the Accent Only School, greatly prefers a 2:1 ratio of sugar to spice. Any more than that leaves bitter notes on her palate. Make a note on your recipe about where you stand.

Enjoy!

Scott and Kate’s Pumpkin Pie Spice Mix

(makes slightly more than ¼ cup = 4⅓ tbsp = 65 ml)

2 tbsp. cinnamon
1 tbsp. ginger (not old)
2 tsp. nutmeg (not old)
1 tsp. ground allspice
1 tsp. ground clove

CHOCOLATE FUDGE COOKIES – ‘Nuff said.

Admission time. There is one treat that I will not study because I don’t want to live with the costs of success. Fudge. Fudge is my bane. I have avoided drugs my entire life because fudge taught the lesson I needed to learn.

No heroin for me, thank you very much. No cocaine. No exotic “baths” with comely and eager triplets. And no fudge. My fear of the f-word is a big part of why Heritage Cookies Of The Old And New World has no section on bar cookies. That would have required me to develop a recipe for brownies. No. Just no.

Enter a certain someone who shall not be named.

“But what about fudge cookies? This isn’t as bright a line as you’re pretending! That high end cookie shop in the mall has this dense, ultimate-chocolate bomb thing? Not a brownie, and not just a double-chocolate chocolate-chip, but something dense, and smooth, and decadent, and… [sigh]. That’s got to be a heritage cookie too, right? They’ve been everywhere since at least the 1970’s.”

Oh. Bloody. Damn. 50 years. That’s long enough to count. And yes, I know the exact cookie that [Unnamed] was talking about. Gauntlet accepted. That’s the cookie we’re about to discuss.

But please. Please! Think twice before you read any further! Will your world really be a better place with a cookie like this inside it? With a recipe for that cookie? Sitting on your shelf or in your computer, biding its time and waiting in ambush like a crocodile in the weeds of your diet? If the answer is “No,” then do us all a favor and turn around now. This is a slippery slope, and once you get started, you’re doomed.

As always, skip to the bottom if you want the recipe without the discussion.

*“Luke. If you only knew the Power of the dark side…”*

Where to begin?

Do me a favor. Go to your favorite search engine and look up “chocolate fudge cookies recipe.” My effort came back with One Hundred Million results in 0.78 seconds. Yours too? Now look a few over. I think you’ll agree that most of the collection is a mess, with way too many are simple riffs off the classic Tollhouse recipe. “Add some cocoa powder, or extra large chunks instead of chips, and you’ll have a whole new treat!!!” Uhhhh, no.

That said, if you dig through enough of them for other approaches, you’ll start to see some standard proportions where better bakers have all ended up.

Cocoa powder in the dry ingredients, plus extra chocolate in the dough;
Butter as the fat; and
For every 4 ounces of fat (one stick of butter), something like 1 cup (5 ounces) of flour, a bit less than 1 cup of sugar (call it 6 ounces), and one whole egg.

That was enough to get started, but I had a few tricks of my own to include in the mix.

We have discovered that made with oil deliver a cleaner chocolate flavor. That needed to be explored. Maybe melted butter? Or ghee?
We like to enhance chocolate flavor with a bit of salt, a healthy hit of vanilla, a subtle addition of coffee flavor, and/or a bit of spice. The last one wouldn’t fit this cookie, but the first three had definite potential (and ended up in the final recipe).
You can create different chocolate effects by adding chocolate flavor in various layers rather than higher volume. Cocoa powder, bloomed cocoa powder, chocolate in melted, grated, chopped, and chunky forms… All of that can significantly alter the result.

Experimental Results

I originally wrote this up as a blow by blow account of every experimental batch, but my lovely editors complained that it ran too long. Way too long. F-word cookies take some work if you want to put out a recipe worthy of the name. So what follows is more of a summary about the collected lessons learned rather than the process I followed.

It took several batches to really nail the balance between butter and oil. I started at 50/50, and even tried a batch made purely with clarified butter (ghee), but ended up with a cookie made from butter enriched with a hit of oil. It was the texture that suffered. Imagine diving off a board, and then finding yourself underwater without that moment of transition. It’s not something you’d think is important, but you notice when it’s missing. That was the effect we got from using pure fat in the dough. It was all parts fudgy inside, with too little surface crunch.

OTOH, regular, creamed butter was just too cookieish. Melted butter found the best compromise between just enough outer crispness combined with an especially fudgy interior. It also saved a few minutes of effort, and… You know what? Why bother with all that chopping when I could just melt the bulk of the chocolate into the dough?

Melting the chocolate! That turned out to be the magic trick that sets this cookie apart. Finally – finally! – the muse in charge of baking decided to spare me a peck on the cheek.

