What I AM talking about is that multi-generational xerox copy of Rebecca's favorite pie crust, that clipping all about summer tomato dishes from an August issue of the New York Times, the e-mail from Justin with his Spritzgebaeck recipe, pages torn from years worth of Martha Stewart Living, and the little 3x5 cards received from Ma Hunter, C'pher's Auntie K, and my own mom. And then there are laser-printed recipes from King Arthur Flour and the Food Network websites, and from baking and cooking blogs that seem to have no limit.
They are unorganized. They are piled in boxes. They are tattered and untested. AND I MUST KEEP THEM ALL!
I say this because, despite the cautionary tale that the amazing A&E TV show Hoarders represents, I do occasionally dip into the file and, as they say, pick a winner. Case in point: Brown-Butter Spoon Cookies, best described as two sablé-style butter cookies with a layer of thick jam between. Co-worker Lyle came to me with a photocopy of a recipe from a 2005 issue of the late, lamented Gourmet, saying that he had had these cookies and thought of me and please wouldn't I try to make them some time please please please.
The story accompanying the recipe was all about writer Celia Barbour's annual struggle to get through the apparently arduous task of mixing, baking and assembling endless amounts of these unbelievably delicious cookies. Now I'm sure she likely made way more than I have at one time (at least I think so), but in the piece, she seemed to treat the whole process as fantastic drudgery. I picture her, face hanging, hair limp, sighing as she slaps two more half-domes together with jam and tosses them unceremoniously into a plastic baggie with two others. Gee, thanks. You shouldn't have.
I can assure you that, unlike Ms. Barbour, I have enjoyed most every moment of making batch after batch of these since I re-discovered them last Christmas. Browning butter is a frightening process, as you can easily go from wonder to worthlessness in the space of a blink. For some reason, though, I seem to have somewhat mastered it, and have turned out flecked, nut-brown, melted gold time after time.
I do have to take exception with her methodology in forming the cookies. To wit:
"Press a piece of dough into bowl of teaspoon, flattening top, then slide out and place, flat side down, on an ungreased baking sheet. (Dough will feel crumbly, but will become cohesive when pressed.)"
Maybe she's got some kind of magically deep teaspoon or something, but this process has outright failed with literally every spoon I try it with. They either crumble so much they don't even resemble a spoon shape anymore (which makes the name she uses -- Spoon Cookies -- a little beside the point), or if they do come out, they are so small as to be insignificant -- they'd be overcome by the filling.
Facing these grim facts last year, and with Timm Gunn's signature advice ringing in my head, I resolved to "make it work." I turned to my trusty cookie scoops! The one Tablespoon size seemed somehow too small, so I went with the 2 Tbsp size. Now after sitting as the recipe calls for, this dough can get very very stiff. Remember the crumbliness? It happens when you scoop the dough out of the bowl, too. Last year, I bent the scraping mechanism on the cookie scoop pretty badly... and this year it broke entirely. And this was one of the fancy expensive ones, too! In light of this, I would still recommend a cookie scoop, as it really did spill the dough out in a good shape, keeping them mostly round. If you do not have or do not wish to risk your own fancy expensive cookie scoop with this deadly dough ball, use the well of a deepish measuring spoon. You'll really have to pack it in, and push on one side to slip it out, but you'll work out your own system. As she says, just press them back together and most of the imperfections with puff away when they bake.
Because of the unique filling, and because of decided deficiency of spoon-use in the making or shaping of these cookies, I thought it best to re-name them Brown Butter "Chestnuts." The quotation marks are there to assure those with nut allergies that, without the chestnut paste, these delights can contain no nuts whatsoever.
So let this be a lesson: even people that see baking as an unwanted chore ranked up there with re-grouting the bathroom tile can have a great recipe for you to copy, clip, save, lose, find again years later, try, and eventually love.
