Holiday Goodies

The other day my mother asked me, “Of all the things you cook, which one do you love the best?” I replied, “Dessert! All kinds. English trifles. French tarts. Cakes, cupcakes, and cookies.” It was a set up. She smiled and asked with a tilted head, “Cookies?! What kind?!”

So I made her some cookies. She sat and watched me as I played with a recipe, offering suggestions and licking the bowl. Her dog, Maggie, sat on her lap hoping for something to drop.

I made a cookie with an overdose of espresso powder and a subtle amount of finely chopped pecans and I learned so much from it.

First of all, that I absolutely love this recipe and how it turned out.

1.            To fall in love with someone great.

2.            To fall out of love with someone that isn't great.

3.            To read one entire book.

4.            To write one screenplay.

5.            To run 5 miles (in a row).

6.            To learn how to bake without sugar.

7.            To be nicer to my mom.

8.            To learn how to do laundry (but only if my mom does, too).

9.            To drink more coffee.

These have to be one of the quintessential Christmas cookies. They are known by many names but Mexican Wedding Cookie seems to be the most common.

There are several variations of this cookie in many countries – Biscochitos in Mexico (always made with lard), Kourabiedes in Greece, Polvorones in Italy and Spain making them a universal holiday cookie treat. It’s important to use the highest quality butter when making these melt-in-your-mouth morsels.

Mexican Wedding Cookie

2 cups whole pecans or walnuts
2 cups bleached all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon table salt
1/2 pound unsalted butter (2 sticks), softened (preferably Plugra)
1/3 cup superfine sugar
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
1½ cups confectioners' sugar for rolling cooled cookies

The American media warns us at every turn that Christmas is a time of over-indulgence. Women’s magazines sprout articles about how to avoid the buffet table, not to mention an extra ten pounds. Readers flip quickly past that article to the one depicting how to decorate a sugar cookie.

Honestly, that cattle call to temptation has never bothered me all that much. My university’s English department parties tend to offer a lively selection of cheap wine, together with three different kinds of hummus. Besides, I shed calories wrestling a five-foot tree into submission, grading final papers for my Shakespeare students, and fighting my way to Fed Ex to mail late presents.

But this year my husband and I are on sabbatical from our respective universities, so we packed up loads of books, two children and four laptops, and moved to Paris. We have a rangy apartment in the 9th arrondissement, with floors dating to the 1760s, four patisseries within a block or two, and a covered market just over the border in the 10th.