These Spicy Little Cookies Are Even Better By The DozenWhen I moved from urban Northern California
to the wilds of Missouri twelve years ago, I dragged a number of things along with me that I will most likely never use again but haven't yet been able to part with: my last few pairs of high-heeled shoes (absurdly out of fashion, I'm sure), a barely started sweater-knitting project and $80 worth of unused woolen yarn--and over two dozen (now half-rusted) metal cookie cutters.
When I was a child, several times each year my mother would dig out various cookie cutters and we would proceed to make what I still believe are the best rolled sugar cookies in the world. Each baked and cooled cookie was then carefully spread with real buttercream frosting made from the recipe on the back of the C&H powdered sugar box, because I do not come from the type of people who would ever dream of making something as pointless and unpalatable as royal icing when you could use buttercream instead. (Last year I was talking to my mother on the phone while she and her sweetheart were finishing up a batch of these very cookies. "Joel! You're putting on too much frosting and making the cookies look funny!" Then after a moment she gave an exasperated sigh, because the solution was painfully obvious. "Just
eat the extra frosting!")
The shape of the cutters and the color of the frosting we used depended on the season: we made pink hearts for Valentine's Day, yellow chicks and blue bunnies for Easter, and red & green stars, stockings, bells, reindeer, and Santa holding his sack full of presents for Christmas. Sometimes we would go all out and decorate the frosted cookies with colored candy sprinkles or those tiny silver balls that you can still buy in places like England and Australia but which are now illegal in the United States. When I grew up and became Head Cookie Baker in the household, I purchased my own collection of cutters, purloined the secret recipe from my mother, and proceeded to continue the frosted cookie holiday tradition.
Things have changed. While I now happily spend countless hours
baking my own bread and
growing dozens of types of heirloom vegetables, I never seem to find the time to do all of that rolling and cutting and frosting. Cookies should be round and sliced from a log or made with a scoop is my new motto. Needless to say, you will never find a single gingerbread man or woman or child or cat or snowflake lurking among the hundreds of holiday goodies I cheerfully churn out each December. You will however, find lots and lots of these cute little round cookies hanging around my kitchen. (Many years ago I did make dozens of cheddar-dill crackers in the shape of penguins because I thought the recipient kids would be amused by them. Little did I know the childrens' starving mother would inhale every single penguin while driving to pick up her little darlings from soccer practice without noticing a single one.)
I was introduced to the world of dark and spicy desserts very late in life. Growing up, I cannot recall ever seeing a jar of molasses in the house (perhaps because it didn't go well with buttercream). About ten years ago a friend offered me a square hunk of homemade cake that was a deep, dark brown but did not appear to be chocolate. My friend explained that it was gingerbread. Never one to pass up dessert, I took a tentative bite and could not believe what I had been missing. I begged her for the recipe and went home and baked my own gingerbread cake, substituting homemade applesauce for some of the butter and adding more spices. I soon learned that recipes for this stuff abound--and that some people even frost it with chocolate buttercream (which is absolutely divine). Where had I been?
Then one day Joe asked me if I would bake him some spice cake but make cupcakes instead--because then more of the cake touches the pan and that, in his opinion, is the best part.
"You mean like gingerbread?" I asked.
"No. Like spice cake."
Sure enough, on the same page as a recipe for Gingerbread, my trusted Betty Crocker cookbook offered a recipe for Old-Fashioned Spice Cake that did not call for molasses and met with Joe's approval. I added applesauce and raisins to the batter, frosted the cupcakes using the recommended recipe for Caramel Frosting, and watched as
my approval rating went through the roof. According to the detailed notes I thankfully wrote in the margin, this happened in April of 2001.
A few years later I decided to try my hand at making spice cookies. I made them big and soft with raisins and the girl at the local natural foods store told me they were the best cookies she had eaten in her life. I made them small and crunchy and am now expected to bake up a large batch every time my mother comes to the farm (with survival packages of cookies shipped to her between visits).
The only difficult thing about this recipe is figuring out exactly what to call it. The cookies have all the makings of gingerbread, including molasses, but the original recipe mine is adapted from referred to them as spice cookies. A hopeful look through a random sample of older cookbooks on my shelf resulted in mass confusion.
I found recipes for Ginger-Sugar Cookies and Spiced Molasses Cookies and Ginger Snaps. In the
Joy Of Cooking there was a recipe for Old-Fashioned Molasses Cookies made with buttermilk that "are highly spiced." The Gingersnaps were described as "like 'boughten' ones in texture but with a dreamy flavor." And then there were the Ginger Thins, which I immediately decided should be called Gnash Your Teeth Ginger Thins because you are expected to make "about 300 3/4-inch wafers" by putting "dots of 1/8 teaspoon of dough 1-inch apart on a greased cookie sheet." Right.