*Hey little dieter. Want a taste? How can a single bite do you any harm?*

The rest of the development process took some time to perfect, but that was more craft than art. The very thing we don’t want to weigh this down with. So here is that promised shortcut list of lessons and observations instead:

Blooming the cocoa powder in hot water or coffee doesn’t add enough flavor to be worth the hassle. Just sift it in with the flour and baking powder.
Different cocoa powders might matter, but we did not do that experiment. We used a good dutched cocoa powder in every version.
Chocolate chips pressed into the top distract from the cookie itself. Don’t bother.
But chocolate pockets in the dough make a nice addition if you get the size right. Go with something larger than standard chocolate chips, but not as big as the commercial chocolate chunks. A little trimming of the chunks achieved my perfect compromise. This is in addition to the melted chocolate (see below).
Use white sugar instead of brown. Chocolate clarity works better in this case than muddying the flavor in the name of complexity. And don’t use too much. Those Internet recipes typically used a full cup of sugar in a recipe this size, but we strongly preferred cutting that back by a full 25%. Closer to 5 ounces than 7.
Do not skip the flavor enhancers, and particularly not salt. It’s a case where your ~~victims~~ [ahem] consumers should end up saying, “Is that a hit of salt I taste? It’s surprising, but I like it!” Kate adored it. The vanilla and coffee should be much more subtle.

At Heart It Is All About The Chocolate

The chocolate you use in this cookie matters more than you’re going to think. I actually found that out by accident.

This effort involved so many batches in this effort that we ended up digging deep into the leftover supplies from other cookies. That meant different batches with different brands of chocolate, and the clear differences from one to the other surprised us all. So much so that I made a special trip to the Strip District for a different high-end chocolate to use in one of the final batches. And yes, it produced a different and correspondingly high-end result.

There is a full quarter-pound of melted chocolate in this dough, and it matters.

Don’t mess around. Just invest in and use a darker chocolate that you genuinely like to eat. But it is not a “darker is better” thing. The cocoa powder adds that extra edge all on its own. This is a case where “better is better.” It really is that simple.

Final Notes

All joking aside, the cookies kept surprisingly well in a tin. Even I hit my chocolate saturation point with this many batches, so they ended up getting snitched one or two per day. Not just by me, I hasten to add, which I know from the mix of compliments and curses that kept coming my way! In any case, the cookies were almost as good on Day 10 as Day 1. The recipe says a week, but that includes some general caution that wasn’t required in my own home.

Don’t try to make these extra large. They are plenty rich enough to deliver all the chocolate you want, and delicate enough to fall apart if you start to get physics and gravity involved. Those crumbs you see in the photos are not a coincidence. Balls of dough with a diameter of 1-1/2″ to 2″ across yield 2-3 bite cookies, which is just what you really want.

For whatever reason – and I haven’t figured it out – these cookies don’t tend to spread anywhere near as much as you’ll think they should. So feel free to pat the pieces down on your tray before baking, and expect to have little mounds of intensely chocolate goodness at the end. 50% spread rather than the normal doubling.

*They keep better than you’d think, and spread a bit less than you’ll expect.*

CONCLUSION

This may be the one cookie I really regret. Not because it falls below our standard. It doesn’t. It’s awesome. The problem lies in feeling like I’ve betrayed your trust.

Our work is to cookies what $80 bottles are to wine. Things that are rare, special, occasionally unique, and meant to be savored by those who appreciate more than just another treat. These? These are high end smack, not wine. Intravenous chocolate injections. Oh, you’ll enjoy the trip. Will you ever! But will you ever forgive me? That’s harder to say.

Enjoy! Just don’t say you haven’t been warned.

MANDELHORNCHEN a/k/a “Almond Horns”

Here’s a recipe that many readers will know because they’re very popular at certain upscale supermarkets. They have a lot going for them, starting with a very pure hit of almond and chocolate (two flavors that love each other), and continuing through the fact that they’re naturally gluten- and dairy-free, which suits a lot of people with allergy problems. They’re also very generous and fairly dense, which means that anyone who’s willing to eat baked goods for breakfast can get by with 2-3 “cookies” and a nice cup of Joe. (A meal that Scott has admittedly enjoyed as he writes this article).

The other benefit? Almond Horns are incredibly easy to make. The basic recipe couldn’t be simpler: (1) put everything in a food processor; (2) grind until it’s smooth and begins to ball up; (3) roll each piece in almond flakes; (4) bake; and (5) coat the horns or bottom with chocolate. The issues come up with the little details that avoid problems in each of those steps.

As always, please skip to the bottom if you are only here for the recipe.

