Of Grandmothers & Christmas Cookies

I know we all have our treasured family Christmas cookie recipes. Some of you might have them on neatly filed recipe cards or if you're an overachiever, they might be laminated or on an iPad. Then there's the rest of us. Most of mine are scribbled on paper, creased and dog-eared, with greasy butter stains and chocolate blotches. I have one special recipe that my grandmother mailed to me - she scribbled extra instructions on the back of the envelope. It's amazing how just reading over a recipe can bring so many fond memories flooding back!

Take my Granny - she of the scribbled envelope. She was a baker extraordinaire. She made scores of different cookies, all beautifully done and delicious. My favorite was the recipe that came in the envelope: her paper-thin sugar cookies, cut out with her large collection of cookie cutters. On some of them she would place tiny silver dragees as decoration. Those cookies were almost as thin as parchment paper. I am not exaggerating. How she rolled them that thin and cut them out so precisely I'll never know. Okay, I lied - I do know. She told me how: by keeping everything chilled and being patient when rolling & cutting - but I cannot recreate her magic. I tried it, but I gave up on it after one session with paper thin gooey dough ripping in pieces and sticking to everything but where it was supposed to stick. I kept the dough chilled, I swear! I didn't want to waste all that dough, so I baked them anyway. The resulting cookies were an assortment of strange distorted blobs, pitiful half-stars, decapitated snowmen, reindeer torsos, and so on... Sigh.
 
 Granny was vigilant and quite rigid with her 'cookie rules'. No grabbing any from the kitchen stash ( where some were always kept year-round) without asking. Not more than ONE cookie at a time. NO picking out raisins - that was cookie defacement. If you didn't like raisins ( I didn't and I still don't ) then too bad. You choked 'em down or you didn't have the cookie. NEVER any cookie before lunch or dinner. And then there was her cookie storage method. All the cookies were packed in tins and stacked in the unheated spare bedroom upstairs. Woe to the kid who tried to sneak up there for a pre-Christmas taste!
One time I committed the Ultimate Cookie Offense: I snuck upstairs to the forbidden room. I had an excuse; it was my aunt's idea. Can you blame a 10 year old? How could I resist my aunt's tempting whispers of this illicit adventure? It was a thrilling experience. We creaked the door open, my eyes like saucers at the sight of all those colorful cookie tins. It was cold in there. I grabbed some random cookies (but none with raisins - I was in a hurry but I could spot raisins in a flash from years of expertly avoiding them), gobbled them down, and then we snuck back down before we were busted. And amazingly, we got away with it. I think Granny was busy cooking dinner or something, the clanking of pans drowning out the sounds of our footsteps up & down the squeaky old staircase. I can't remember if I ever told her that story; I tend to think I kept it secret all those long years since. For all that and despite her strict cookie protocols, Granny was a wonderful, loving grandmother, and even if I can't make her cookies, I can hold that old envelope and smile.

 

 

 

                          Some of my grandmothers vintage cookie tins

Then there was Gramma. My copies of her recipes are scribbled on paper, as I copied them from the originals. They're well worn and stained. There are two of them: Sand Tarts and Gramma's Chocolate Cookies. Her cookies were always so small, neat and uniform that they're legendary in our family. She tended towards drop cookies, rather than cut-outs. But she had an uncanny knack for making each spooned-off drop or rolled dough ball exactly the same size. And small. They almost looked machine made. Every year, I put on my holiday music playlist and bake those cookies. I make a heroic effort to recreate Gramma's tidy little circles. Most of the time, my version comes out over sized, lumpy, and uneven. I redouble my efforts on the next batch, going ever so sloowly and carefully. I have been successful some of the time and when I am, I phone my mother to triumphantly announce "I DID IT!!" Then we laugh and reminisce about Gramma and her quiet, patient baking. Sometimes as I'm baking the cookies and singing Christmas songs, I actually get all choked up. But that's a good thing, right? It's a testament to the close and loving relationship I had with my grandmothers. When I see my tins full of neat little circular cookies - just like Gramma's! - I smile. Cookies and memories - a few more of my favorite little things in life!

So here's the recipe for my Gramma's Sand Tarts. They're a crispy little butter cookie. The thinner they are, the better - for maximum crispiness.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
 

Sand Tarts

(makes 4-5 doz.)

2 C sifted flour
½ C butter, softened to room temperature
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 C Sugar
1 egg, well beaten

Topping ingredients:

1 TBSP sugar
¼ tsp cinnamon

Sift flour once & measure again. Add baking powder & sift again. Add to mixer bowl. Add sugar gradually. Cream together until light & fluffy. Add egg & flour, blend. Turn out of bowl, wrap, and chill thoroughly in refrigerator. (you can freeze the dough at this point if you want to bake later on)

 Once chilled, roll into small uniform balls (maybe the size of a large grape). Lay balls on parchment-lined baking sheet. Flatten balls using a piece of parchment under a juice glass to press. The dough will stick, hence the parchment paper under the juice glass. I press down the glass and then twist it back & forth. It helps to keep the dough chilled.

Bake at 375 degrees for 7-8 minutes or until golden.

Sprinkle on topping while hot.

 

Merry Christmas!