When in Bruges, EAT!

 

Some cities are worth every pound you pack on when visiting. Bruges (Brugge), Belgium absolutely qualifies. You will not be remiss about one calorie that crosses your lips.

It's not like the foods of Belgium only have a few favorites to tempt you with; in fact, Belgian cuisine for me is loaded in comfy favorites: french fries, beefy stews, fresh mussels, delicious beers, and the best chocolates! Your will-power simply does not stand a chance, and really, it's best left at home.

When you hear french-fries, you don't think France. Most Americans probably have an almost Pavlovian response, starting to salivate as their vision goes blurred with golden arches. French fries, or pomme frites  as they are know in most of Europe, have historical roots in Belgium. Spanish Belgians in the late 1600s allegedly fried up potato wedges when the rivers froze and fresh fish weren't available for meal-time frying. With such deep roots, the french fry permeates Belgian cuisine and is considered a perfectly acceptable side even to a fantastic steak. Fine by me!

Some of the best, however, are sold in the main square from a food truck and humbly served in cardboard "boats," a perfect size to be cupped by one hand while the other hand busies itself stuffing your face with salty, crispy-on-the-outside-soft-in-the-center slivers. Belgian fries are just the right chunky size to couple two together to scoop up the toppings on the "loaded" version (on the left). I am still dreaming of the spicy but not hot sweet-savory curry-ketchup squeezed all over the fries, with a touch of mayonnaise (yes!) and onions. It's heavenly! 

And so is the chocolate in Bruges. Validation is complete as to why Belgian chocolates have a world-wide reputation. I have no doubt they are some of the best, although many artisan chocolatiers in America are catching up. (But they are most likely importing their chocolate from Belgium!) I have never seen so many chocolate stores in one place! Chocolat  (great book!) could have featured Bruges, not a small town in France. Seriously, every block has at least one store, if not 2 or 3. 

  

Bruges will leave you with a chocolate favorite, no doubt. Neuhaus is very popular, and several friends had recommended it before our arrival. Our taxi driver agreed, but in his "local opinion" he showed us Dumon, claiming it the best. (We later learned that Rick Steves does as well; his family Christmas pictures from over the years were proudly posted on the wall.)

     

    

This is a family-run chocolatier, which makes shopping here very appealing verse the factory-run stores like Neuhaus. Plus, the *adorable* storefront completely had us sold even before tasting the truly fabulous chocolates at surprisingly inexpensive prices. Repeat visits over just a few days had us chatting friendly with Mrs. Dumon and her daughter (long hair). I bought a cute brown box loaded with fresh, hand-made chocolates for E and my mother-in-law who were back at home with the kids. E said they were "amazing" and I agree. The box was gone in 1 week flat!

  

Loaded calories also come in the form of waffles. Hot, crispy sweet fresh waffles loaded in fresh whipped cream, topped with a hunk of coffee ice cream, if you please. Oh, and a drizzle of hot chocolate. HEAVEN on dimpled dough. The strawberry version is just as luxurious.

And if that weren't enough! We skipped several lunches and a dinner simply because we were so full of beer, chocolate, french fries and waffles. What sit-down meals we did partake of were satisfying and memorable. A local who stopped us within the first few hours in the city confirmed that we couldn't go wrong eating anywhere, and she was right. If Belgian food is not your style (WHY!?!), then variety is certainly available, with plenty of French, Italian, Greek and even Indian restaurants in the city center. (Our Indian meal was so-so, but the fried apple crepe we had there for dessert could easily compete with the best street vendors in Paris.)

  

A mussel lover, I had to try the little sleek, pearly black member of the clam family. Belgium is known to have fantastic mussels, and a friend had included that on her "Must-eat" list for me. At an early dinner, a giant metal pot was presented to us which had countless moules swimming in a creamy-wine broth that was just dreamy. Giant, taut, with a touch of the ocean, the mussels were excellent. A side of frittes  was the traditional accompaniment, and I did not resist. (Even though this was now my second serving of fries in less than a few hours.)