Step 1 – Choices About Ingredients

Classic European recipes typically start from Marzipan rather than working from scratch. Take Marzipan, blend with egg white(s) to loosen it up, and you’re basically there. Convenience cookies!

Marzipan isn’t as common in the U.S., costs more, and the different brands vary in their dedication to the cult of sugar and the abuse of almond extract. We’re also a nation of people who take food processors for granted. That tool converts Marzipan from a painstaking process into a walk in the park. If cooking from scratch is cheaper, just as easy, more reliable, easier to customize, and lets you use a little less sugar… well, cook from scratch.

We recommend that you start from almond meal because it’s become easy to obtain and ensures an even result. In the ideal world you’d start from whole or slivered almonds, toast them to enhance the natural flavor, and then reduce that to meal during the grinding stage. It’s really up to you. But from one obsessive purist to another? We just get the almond meal. There’s so much extract that the toasted flavors get lost anyway.

Step 2 – Grind It All Together

No kidding. That’s all you do. Put everything in the machine except your coatings (toasted almond flakes and chocolate). Process, scraping down the sides from time to time, until it comes together into a smooth dough that balls up around the blade. Done.

That couldn’t be any easier, but there are a couple of tricks because the dough changes with (a) your kitchen’s level of humidity, and (b) whether your Size Large egg whites are closer to mediums or closer to XL’s. They do vary within each range you know. It isn’t a problem if you keep the target in mind: “Dough that is just sticky enough to hold on to toasted almond flakes.” Too sticky and it will be hard to work with. Not sticky enough, and your coating will fall off.

If the mixture seems too dry, add in a tablespoon or two of water. This happens every time in a Pittsburgh winter, and almost never in our summers.
If the mixture seems too sticky, add a tablespoon or two of extra almond meal. Extra sugar works too.

For what it’s worth, we actually get a kick out of these little customizing steps. They make you feel like a Real Expert who knows the secret cheat codes.

Step 3 – Form the Cookies

A few of those secret codes make this step just as easy.

First, remember that most people make these into large, 4-5 bite treats. One recipe makes enough for 16.

That’s not a coincidental number because you get there by cutting the dough in half, then each half in half four more times. If you want smaller cookies, cut the initial piece into thirds and then proceed to halve them over and over. This will get you to 24.

Second, moisten your fingers and palms before you form each cookie. That will keep the dough from sticking to your hands, and also make the surface extra sticky for holding on to the almond flakes.

Better for you, and better for the cookies. You’ll need to wet your hands several times before all the pieces are done.

Third, form each dough piece into a short, fat sausage as thick as you want the middle of your cookie to be. Roll this cylinder in the toasted almond flakes, and then pinch/curve the ends to form your crescents.

Cylinders are much easier to work with at the rolling stage, and you do not need as many almonds on the ends anyway because they will get coated in chocolate. Yes, you can just make a longer, thinner sausage, roll that, and bend it into a “C”. And yes, it is a little easier. We prefer the result from crescents; they have a texture that changes as you nibble through each treat.

Step 4 – Bake

375° is just hot enough to get a few of the almond edges extra toasty. A nice touch. As always, you want to pay more attention to the aroma and texture than the actual time. They are done when the sides firm up and the bottoms have turned light tan. It’s taken a consistent 13-14 minutes during winter testing in Pittsburgh with our oven. Please let us know if your results vary.

We also encourage you to spin these trays halfway through to ensure even cooking. We usually don’t bother with that step unless we’re dealing with wafers, but for some reason this particular cookie has been sensitive to hot spots.

Step 5 – Coat The Ends With Chocolate

This is the one step in the recipe that creates some frustration. It comes from two problems. First, the chocolate will harden as you work. And second, you won’t have enough chocolate in your bowl to dip the ends when you get to the final few pieces.

You can solve the chocolate problem by either keeping it warm, or mixing in a small amount of fat. Scott prefers to use plain chocolate, and to keep zapping it in the microwave for very short bursts as needed. Kate, who did most of the chocolate work, suggests adulteration – with the proviso that you must use a fat hardens at room temperature. Coconut oil works but can add some flavor. Palm oil has the perfect characteristics but is evil. She recommends butter or shortening, whisked into carefully melted chocolate. The resulting chocolate dip can be extra sticky at room temperature and takes a while to harden, but it is easy to work with. Your mileage may vary.

The problem of what to do toward the end takes more thought, and there is no really good answer. If you want the chocolate supply to end on the final cookie, you won’t have a deep enough pool to actually dip the horns of the last two pieces. Careful work with a spoon can help, but it only goes so far. Either you need to make/waste extra chocolate dip, or you need a cheat code.