The most comprehensive list of recipes was in
The Settlement Cookbook, first published in 1901 and sporting the trademarked phrase, "The Way To A Man's Heart" on the cover of my 32nd edition from 1965. In the index under "Cookies, Spice" I found no fewer than twelve different listings. There were Ginger Creams, Ginger Snaps, Ginger Wafers, Hermits (with raisins), Molasses Hermits, Card Gingerbread (which you make by thinly spreading the batter in a 9x13 pan, sprinkling it with sugar, then cutting into squares after baking), Spice Cookies, and Raisin Spice Cookies (which were completely different than the plain old Spice Cookies), and Christmas Spice Cookies. There were recipes for Anise Spice Cookies and Springerle, which are also made with anise.
But the best find of my search came from a 1964 copy of
The American Heritage Cookbook And Illustrated History Of American Eating & Drinking (Number 2 in, I assume, a series) that I picked up for $2.00 at a used bookstore a few years ago but never read. This is a cookbook with a sense of humor. Next to the recipe for Gingersnaps it says that "these Gingersnaps, Miss Harland instructed in
Common Sense in the Household, 'will keep for weeks,
if locked up.'"
Having found no right or wrong answer to my spice/snap/ginger/molasses cookie question, I decided to play it safe and include everything in the name of mine. Call these Molasses Ginger Spice Snaps whatever you like, just don't be surprised when they disappear quickly if they aren't locked up.
Click Here To See The Whole PictureFarmgirl Susan's Molasses Ginger Spice SnapsMakes about 12 dozen 2-inch cookies or 24 large cookies
(Recipe may be halved)These cookies are delicious large and small--and the little ones taste very, very good with a glass of chilled champagne. You can make them soft, or you can bake them a few more minutes so that they are nice and crunchy. Everybody seems to have a favorite way of eating them, and even if you accidentally overcook a tray and believe that they are burnt, most likely there is somebody hanging around who will think they are absolutely delicious.
The secret to making perfectly round cookies is to portion them out
with a scoop
(or 'disher,' as they are sometimes called). I have several of these in various sizes, and cannot imagine life without them. A good scoop will run about $10 and is well worth the money. I have had some of mine for 15 years. The smallest scoop in my collection holds roughly 2 teaspoons (10ml) and makes these cookies about 2 inches across. It isn't labeled, but I think it might be
this one from Norpro.
(Note: My second smallest scoop is made by OXO and says 2 teaspons right on it, but it holds more than that. Yes, scoop sizes can be quite confusing.) I use a 1/4-cup scoop to make the large version of these cookies--as well as most of the other cookies I bake, including my
Decidedly Different Chocolate Chip Cookies and
Crazy Cookies.
As with most cookies, these freeze beautifully. They also make delightful holiday gifts and look especially wonderful when packaged in cello bags and tied with a colorful ribbon. I recommend the reasonably priced, real cello bags from
Continental Packaging Corporation. There is no minimum order, and they ship quickly.
The key to making wonderful spice cookies is, of course, to use the very best and freshest spices you can get your hands on. I mail order mine in bulk from AmeriHerb (read more about that
here). Top quality ingredients in general will naturally give you superior tasting results. As always, I urge you to seek out organically produced and/or locally grown ingredients whenever possible. If you prefer, you can make these using all vegetable oil sticks or all butter.
1/2 cup (1 stick/4 ounces) butter
1 cup (2 sticks/8 ounces) non-hydrogenated vegetable oil sticks or spread, such as Earth Balance
2 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup sweet molasses or pure cane syrup (such as
Steen's)
4 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons ground cinnamon
4 teaspoons ground ginger
3 teaspoons cloves
1/2 teaspoon
freshly ground nutmeg, or 1 teaspoon pre-ground
Optional for larger cookies:
1-1/3 cups organic raisins
Heat oven to 375 degrees. Cream butter, vegetable oil sticks, and sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer on high speed for about 3 minutes (I use my
Black & Decker PowerPro Hand Mixer
for everything). Beat in the eggs and molasses. Reduce speed and mix in dry ingredients until well combined (you can mix the dry ingredients together first, but I never do).
Batter will be very soft. Chill or partially freeze it. (Very cold dough will take a minute or two longer to bake.) Place scoops of dough on a heavy baking sheet lined with parchment paper (I highly recommend investing in a few
commercial half-size sheet pans like these
--they are reasonably priced, last forever, and once you try them anything else immediately seems vastly inferior). Bake 10 to 14 minutes for 2-inch cookies, depending on desired consistency. Let cool for a few minutes on baking sheet (cookies will continue to bake and crisp up). In my oven, baking half-frozen, 2-teaspoon dough scoops for 14 minutes gives me 2-inch crunchy cookies. Bake longer for larger cookies. Transfer to a wire rack and cool completely. Store in an airtight container for several days or freeze.
© Copyright 2006 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres - and we sometimes eat cookies for breakfast.