  

We also stumbled on a wonderful lunch where I was able to try the traditional beef stew braised in beer. YUM, especially with a side of frittes (Yes, once again! I warned you about packing on the pounds!). My friend's steak with hollandaise sauce was scrumptious, and the salad fresh, crisp and a welcomed green in my sea of fattening foods. (By the way, I have a theory: if a restaurant can get the simple dinner salad right, with fresh greens and a delicious homemade dressing, then they usually will also prevail on other items on the menu.)

Last but definitely not least: BEER. I have to quote a little Wikipedia here:

Belgian beer comprises the most diverse national collection of quality beer in the world, and varies from the popular pale lager to lambic beer and Flemish red. Belgian beer-brewing's origins go back to the Middle Ages. There are approximately 125 breweries in the country, ranging from international giants to microbreweries.

My kinda country! One pub-style bar we spent the evening at had a menu as thick as the Bible with more beer flavors than you could possible drink in one year. And a cute bar tender that thouthfully questions you and offers a beer to match your preferences.

  

The Trappist beers are quite popular, and we sampled a few and enjoyed them all. Belgian beers also dip into more exotic ingredients, including the lambic beers that feature blackcurrent, cherry (Kriek), and raspberry (Frambroos), my favorite. They tend to have a bit of sparkle and are on the sweet end of the spectrum. Delightful! Be careful though; beer has varying degrees of alcoholic percentages. My friend accidentally ordered Duvel, the "Devil" with a rocking 8.2% for one bottle. I had no qualms about relieving her of this burden. :0)

   

Now, after all of that, go back to the title of this blog. When in Bruges, EAT! Need I say more?

Wonderful Christmas Book

What's sweeter than two lonely souls on Christmas Eve finding each other as the perfect "present"?

The little green Croc comes to the city in search of Father Christmas, only to discover he's gone, back at the North Pole preparing for his annual sleigh ride. Sad and lonely, the little guy wanders the city dejected.

Melrose has just moved to town, and though he drives a fancy car and has a Park Avenue-like apartment, he has no friends yet. Lonely in his own right, he decides to pass on Christmas.

But the two unexpectedly bump into each other, and a friendship blooms instantly. Best buds embrace each other and spend Christmas Eve and Day together, in true Christmas spirit!

Beautiful, simple, sweet, with festive images of the holiday life. I picked this up in London last year, and I'm so glad I discovered "Melrose and Croc." So are my children.

"Melrose and Croc: A Christmas to Remember"

Two Sites to Share

Just a quick blog to share two sites you might enjoy.

If you live in the Naples area,  I suggest you stop by AndiamoTrips. She's a "local" having lived here for years, and her blog spotlights events in the area, especially food and wine. She helps coordinate wine tastings at the enoteca Ciao Vino in Varcaturo, right down the road from me. I hope to get there soon! 

The Espresso Break  also features fascinating places and things to do, as well as blogs about the culture of this area. I recommend it as well, and hope you will enjoy it.

Cioa!   

Flat Brianna's Visit (Flat Stanley's Friend)

We have a visitor right now from the States. Her name is Flat Brianna, and she came all the way from Penfield, New York via United States Postal Service. (She's flat! This has its advantages.) Her "flight" here cost her $2.20. Lucky girl!

What a cute little second grader she is. Flat Brianna is quite adventuresome, and brave. My gosh! She came a long way on her own to see Italy!

Her friends back in New York are studying communities around the country and world. Flat Brianna is on a mission to learn a little bit about Naples, Italy, so she can share this information with her friends back home. 

She learned that Naples is considered one of the oldest cities in the Western World, some 2,800 years old. WHOA! That's old!  People from a long, long time ago, called the Greeks, came to this area and named it "Neopolis" or "New City." Today, Naples is a city of layers, with the Greek city buried under the Roman, and the Roman under the medieval and modern city.