Scott offers this workaround: Don’t try to dip the horns on your final piece. Coat the entire bottom with your leftover chocolate instead. It creates a more uniform treat that’s a little less intriguing to look at, and has less contrast when you eat it, but it does have the benefit of giving every bite a little bit of chocolate. Brush all the bottoms with chocolate if you want every piece to be the same.

Kate rolls her eyes at that, and says you should simply make enough chocolate to do the dipping and be done with it. Leftover chocolate makes a wonderful ganache for truffles, or at worst a special treat for the first lucky passerby who can find a spoon. You, of course, are a mature, fully grown person with the control to inflict those treats on someone else.

Cool and Consume – The End… Until Next Time

Mandelhörnchen are one of those treats that become a baker’s signature offering to guests, grandchildren, and drama club bake sales alike. They’re so very big! Physically, in taste, in texture, and in ways that combine to be more than the sum of their parts. They also show off familiar flavors, and they taste exactly like people think they will, except more so. There’s a huge bang for the buck factor.

Plus they’re fun and easy to make once you internalize those little tricks: keep your hands moist when shaping, and accept that there’s only so much chocolate to go around.

This is a marvelous recipe that you’re really going to treasure. We Promise. Enjoy!

SOUR CREAM MOLASSES SPICE COOKIES – How Could Anyone Forget?

Most of the cookies that Americans would consider ‘obvious’ and ‘normal’ made their way into the original Heritage Cookies of the Old and New World. We are, after all, Americans. That is our world view, like it or not, so the things that have become traditional for the U.S. qualify by definition. But every so often you hit one of those “Doh!” moments when you’re reminded of a recipe everyone knows, that somehow slipped through all nets to lie there waiting for Volume II.

Case in point: Sour Cream Molasses Spice Cookies.

The moment happened in this case when a Facebook friend published an odd version of Speculaas – the great Dutch molded cookie – that included sour cream in the dough. Sour cream is a uniquely American ingredient, created in the U.S. as a version of Europe’s crème fraiche that could be produced on an industrial scale. She wrote that the recipe came from family friends who presumably brought the recipe back to Europe after visiting the States; reverse immigration at its best!

We’ll probably work up a version of that recipe for some future article, but the important thing here was Scott’s reaction: “Oh, I know where that comes from; this is that soft molasses spice cookie we had growing up… DOH!!”

There’s really not much more to say. This is a cookie you knew as a child; as warm, comforting, and familiar as Grandma’s lap. It’s a classic American drop cookie, made extra tender and pillowy by the addition of a little sour cream, and interesting by the addition of some sweet gingerbread spices. Bing, bang, boom: done. They really are just that easy.

There are only two notes we’d like to emphasize before closing. First, please customize these by using your favorite spice mix. We went with our Speculaas mix for the recipe in deference and thanks to Hayden for bringing the memory back to life, but the cookie will work just as well with anything that suits your particular, mood, taste, and spice cabinet. Pumpkin pie spice; classic. Apple pie spice; classic. Your mother’s gingerbread mix; classic. Just make it balanced, and maybe weighted a little bit toward the cinnamon since this is, after all, an American cookie and we are obsessed by that particular spice in our baking.

Second, have a source ready to receive your largess because these things won’t last in the house. They are high powered, superconducting hand magnets, and once the cookie reaches your fingers, you know where it is going to end up. On the plus side, this is also a perfect way to get the children in your life started on a lifelong enjoyment of the wonderful world of spiced breads, cakes, and other treats. And to teach them basic courtesy. “Please” and “thank you” are easy concepts to learn when there are cookies in the jar.

Enjoy!

SPICED BACON COOKIES – Not so strange after all!

Dairy free and delicious, what’s not to like? This cookie offers a unique flavor profile with a familiar texture somewhere in the slice-and-bake or sugar cookie range. The only unusual part is that title ingredient, and it’s hard to say if that’s really as unusual as people might think.

As always, skip to the bottom if you only want the recipe.

EXTRA SPICE FROM KATE: Okay, hold the phone a sec. My husband’s version of “health consciousness” can sometimes cross that invisible line into “health denial”. Before he continues with his ode to pork, we want to point out that butter, lard, shortening, and all other saturated fats – even bacon [gasp!] – are not good for you. That is why cookies are a treat, not a staple. No, bacon fat is not really any worse than any of those others. Granted. And he’s 100% right that using it in a cookie is “heritage”, not “weird.” But keep the enthusiasm within bounds. This is not a physics-optional cartoon. You may proceed now.

Animal fat cookies are rare in the U.S. for sure, but that is only because we tend to be wastrels and spendthrifts when it comes to leftover fats and drippings. Americans are taught to reach for purified, store-bought fats like butter, shortening, or oil when we cook. But that isn’t how things used to be, and it still isn’t true in professional kitchens, or in any part of the world where people pinch their pennies a little harder. In all those situations the leftover fat, such as drippings from a roast, are treasures to be saved, not waste to be discarded.

