The Cookie Madness Continues

Some cookie decoration -- though, sadly, not all -- was accomplished this weekend with the help of Tyee in the moral support department and her lovely daughter in the the sprinkle application department.

Guess what I'm doing every night this week? I may even coopt Mr. Elinoire's time and labor until the Cookie Decoration Push is over.

I wanted to try out some new cookie cutters when I was baking last weekend, but held back because they had lots of little skinny bits. I thought it would be difficult to get the cutter to release the sticky, thick gingerbread dough I was baking.



I tried spraying oil on them cutters and that sorta kinda worked, but what ended up being really successful was just plopping the cutter in a small pile of flour before cutting dough with it. As a bonus, it also left a thin white outline on the rest of the dough and when you're making gingerbread men, you end up with what looks like a carefully documented crime scene with chalk outlines where the bodies were.




Now that I know that flour helps, I'm a little sad that I didn't try all my new cookie cutters. Next time I bake, that adorable castle with all the little fiddly bits is going to get a workout.

Despite all my whining here, I will probably make yet more cookies once my sister's in town. Our mother was hoping we'd have an evening of springerle baking, but she didn't take the time lag into account. You need to make these cookies at least two weeks before you eat them (or they are even more like cardboard* than they are when they're "edible") and my sister won't be here until the 21st.

We might try a different dough or maybe marzipan with the springerle molds, but we will definitely attempt Finnish spoon cookies, AKA Lusikkaleivat (<--- note lack of link: I have discovered something that is not in wikipedia!). The recipe calls for browning butter, hours of molding cookie dough into teaspoons, and a "tart jam" for the filling. The high maintenance cookie production process is why this is going to be a group effort, but I will be supplying the jammy goodness. (If there's one thing I've got in abundance this year, it's tart jam.) Stay tuned for updates.

Oh, and also? My cookie production levels are nothing compared to my in-laws. Check out the bounty from Mr. Elinoire's family Annual Post-Thanksgiving Bake-a-Thon. Holy Cow! (Or Hellig kua! in Norwegian, which is what most of these cookies are.)



(The krumkagas have the funniest name but the peppernodders are the tastiest.)

*When I ate springerle (from a bakery) in Switzerland, they were terrific, though you have to appreciate anise or you will disagree with me, possibly (but hopefully not) violently.** The ones created by regular folks like you and me and my mother, however, were much more fun to look at than attempt to eat.

** I have noticed that some people have strong feelings about anise.

Jamming

My small maple cutting board is pink right now. It's been seeing a lot of plum action.



Ever since a kind coworker brought me some fragrant, ripe Santa Rosa plums from her tree, I've been making jam. I gave her a jar from each ofmy first two batches -- a basic fruit/sugar/lemon juice recipe, and one with orange juice and zest to give it a little bit of depth -- and she rewarded me by bringing in another fifteen pounds or so of fruit.

That is a lot of plums.

If you put them all in one paper grocery bag they would fill it. (You would not do that, of course, because the fruit in the bottom half of the bag would become mush and that would be very, very sad. And purple.)



I keep jam batches fairly small so I had enough fruit to make at least four more types of plum jam. (I would've had more than that but I couldn't start for a couple days, and sadly many of the very ripest plums had Moved On.) I'm moving into wacky Christine Ferber recipe territory and using mint, Alsatian wine,* vanilla, honey, and lemon slices (but not all at the same time because that would be overkill).



I am pleased with the output, but I am also relieved my coworker has left for a three week vacation. I think that by the time she comes back, she will find that her tree is Done For The Season. And I? Will be off the hook.**



(I also hope she has someone picking things up at her house while she's gone because otherwise, when she comes back, she may discover that her yard is full of stumbling, confused wasps, drunk on fermented plums.)

* No that does not mean it's German Shepherd flavor. Ew.

** I am an admitted canning dilettante and am glad I am not a farm wife*** who has to preserve (or lose) the harvest. I would have been the most horribly complainy pioneer ever.

*** My friend Anno, who actually is a farmer, sent me a postcard today telling me that last month she put up TWENTY jars of strawberry jam. What a show off.

**** This footnote is not attached to anything but I thought I'd add that I left the peels on for all but the last batch of jam I made... and of course now I wish I'd done that with most of the others. Hmph.