It did not take long for Flat Brianna to notice that gaint mountain looming over the city. She was so curious about it. She learned that it was called Mount Vesuvius, and that it is actually an active volcano that last erupted in 1944. The mountain is also known in history for spewing ashes and lava that buried several Roman cities including Pompeii during an eruption in 79 AD.

Flat Brianna has been eating LOTS of Italian food. (Lots meaning variety of foods since Flat Brianna is tiny and doesn't eat much. One bow-tie pasta fills her up!) Her favorite food is of course, pizza margharita!  Flat Brianna knows a good thing when she tastes one! She learned that the pizza was named after a famous Queen who visited Naples in 1889 and fell in love with the flat crusted pizza with fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella and basil leaves. Flat Brianna immediately recognized that the colors of the pizza matched the colors of the Italian flag! VERY GOOD Flat Brianna! You're so smart.

In a few days, Flat Brianna heads back to her friends in New York. She can't wait to share a few pictures, a postcard from Naples and many stories of her grand Italian adventure. Ciao, ciao!! Buon viaggio!

 Flat Brianna enjoying the gorgeous views at Lago d'Averno

Update on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 05:48PM by Panda

A friend of mine who used to live in Italy asked me if her friend could mail me Flat Brianna. This friend's daughter made her for a second-grade project. The class is studying communities by sending cut-out "flat people" to friends around the States (and world). It's based off of the Flat Stanley Project. It was fun to sponsor Flat Brianna here!

A Day of Olive Picking & Olive Oil

One of the quintessential images of Italy has to be ancient olive trees and a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. Can you even imagine any good Italian kitchen without the fruity oil?

For over two thousand years, the firm fruit has been an integral part of the boot's culture and food. This is modern history for the olive, which has been adored and cultivated, some think, for 6,000 years.

Mentioned in the Bible multiple times, and even the Quran, "the the olive leaf (has been) a symbol of abundance, glory and peace....Olive oil has long been considered sacred; it was used to anoint kings and athletes in ancient Greece. It was burnt in the sacred lamps of temples as well as being the "eternal flame" of the original Olympic Games. Victors in these games were crowned with its leaves. Today, it is still used in many religious ceremonies." (Wikipedia)

With a history like this, the olive tree is understandably revered here. The process of picking the black and green rounds and magically turning them into silky oil, therefore, makes the perfect living-in-Italy school field trip. All the kindergarten classes at Peanut's school were fortunate to do just such a few weeks ago. (Thanks to the Italian immersion teacher is who is married to a second generation olive farmer.) At the peak of olive-picking season, two bus loads of children and chaperones (lucky me!) rolled out to the Benevento province in the Campania region. 

It was an absolutley perfect and gorgeous day: Golden, fall-like bright sun mixed with an uplifting crisp air. Clean air. Hills of gnarled-trunks. Olive trees as far as the eye could see. 300 year-old trees. Silvery green leaves, dark mud, ancient bark. Really spectacular.

  

The children had a chance to try old and new techniques. New ways allow for a mechanical "tickler" which combs the trees, stripping the ripe olives and letting them fall into the waiting nets which are spread in dutiful anticipation. Old ways demand simple tools: your hands. Grab a branch and run your cupped fingers down the stem yanking off the little fruits. It's that easy. (Well, not really!)

The trip also involved visiting two local, small factories. One used modern machinery and included a wash of the olives while stripping them of any attached leaves or stems. The older factory didn't bother with washing, and spread crushed olive pulp between large woven mats to press out the essential oils. Seeing the two, one after the other, provided an interesting historical  lesson. We both walked away with a bottle of the first-pressed olive oil, as a bonus.

The children loved the day, and me too! It will always be one I remember quite fondly, not only for the learning experience, but more importantly for the time in the countryside of Italy with my only daughter. Priceless.

"Modern" Factory

   

Older Methods

  

Peanut having a good day!

