The other day I was seduced at Costco by a giant bag of foil-wrapped Easter eggs. Who among us has not been swayed by giant bags of chocolate at Costco? I am not made of stone, people.
I just love the term "icebox cookies." It's so quaint, isn't it? When I think about them, I feel like I'm being transported back in time - like I'm actually baking in my kitchen wearing pumps, a frilly apron over my crinoline-lined skirt, and pearls. Oooh, this dough is too soft to use. I know! I'll put it in the icebox! Maybe one day my ship will come in and I'll be able to buy one of those new-fangled electrical refrigerator units.
Have you ever had great expectations for a recipe, and then had those expectations dashed dramatically? That happened to me the other day when I set out to make these cookies. I had an image in my head of what they should look like, and the resulting cookie was, visually speaking, dramatically opposite to what I had set out to make. In fact, these cookies - while delectable and fudgy - were possibly the ugliest cookies I had ever made. They were so unappealing in appearance, that I briefly wondered if I should start a "Cookie Wrecks" site.
Some things are meant to be together: peas and carrots, salsa and tortilla chips, Harry and Sally. But my favourite pair of all is mint and chocolate. I want to hug the person who first thought of mixing together mint and chocolate; that person is a genius who has done much for humankind.
Forget the mom wars, I'm more interested in the cookie wars. I am a die-hard chewy cookie person—I purposefully under bake my cookies just the teensiest bit, so that they are soft and chewy in the centre.
There is one cookie recipe I make without fail every year around the holidays, and that is my grandma's recipe for gingersnaps. I make these delectable cookies annually, for a few reasons: a) I love filling the house with the cozy and warm smell of ginger and molasses on a dark, wintry afternoon, b) gingersnaps seem like a cookie for the festive season, a perfect accompaniment to hot cocoa after a day of sledding or snowman making, and c) these cookies are like crack. They are so addictive that if I made them oftener, I would not be able to fit into any of my clothes.
When Simon and Schuster sent me an advance copy of Heather Bertinetti's "Bake It, Don't Fake It" to review, I was intrigued. After all, baking is something I love to do, and Bertinetti was named one of New York's "30 Under 30" in 2011 — a talented pastry chef who has found much success in a number of highly acclaimed Manhattan restaurants.
