Reading Sy’s nostalgic ode to hand-cut and decorated sugar cookies landed me squarely back in about 1960, when I was forced to realize that in spite of my mother’s reputation as a stupendous cook, she could not make cookies. Sadly, this is not to say that she didn’t bake cookies; what I really mean is that she was unable to stop herself from burning cookies.
This was not so much a problem for her, because she didn’t care about cookies one way or the other–but the fact of her having been raised in the Great Depression meant that those black-brown, woody chunks of indeterminate variety sitting in a large, lidded jar on the counter weren’t getting out of the kitchen unless it was down one of our throats. I respected my mother for the glass jar, though. If there was one thing she despised, it was a hypocrite; so she never got one of those homey, kitschy ceramic cookie-jars that were all the rage in her era, and which for so many of my generation defined the kitchens of our mothers or grandmothers to such an extent that when she passed on the kids would fight over it and weep.
The huge glass jar kept her little hockey pucks “fresh” until they had waving green hairs growing out of them–which, given their relative moisture content as the driest things north of Death Valley, was a pretty long time. Once declared officially inedible, the wastefulness of which enraged her, the jar would disappear for several months before she had recovered sufficiently from our ingratitude to try it again.
My brother, 10 years older and in college, bringing home hungry friends who all had smelly feet from basketball, was not okay with the cookie situation in our domicile. And thus, through the Power of Intimidation, I became the cookie-baker in the family. First oatmeal. Then chocolate chip. I envisioned myself one day stacking cookies high on a platter and–it never happened. I couldn’t keep up with 3 voracious 20-year-old He-Men, who actually stood right over the cookie sheets like a pack of starving wolves until the cookies cooled to a temperature that would not fry their esophagi. And then one day it all changed.
I got me some German engineering, and got automated. For the princely sum of $1.79, I acquired The Mirro Easy-Grip Cookie Press, the forerunner of today’s Cookie Shooter. You select the template to determine the cookie’s shape, take the time-honored German recipe and load the dough into the cylinder; then just like your great-grandmother did, crank the handle to press forth small, dainty cookies in a variety of shapes right onto the cookie sheet–delicious and already decorative in form. I could crank out cookies faster than they could eat them. They complained that these cookies were too girly for their burgeoning machismo, but the cookies still disappeared.
Spritz is an age-old German traditional holiday cookie, rich like shortbread, but more delicate. Its original flavoring is vanilla, but it can be anything–almond, hazelnut, whatever you like.
In addition to their old-fashioned fancy shapes, they’re very easy to decorate, by adding colored sugar sprinkles to the cookies (before baking), or using food coloring in the dough itself. Fill center of rounds with a dot of raspberry jam for a true “vintage” classic. Or, if you’re a cinnamon fan, dust with cinnamon or cinnamon-sugar over the tops a flower for instant flavor and décor. And that’s not even counting what actual frosting can do; or joining two together with melted chocolate or chocolate frosting on their flat sides (sure, the frosting can come from a can; for a more-festive look, roll the edge, where the frosting protrudes, in colored sprinkles).
SPRITZ COOKIES
Ingredients:
1 cup shortening
1/2 cup sugar
2-1/4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 Tablespoon (+/-) water
Mix shortening, sugar, egg, and vanilla; add salt and baking powder; then, about 2/3 of a cup at a time, work in the flour. (“Real” cooks use a pastry blender for this; I just use a fork.) Mix until it’s a finely-crumbled texture. Add the water and mix until the dough is evenly moistened. Load the dough into a cookie press. Even though the recipe calls for ungreased baking sheets, I coat mine very lightly with Pam.
Hold the cookie press pointing straight down at the cookie sheet, about 1/2 inch above it, and turn the handle, forcing the dough through the template. When cookie is formed, stop pressure, and press just slightly into the cookie to break off the dough; repeat. The cookies will not expand much, so can be made close together. Fill the cookie sheet, and bake at 375° for 10 minutes or until done. Caution–easy to burn, so don’t overcook. They won’t be “golden brown”–they will almost still look uncooked.
Rich Variation:
CREAM CHEESE SPRITZ
Ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter
1 (3 ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or almond)
2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
Mix and form with cookie press as above.
Bake preheated 350°, 10 mins. Do not overcook!
10.29.09