  

  

Thanksgiving Feast

Giving thanks for America, for freedom and life with abundance can be done no matter where you are. For us, it has been in Italy for the last two Thanksgiving celebrations. 

Military folks know a thing or two about sharing this day of gratitude with whomever happens to be around. Often far from family, our holidays express the true meaning of friendship and shared experiences. Those at the table are welcomed additions, certainly not obligations. Though we might not share a life-time of years together, as with family, the laughs and stories recounted are just as heartfelt.  

This year we kept it simple with just one other family, although by the amount of food prepared you would never have guessed. We reflected on the previous year, a natural process over wine and yummy food. Of the 5 families we celebrated with in 2008, THREE have left Italy. Again, classic military, people coming and going. By next Thanksgiving, 4 of the 5 will be gone. Just us left. 

But I have no doubt there will still be friends next year at the Thanksgiving table, with children running around caught-up in the joy of the special moments and plenty of story-telling. Wine will be poured, and spilled, and we'll all groan about our aching full bellies. We'll miss our families back home just as we did this year. Recipes will be exchanged, and tender stories of childhood memories shared. And maybe a new food tradition will be born.  (I think this year's pancetta-sage turkey has gained a permanent spot on the Thanksgiving menu.)

We miss you, our moms and dads, brothers and sisters (sister-in-laws!), all the kids, especially the children born and not hugged by us yet (*tear drop falls*). We really do think about you all on this day, and wish you well. We like to imagine we know exactly where you are and what you are doing, and that we're still apart of your Thanksgiving, even given the thousands of miles of distance between us, geographically speaking that is. 

All our love..... 

The Abundance

  

Food is an essential component of the world's traditions. Whether you are Italian, or American, or Slovenian, food expresses your shared culture, conveys identity and re-confirms the seasons of life. It re-assures, let's you know everything is going to be ok.

To have a full-table of food is truly a blessing. Really.

Food is sacred, a primal need, a necessity. I think this is why providing for the homeless - or foodless - is one of the most basic forms of charity, one that has been around since the beginning of time. Think: how many parables of the Bible involve food (bread, wine, water, seeds, or the cultivation of food)?

The abundance was felt here. Thank you God!

  

 

 

  

Thanksgiving 2009 - Italy

Pancetta-Sage-Rosemary Turkey
Mashed Potatoes and pancetta-sage-rosemary gravy
Sweet-potato casserole with crunchy-coconut topping
Greenbean casserole
Amanda's Orecchiette-n-Italian Cheeses (Fancy Mac-n-cheese)
Sourdough stuffing with sausage, apples and golden raisens
Cranberry-pineapple sauce
Crescent rolls

Pumpkin pie with Nutella
Banana-carmel bread pudding
Wicked Bars (think milk and white chocolate chips, Heath bars and carmel)
Vanilla and vanilla-carmel ice cream

Amarone della Valpolicella 2005
Italian espresso
Pumpkin Beer
Guinness

Naples Italy At Night

   

What is the mystery into which we are initiated at Naples-this sense of life profoundly informed by awareness of death that values the smallest pleasure as god-given, fatalistic attributing misfortune to the gods' sterner associate, Il Destino? For all its scenic display, Naples is a city of secrets.

"The Ancient Shore: Dispatches from Naples" Shirley Hazzard

Naples offers contrasts. The decaying beautify of a once gorgeous Dame flirts with visitors who struggle to reconcile the ancient wondrous history mixed with timeless ocean views harmed by a layer of trash and neglect. As hosts to the city, we often find ourselves almost apologetic, openly stating the paradoxes to relieve first-time visitors the agony of expressing disappointment with awe.

Still the city never fails to amaze, the pulse of a vitality unarguabley beating if only to its own drum. Late Sunday afternoons in the city seem more like moments of pause in a 7-day cycle of flurry. Its inhabitants stroll, there is no real purpose other than enjoying the moment, moments of gelato, children with balloons, and easy browsing the immigrant street hawkers' cheap goods, the latest knock-offs sold along Via Toledo an ancient way that dives from the historic center into Piazza Plebiscito, the people's place.