That isn’t to say we are holier than thou. Here is our standard method for cooking a few slices of bacon for breakfast: place some slices between several layers of paper towel, put it on a plate, and then microwave for 3-5 minutes until it gets as crispy as you desire. Discard the dirty paper with all that nasty fat.

What could be better? Well… how about not wasting all that fat, which qualifies as “delicious” rather than “nasty” in any other time and place the world has ever known? Sorry to sound all rant-y. We really do use that paper towel trick, and it really does work. But it is sort of embarrassing when you consider the historical perspective.

Try this method instead if you have any plans to use the fat: Place your slices on a rack over a sheet pan (spiced as you desire) and then cook at 375° for 15-25 minutes, depending on thickness. Remove it from the oven when it hits the level of crispy you want. Flip it over with tongs to let any pooled fat drain into the pan, give it a minute, and then dab off any excess with paper towels. Super easy, super reliable, and nothing wasted. Use 350° for chewier bacon and 400° if you like more char and you’re willing to tolerate the smaller safety window before it burns.

FWIW, this recipe calls for ½ cup of fat, which is almost exactly what you ought to get from rendering a pound (16 oz = 450 g) of bacon. A perfect and thrifty method for whenever you cook large amounts of the Mighty Meat.

Comparison Recipes

Lard (pork fat) has to be the most common cooking fat after butter, shortening, and oil. U.S. bakers adore it for pie crusts and biscuits, but lard is also a common cookie ingredient; particularly in Spain and its colonies. Bizcochitos, the official state cookie of New Mexico, are the best known variation (see Heritage Cookies Volume I for a recipe). Spanish Mantecados are a more tender example, with less flour and a little olive oil added to create a shortbread effect. Look for it in a future blog post.

Bacon fat is nothing more than lard with extra flavor, if you look at it sideways. We’ve found many more savory recipes than sweet ones in the world of baking. There is a German side dish called Speckkuchen (“Bacon Cakes”) that’s definitely worth your attention if this interests you. But this article is about the sweet-treat, cookie versions and they are far from unknown.

Tricks From The Testing

This turned out to be a pretty easy recipe to perfect because the U.S. went through a bacon craze in the early 2000’s that hasn’t quite ended yet. People put bacon into everything! And it kept working, and working, and working again. As we write this in 2021 there’s still a common catchphrase that, “Bacon makes anything better.” Okay, that probably isn’t true in the literal sense. Spend some skull sweat and you’ll probably come up with a few exceptions. But the basic point stands: savory, sweet, smoky bacon goes very well with many, many flavors.

We chose a classic Christmas Ham profile for this recipe, using cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and molasses. Feel free to substitute any spice combination you prefer. Just think of it as something to go with bacon rather than something meant for a cookie. Scott is halfway toward eager in his plans to make an extra-smoky version the next time we have a big, multifamily brunch to cook for.

The cookie itself was just as easy. The proportions fell dead center into the classic sugar cookie and drop cookie range. All those charts in the book before each section? This is where they come in handy.

The only complication came with narrowing things down to the final version. The two of us went back and forth on whether the cookie wanted a bit of crispy texture inside. Translation: should we add in some of the bacon we had lying around from rendering the required fat? In the end we left that as an option. Somewhere around two slices (≈ 2 tbsp. when chopped) is the right amount if you have any extra.

But it still wanted… something. That turned out to be bits of dark chocolate.

You’re in good company if that sounds wrong. Kate almost blanched at the idea, and Scott has to agree that chocolate-dipped bacon was one of the less appealing excesses of that bacon-with-everything craze we described above. But this is the exception that proves the rule. The chocolate sort of widened the flavor, while the textural contrast rounded things out.

CONCLUSION

Bacon tastes good. Everyone agrees on that, and we waste never a crumb.

Bacon fat also tastes good. Everyone agrees there as well, but we waste it all the time. There’s no good reason to do so, and people never did until we grew wealthy enough to value convenience over thrift and flavor. This is just one example of the many, many ways in which you can use this overlooked treasure to make treats that will make you sound like a genius. We’ve seen, tasted, and enjoyed Bacon Ice Cream! If that can work, and we assure you it does, then cookies should be taken in stride.

Enjoy! Here’s the recipe:

MARZIPAN & ALMOND PASTE – the recipe beneath the recipes

Many thanks to Pixabay.com for sharing this royalty-free image. Cuuuute!