BROWN BUTTER "CHESTNUTS"
These are the cookies your mother warned you about. They are deceptively simple and yet just complicated enough that you will feel a real sense of accomplishment when they are finally done. Browning butter can be tricky... reading up on it, following the directions here closely, and/or watching a video on-line about what to look for might be helpful. Even giving yourself a trial run is a great idea. And have some extra butter on hand, just in case.Chestnut paste (I used Bonne Maman) can be found in specialty stores with all the fancy-schmancy jams, preserves, and jellies. I used most of my 13 oz. jar when I made my single batch, and I put about 2 tsp of paste on each cookie. If you want to use fruit preserves, you'll want to have about 1/3 cup; heat it in small saucepan until it turns runny, then run it through a sieve into a small bowl, really pressing on any solids. Let it cool completely and re-thicken before putting it on the cookies. The author prefers half cherry and half strawberry preserves, but I'm honestly having a hard time thinking of some jam, paste or thick sauce that wouldn't taste great with these. Marmite, maybe? I'd avoid Marmite.It pays to make these cookies days ahead of time. They are good the first day, great the third day, and late than that they become, in the words of Celia Barbour "transcendent." They keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 weeks. Just try to make them last that long...
- Special equipment: A 2 tsp to 2 Tbsp sturdy cookie scoop, or a deep-bowled teaspoon*, and a heat-proof spatula.
Make dough:
Whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl and set aside. Fill your kitchen sink or a shallow basin with about 2 inches of cold water, and a few ice cubes to keep it chilled while you work, as the whole process will likely take about 10-12 mintues.Melt butter in a 2- to 3-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat and cook, stirring occasionally with your heat-proof spatula.The butter will initially produce some foam, which will then dissipate. After this point, you want to stay with the pan and not walk away even for a moment.You will know the butter is about to "brown" when a much thicker foam appears and covers the surface. Keep stirring! If you are able to, stir the foam away and see watch the milk solids in the butter turn a caramel brown. If you cannot stir the foam aside, use your spatula to ocassionally stir some of the solids from the bottom of the pan to the top and into the foam.As soon as you see those tell-tale golden brown flecks and smell a nut-like fragrance, take the pan off the heat and place it in the cold water. Continue to stir to stop the cooking and prevent the butter from burning. And believe me... you will know if it does. Keep stirring until the butter starts to look opaque and the foam has subsided, about 4 minutes.Remove pan from sink and stir in sugar and vanilla.Stir dry ingredients into butter mixture until a dough forms. Shape into a ball, wrap with plastic wrap, and let stand at cool room temperature 1 to 2 hours (to allow flavors to develop). The dough can be made 12 hours before baking and chilled, covered. Bring to room temperature to soften slightly before forming cookies, about 30 minutes.
Form and bake cookies:
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 325°F.
Scoop or press dough into bowl of cookie scoop or teaspoon, flattening the top. The dough will be quite stiff. Slide the dough out and place, flat side down, on an ungreased or parchment-lined baking sheet. The dough will feel crumbly, but will come together when pressed. Continue forming cookies and arranging on sheet about 1 inch apart. Be sure you have an even number of cookies for assembly later.
Bake cookies until just pale golden, 8 to 15 minutes. They will puff a bit, but will feel mostly solid when touched. Cool the sheet on a rack for 5 minutes, then transfer cookies to rack and cool completely, about 30 minutes. Store in an airtight container at room temperature if not assembling right away.
Assemble cookies:
Spread the flat side of one cookie with a thin layer of chestnut paste. Sandwich with flat side of another cookie. Continue with remaining cookies and paste, then let stand until set, about 45 minutes. Transfer cookies to an airtight container and, if at all humanly possible, wait 2 days before eating, especially if you've assembled them directly after baking and cooling.
*A round measuring spoon also works, despite what the author of the original recipe says.
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Considering the recipe, how could I not play one of my favorite renditions of "The Christmas Song," aka "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire..." Ladies and Gentlemen... I give you the new Velvet Fog... Michael Bublé. This one goes out to you, Celia Barbour. Cheer up! It's Christmas!
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