Famous "Christmas Alley" glows with families, babies in daddys' arms, children pointing at the latest flashy reindeer "ears" begging for a new toy. Squished and vibrant, locals with only a few tourists, still hanging over into the new week,  shuffle slowly up the narrow alleys glowing with night-time lights, music from "talking toys" and the voices of vendors pleading "Prego!" in hopes of catching attention in a whirl of hawkers. Street-stall after street-stall is filled with miniature figurines, every imaginable image of the baby Christ, up for sale to place front-and-center in the family crib, or nativity scene.

Churches have early evening hours, warm lights glowing from open, ornately carved wooden doors. The 14th century Santa Chiara's Gothic bell tower and church interior offer simple elegance, a striking contrast to its neighbor, the Baroque church of Gesu Nuovo. Hidden behind a "facade of dog-tooth moulding" quite modern and unattractive, the church's interior is grand, ornate, and a puzzle work of inlaid colored marble from around the world. Even the main Duomo offers Sunday evening mass while non-worshippers reverently talk in whispers and tip-toe around the active service.

Food can be had in any square, or along the main roads. The 18th century historic Brandi - the alleged location of the first Margharita pizza - offers outside seating, even on a chilly night. The slightly over-priced typical cuisine is acceptable when served with a dose of history. Campania wines and Campania foods are its agenda.

Naples at night is like a weathered lady, her wrinkles and discolorations hiding in the shadows of a dinner by candlelight. Faded imperfections. The lights flicker and create an atmosphere of intrigue. The dark alleys of the Spanish Quarter are too black to be seen, and left alone.

"...if you come to know Naples you will never cease to rail at its woes-joined in your laments by Neapolitans too courteous, perhaps, to inquire how other societies are likely to look by their third millennium. Glimpses of the arcane, the grotesque, the diabolical will never fail to startle and estrange- compounded, as in most great cities, by modern violence and disaffection." (Shirley Hazzard)

Yet the allure is there, and many, who are more than just an ephemeral traveler, unconsciously grow a fond spot for the chaotic city and find themselves thankful to partake "in intimacy with this civilized spirit and to share its long adventure." (Hazzard) 

Tuesdays With Dorie

All-in-one Holiday Bundt Cake

 

I have to admit, the "All-in-one" title had me a bit worried. Anytime I see a slew of ingredients I take a moment to mentally taste the combination. Anytime I have tried something that advertises as "all-in-one" I have typically ended up disappointed, confirming the tried and true mantra: keep it simple.

This week's Tuesday with Dorie "cake" is different, however. The combination of all-things holiday-food - apples, pumpkin, cranberries, pecans and spices like cinnamon and nutmeg - sounds  enticing. I can confirm that it tastes  excellent as well. 

The cake does in fact adhere to the "keep it simple" motto by being, well, simple! Besides a little bit of butter and sugar beating, the cake is a essentially a dump and bake breeze. I had all the ingredients on-hand, requiring no grocery-store trip, and making it possible to whip-up Saturday while my hubby was still out of town.

It's moist, full of "treats" like apple chunks and dried cranberries, and features a mellow spicy-pumpkin flavor. It gets better with age, and even 4 days out it is still wonderful. 

The density leaves it cutting more like a bread. The bundt shape helps add a touch of drama, and the drizzled maple-syrup and powdered sugar glaze is the "icing on the cake" in my opinion. I love it! (My kids did too.) If you wish to add a little bit more to your presentation, drizzle straight-up maple syrup across the plate in one of those random patterns that hip restaurants do.

This cake is so easy, I can hardly think of anything else to write! Ha! Lucky you.

I'll just leave you with a few pictures....

   

The Nitty Britty has the recipe!

Under the Big Top - Italian Style

An annual trip to the circus was a childhood luxury my parents afforded us. We did, after all, live in the shadows of the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, Florida, a legacy of one of the famous Ringling Brothers of the 19th and 20th century circus world.