A few weeks ago we put up recipes for a set of Five macaroon recipes we’ve come to love – which could be described as marzipan suspended in an egg white meringue. And I am now working busily on a special Croatian treat called “Rafioli”, which is basically an exotically flavored almond paste wrapped inside a baked pasta shell. [Watch for it!]

German Mandelhörnchen and a Greek equivalent are also on our “to do” list after Kate took an initial whack that wasn’t too far from being right. Those amount to a flavored marzipan or almond paste lightened with fewer egg whites than you’d use for macaroons, formed into crescents, and then dipped in chocolate.

EXTRA SPICE FROM KATE: We have no photos of the Mandelhörnchen because a mysterious cookie gremlin raided our kitchen before anyone could add the chocolate part. Skeptical spouses have wondered if “doppelganger” would be a more accurate than “gremlin,” but I admit nothing. He only suggests such an outrageous thing because they are one of my all time favorites, both tasty and toothsome.

And then… Hmm, a pattern seems to have formed! There are dozens, if not hundreds of baked goods that start with a base of finely ground almonds, mixed with sugar and then bound by egg whites. That ingredient is called “Almond Paste” when left loose and a little sticky, or “Marzipan” when you add enough extra almonds to make it solid. We wouldn’t call either one a “cookie” all on its own. Commercial marzipan is actually marketed more like a not-so-sweet candy (with U.S. and English versions tending to be sweeter), and almond paste as an ingredient. But the basic concept gets used in so many true cookies, and cookie fillings, that it’s only fair to give our version.

Besides, Valentines Day is coming next month and you can earn some major brownie points by making Marzipan treats and forming them into something romantic. And double-besides, the recipe for Marzipan contains a couple of surprises that many people don’t know about, such as a tiny bit of rosewater used as everyone’s not-so-secret ingredient.

Anyway, here is our version for your education, edification, and delight.

This lovely photo of Marzipan Fruits at the Nuremberg Christmas Market is available under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share alike 2.0 Generic license at the linked website. Many thanks to the author for his or her generosity.

PANFORTE – Sometimes you get it right

Our adventure with this extraordinary cookie began in 2019 when I met an old friend in the local supermarket – a former partner at the firm I joined out of law school. He had a cart full of baking supplies, I had just finished the initial version of our book, and Christmas was in the wind, so you can guess what happened next. I asked a question, he enthused, and we ended up in a discussion about family baking traditions. Who knew that Tom had a reputation going back for decades as the Great Baker of his circle? Birthday cakes, holiday cookies, even the occasional wedding table… just like us.

Tom gave the credit for his skill and passion to his Italian mother and grandmother. And he absolutely *loved* our cookbook project! “That reminds me of the one cookie I never managed to learn,” he said. “I don’t even know the name. It was black, dense, diamond shaped, and filled with chocolate, fruits, and nuts. Never any other shape. I wish I knew what it was.”

You know what? I did. Sort of.

As always, skip to the bottom if you only want the recipe. Most of what follows is the winding process of how we got there, and the tricks we learned along the way.

It Had To Be A Waybread a/k/a Winter Cake

We used to follow a public radio program called The Splendid Table, hosted by a scholar of Italian cooking traditions named Lynn Rosetto Kasper. She had done a segment on something she called “winter cakes;” meal-sized Italian equivalents of what we call “waybreads” in our book. It’s a category populated by dense, ancient treats that your great-to-the-Nth ancestors prepared at two different times: (A) during the holidays, to enjoy in slivers all the way through April, or (B) for a loved one to take on some extended journey. The common denominator? Winter cakes (waybreads) last basically forever from a practical point of view, being packed with so much sweetness, dried fruits, nuts, and often booze that they won’t go stale.

The old English version is fruitcake, inherited into the U.S. tradition with a great deal of snickering and jokes. But other versions abound across Europe, and I knew this had to be one of them. The diamonds gave it away.

I know from earlier research that American immigrants often adapted their traditional waybreads to the new world by using a standard U.S. sheet pan in place of the specialty cake pans they’d left behind. Cut the sheet-waybread into cookie-sized pieces with a vertical line in one direction and a diagonal in the other, and voila! Diamonds, which are much prettier than little squares, much more “American” than big cake shapes, and have the added bonus of creating a series of little triangles by the edges for the cook and her helpers to “test the bake.”

SIDEBAR: Cookie bits have no calories if you’re nibbling for practical reasons like testing! Everyone knows that, right? Ask your own Baba or Nana or Grandma if you doubt me. Most of them will admit it, and the ones who don’t will huff up in that particular way that lets you know the truth.

So here’s the bottom line. This was some kind of ancient waybread or winter cake. It probably came from Italy, given Tom’s heritage. It was dark to the point of being black. It was heavy and probably unleavened. And the primary ingredients were a mix of various nuts, several fruits, and a solid hit of chocolate.

Which Waybread Was It?

Off to the Internet I went and it wasn’t long before my search returned a long series of hits for something called Panforte; a specialty of the ancient Italian city of Siena, in Tuscany, about an hour by car to the south of Florence. It hit on every category, even down to a series of American photos showing thin, cookie-sized diamonds.

Bullseye!

Our now-familiar development procedure followed after that. First I compiled as many recipes as I could to get a good feel for the variations and the flavor profile. Panforte is pretty common, so I had well over a dozen to choose from.

This research confirmed the mix-of-nuts approach Tom had described, with almonds and hazelnuts being the most common. I balanced the fruit flavors in my head, adding dried apricots as a potential substitute for the surprising presence of candied pineapple in so many recipes. I rejected citron – the bane of fruitcake eaters everywhere! – for the equally common and much better tasting candied orange peel. All pretty standard. Alter as you wish.

The sweetener in the recipe turned out to be a mix of honey cooked together with sugar. No surprise there! One of the best waybreads in Volume I is called Leckerli, a sheet pan cookie centered on walnuts. Northern Italy and Switzerland aren’t that far apart, so it came as no surprise to see parallels in their cookies.ƒ

Next came the spices. These varied hugely, as you might expect. I sifted through a dozen variations and then settled on something more or less in the middle with two minor variations – chili powder and cardamom. Neither was unknown, so this wasn’t a true heresy, but neither were they common. Still, the combination made sense in my head, and offered a side benefit. They gave the flavor profile a little twist compared to all our other recipes. Again, modify as you desire.

Time For Attempt #1, And… Wow.

Mega wow. Ridiculously absurd, over the top, odes-to-the-cookie-gods wow. These darned things were awesome! We almost couldn’t believe it. Were all Panforte this good?

Aye, there’s the rub.

Kate and I can tell good from bad easily enough. And these were certainly good. But how could we tell if they were “right”? Neither of us comes from an Italian background. We had no internal target to aim for.

This, my friends, called for a trip to the Strip District.

Always Find Native Testers

The Strip is a narrow piece of land in Pittsburgh about 2-3 blocks wide and 6-8 blocks long, located just up the Allegheny River from the Downtown triangle where the Al and the Mon meet to form the O. It’s been our favorite part of the city since we moved here because the two main drags (Penn Ave. and Smallman) are lined with wholesale/retail ethnic stores. These include a number of different Italian places with histories going back close to 100 years, and a veritable bevy of first generation immigrants. Just the people to test our new cookie!

First up: Giuseppe at Penn Mac a/k/a the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company. This is our go-to stop for nuts, dried fruit, and other staples, and we bring them a tin every year.

“Giuseppe, we know these are good. That’s obvious. But are they Right? We need someone from the Old Country to give a reality check. Would you mind?”

No, not at all. He took a bite… and then looked at us like we we’d left our brains in the street. “You think there’s something wrong with these? They could be straight from Italia! They’re perfect! Just let me have a couple more pieces before you go… [munch, mumble, mumble, munch].”

Wait a sec. That never happens. Not ever! I had to visit the Strip three different times when I was working up South America’s famous Alfajores, and those are a simple, childhood shortbread. Maybe Giuseppe was just being kind.

No problem. There are other Italian stores in the Strip. On to Enrico’s Biscotti, whose owner, Larry, teaches traditional Italian baking to full houses several times per year. He’s a generous man with both his goods and his knowledge, but also one who believes in sharing the hard truths too.

“They’re perfect! What are you worried about? I especially like that little hint of heat at the end. And that floral note. It’s fantastic [munch, mumble, mumble, munch].”

Chili powder and cardamom: check. Let’s try Colangelo’s around the corner, another wonderful Italian bakery/restaurant.

“You could sell these anywhere in Italy and they’d call them Panforte. And believe me, they’d buy them, too! [munch, mumble, mumble, munch].”

The pattern continues! Sunseri Brothers? Ditto. And on it went, up and down the Strip. The answer was always the same. These weren’t just authentic Panforte, they were among the best Panforte that anyone had ever tasted. Stop worrying. Start bragging. And don’t mess with success. [Munch, mumble, mumble, munch].

Conclusion

I heard back from Tom about a week later.

“You got it! You nailed it! After all these years it’s just like sitting in my mother’s kitchen again.”

I love cookies.

NOTE: You can convert this to the traditional Italian winter cake with a few easy adaptations:

First, bake it in a tall cake pan instead of a sheet pan.
Second, sandwich the result between special wafers you can buy online.
Third, feed the cake version with brandy over time just as people do with fruitcakes; a thin brushing once per week for a month or two.
And FWIW… We also found an online note suggesting that Tom’s great-to-the-Nth-Nana would have stored her Panforte in chestnut leaves back in the day. How cool is that?