Driving to the circus always happened in the winter nights, when the sun set early, and it often took us about 45 minutes to travel to the large arena where the circus was held, a drive that to a child seemed to take forever. And was full of anticipation. The circus was a mix of emotions for me, amazement at the brilliant costumes and beautiful women, wonder at the mind-boggling stunts, and slight fear of the large crowds, the chance to lose my parents, and the thought that something might go wrong, like a trapeze artist falling to his death.  Yeah, I was a worry-wort kind of kid.

When the brightly colored posters featuring funny clowns and sparkley-clad ladies riding elephants hit the streets, I always smiled with expectation. Going to the circus each year fell into the annual category of fun events like the county fair, the Memorial weekend fishing tournament, and the Desoto Parade. 

Circus posters typically feature a tent, a "big top" as they are called, but I never experienced one like that in my childhood; instead, it was a large professional arena transformed with 3 rings and tangles of hanging lights, ropes and cages all part of the show.

Unlike my childhood, my children's circus experience has only been in Italy, and under a true "big top" tent, constructed exclusively for the month or so that the circus is in town. The posters pop-up around town, just like I remember. And my children notice them like a flash of lightening, immediately launching into "Oh mom! When are we going?!?!" questions.

  

It is, in fact, an annual field trip for their Italian school. They both experienced it last year, but only Buddy this time, and I was able to join him. (Peanut now attends the American Department of Defense School.)

The experience was quite fun, and generally speaking, much like my childhood circus days, just on a smaller scale. (Although there were quite a bit of string-bikini style outfits that caused me to do a double take. Oh yeah, it's Italy!)

I couldn't start enjoying the circus, however, until I stopped worrying! (True to my childhood nature.)

The tent was small, only 2 rings, and cramped. I am very distrustful of foreign fairs, rides and construction, visions of the tent collapsing ran through my head. An unusual gas-fume smell hit me too as we entered the arena, I think from the diesel engines used to run the lights. I immediately imagined us all getting fumed to death. Once settled in a somewhat sturdy seat, my mind had settled on the quickest escape-route, and a cappuccino was in my hand, I was just fine.  And it was a dang good cappuccino! (You can always count on good coffee anywhere, even at the "Home Depot" like store here! God-forbid an Italian shop for paint and screws without having the chance for a shot of espresso.)

There were goofy clowns shooting it up with wooden guns in hand, how propos  for mafia-ridden Napoli! We also saw elephant tricks, and seals and penguins on ice, various amazing human feats, and a woman who could spin multiple hula-hoops on every part of her body, at once, while suspended in the air from a rope! The horses were also most impressive.

 

There was an ice skating rink in the first ring, not something found in my circus memories, and the various performances on ice managed to even sneak in a Michael Jackson "Thriller" tribute. All the other "props" were there too, including light-up toys, fairy floss (cotton candy) and popcorn, though the Italian lady had no change! CLASSIC in Italy. (They absolutely hate giving change.) We had to wait for the next person to buy something in hopes that she'd get the proper change for you. 

  

One thing is certain about living in Italy, it is truly fascinating! The children's field trips are unusual, and memory-making. More on that later as I share details from Peanut's school-trip this week: an olive farm with trees hundreds of years old, and two small-town olive-oil factories.

I Thought It Was A...

...Chestnut. My Road-side Roasted Surprise.

 Italians love their street-foods. Even in suburban settings like Varcaturo, where I live.

What's being cooked-up or sold fresh at my highway exit is a sure-enough indicator of what is seasonal and, consequently, craved by Italians.

At the end of spring, the peaches and apricots dot the road-side stand. Last year it was an old man with his crusty old white van, this year, his son, whose youthful energy fueled an expansion of the fruit varieties, and also an umbrella to shade the agricultural wares.

The "Cherry-man" also comes, offering two varieties. We buy them by the bag-fulls. 