Panforte cakes should be served it in slivers (not slices) as a special treat to enjoy all the way into early Spring. A little goes a long way.

BUTTER JELLIES, SPITZBUBEN, & MAILANDERLI – The one that everyone loves

When you make as many high quality cookies as we do, you get used to a couple of standard questions. The top two have to be, “What are your favorite cookies?” and “What is the favorite cookie overall?” The answer always disappoints: there are no real, statistical favorites because individual tastes end up dominating. But one thing we can say for sure is this:

People adore filled cookies.

There’s just something very “extra” about treats inside a treat. And that’s extra “extra” for Butter Jellies, because the jam in the middle (a) makes them spectacularly pretty, and (b) adds a series of bright berry flavors that cannot be baked into a dough. Yes, you can now find freeze dried berries in a lot of supermarkets. And yes, they add a bit of true berry flavor into your dough that people can taste even through all the butter and other ingredients. But it isn’t the same because the full berry flavor includes a lot of things that don’t come through, such as all the bright high notes.

Those require either an icing or, as in this case, a filling. The combination of tart/sweet jam and buttery cookie is irresistible. If these aren’t the #1 favorite on our annual tray, they probably count in the top three for a vast majority.

It’s really a simple cookie. Butter Jellies and their variations are a basic, roll-and-cut, shortbread/butter cookie with just enough flour to hold together for a few days after they’re sandwiched around liquidy jam. The variations are subtle, and amount to either more egg yolks (Grandma Kandler’s version, which is known in Switzerland as star shaped Mailanderli), or the use of egg whites instead of yolks for a drier mouthfeel (Swiss Spitzbuben). What about whole eggs? We tested it of course, and they work fine from the sturdiness point of view, but we ended up preferring either the rich chew of yolks alone or the dry counterpoint from using only whites. Your mileage may vary.

The jam is up to you. We used to adore rose hip jam, but it became unavailable 5-10 years ago. Nowadays it’s currant jam or blackberry because we reserve raspberry for Linzer Tarts.

And no! These are not Linzer Tarts! That is a name that comes from a classic, pie-sized Austrian Torte made from a fragrant hazelnut/lemon piecrust. No nuts, no Linzer. Thus Sayeth The Lord! So do not blaspheme. These are Butter Jellies.

Make Linzers too. That’s our solution, and if it’s good enough for our family, it’s good enough for yours!

BONUS FREEBIE! To convert Grandma’s version into true Mailanderli:

Use 3-4 yolks in the dough.
Increase the amount of lemon zest to a full 1-1/2 tsp.
Increase the amount of vanilla to a full 1-1/2 tsp.
Cut the dough into stars
Coat the top before baking with an egg wash made from 1 whole egg thinned with a bit of water.

You can follow Grandma’s cooking technique but we’ve had equal success with a constant 325.° Either way, they will want to cook longer because of the lower temperature. 20-25 minutes should be about right.

MOLDED GINGERBREAD – How about a special treat?

Greetings from Kate!

One of my favorite bakes is gingerbread, and I especially like the way it comes out of the mold. I know that Scott gave you got a molded cookie in a recent blog, but we tend to start with the hardest ones first. We also start our baking with cookies that need to sit for a while and soften naturally.

Behold the soft plentitude of molasses and spices! The glaze is optional – I like to mix rum or brandy with powdered sugar until it’s thin enough to paint on with a soft, clean paintbrush.

These beauties are raw, the way they come out of the carved wooden mold. Their features dull a little upon baking, but the glaze will bring them back out. Stay tuned for more images later.

[Two Tricks From Scott:

For finer features, replace the baking soda in your recipe with Hartshorn a/k/a baker’s ammonia a/k/a ammonium carbonate a/k/a smelling salts. This 19th-century leavener creates smaller, more even bubbles that in turn create a finer, better refined texture.
Leave the formed cookies out to dry overnight, preferably in the fridge or under a fan. This will create a surface that’s just a little firmer than the bottoms that were resting on your parchment or tray. When the cookies rise during baking, Boyle’s Law says they will tend to have that surface rise up instead of spreading out with the moister, underneath part of the dough.

These are the two main tricks that allow for the creation of super-fine features on Springerle, the smooth caps on Macarons, and all the other cookies that feature a “foot” on the bottom..

And now I’m off to order our special, “we’re releasing our cookbook” tins! We’re not scouring local dollar stores this time. I want all the tins to have a nice, streamlined design and a custom-made label that will echo the branding of the cookbook cover – something I hope to show you next week.

Till then, happy baking!

~Kate