Watermelons and bright yellow canery melons are a few of the hot summer's delights. 

Bouquets of flowers-to-go replace food for days of remembrance and holidays when Italians visit ancestors at cemeteries followed by picnics in the country. Bundles of cut fluffy, puffy Mimosa flowers, looking like they're straight out of a Dr. Zeus book, mark "Women's Day" in March. (Photo found here.)

The fall is the time of chesnuts (castagne), roasted or even boiled and cracked. They are found in everything from savory soups to sweet cakes. Small towns in the country feature all-weekend long festivals to honor the nut.  

A few weeks ago, I just assumed that chestnuts were roasting on the road-side grill. Streams of Italians came and went with yellow-paper wrapped pans. I was headed out for the long journey of bringing home my newest Asian-auction buy (see below), so I delayed the purchase.

Several hours later I returned to find the "Chestnut-man" packed up with only a few wrapped trays left for sale. I asked "Quanto costa?" and was a little bit surprised at the 5-Euro reply. But I was there, already out of the car, and I really wanted to try the chesnuts during season. So I bought a pack.

Back home only about 1 minute later, I tore into the paper announcing to E that I had fresh roasted chestnuts. He groaned. (He's not a fan.) But chestnuts is NOT what I discovered tucked under the faded-yellow wrap. 

Artichokes! Carciofi! (Car-cho-fee) Five, roasted artichokes stuffed with herbs and garlic, and blooming with flavor! To my surprise, and delight! 

 

Tuesdays With Dorie FINALLY

Sugar-Topped Molasses Spice Cookies  

  

YAHOOOOOOOO! I finally did it. Cooked a Tuesdays With Dorie recipe and posted it on a Tuesday right on schedule. I have missed doing this so much!

Even better yet, the recipe was FANTASTIC!

Sugar-Topped Molasses Spice Cookies are wonderful! No bones about it. Crispy-soft and spicy warm, sweet with a ginger-kick, these easy-to-make cookies will be a new holiday tradition in our household.

The smells filling the house as they bake make me H-A-P-P-Y!

They also draw an audience. Everyone - husband and kids both - kept creeping into the kitchen wanting to know "When are the cookies going to be done?"

The first batch of these over-sized treats was gone before the second batch was half-way done in the oven, which left my husband asking, "Are there more?"

The initial plan was to get them done and out of the house ASAP, to work with my husband. Do you think that happened? NAH!

None made it. They were just too darn good! Half of the 2 dozen this recipes makes were individually wrapped, double-bagged and put aside in the freezer for a last-minute holiday gathering, or most likely for Christmas Eve when the post-Paris trip has left me no time to bake Santa some cookies. (I'm quite certain Santa will enjoy these cookies!) Dorie says they will freeze well for up to 2 months.

  

I highly  recommend you give them a try. The recipe does require freezing the dough for 30 minutes or refrigeration for 1 hour (or overnight). I froze mine for about 45 minutes and had no problems what-so-ever. I kept the un-rolled batches in the freezer too. It's important to keep the dough chilled otherwise these cookies will spread  like spilled oil on your counter.

I know you want the recipe! You can find it here, at Cookies with Boyswho chose the recipe for this week. (Thank you!)

Cooking Notes:

1. Mine cooked in about 11-12 minutes, on the lower end of the time range.

2. The dough is split between to saran-wrapped mounds. After freezing and before separating them into 12 individually palm-rolled balls, I softly rolled the mound into a uniform log. This allowed me to trace a slice mark on the log to ensure even sizes. I then rolled each slice in my hand, washing my hands mid-log to keep them from sticking to my palm.

3. I used a nice solid large-based glass to press the balls of dough to get a nice flat cookie, leaving them about 1/4 inch thick. I then sprinkled a bit more sugar on top. Perfect.

4. This recipe calls for GROUND PEPPER and I did about 20 grinds, a small pinch. The result was a little heat (also from the ginger) but I might try a little more next time.