I was in my early twenties when I first encountered the All-American Cookie. Where I came from, mothers and grandmothers turned their noses disdainfully at a cake that had less than four layers, many of my friends in grade school had hands-on experience with Swiss meringue, and cookies definitely came from a box bought at the grocery store.
My first American cookie experience involved the dough that came from a tube. It did not catch me completely off guard as it followed a gigantic mountain of nachos chips drowned in melted Velveeta cheese, and an odd ritual of passing thin, unfiltered cigarettes from hand to hand, around and around (which I found very unhygienic). I figured I’d roll with the local customs, having accepted a long time before the old adage “When in Rome…” Nachos tasted pretty good, particularly when chased with a sip of beer from a bottle – a deliberate act of defiance, as every single one of my male friends and relatives would shudder at the mere thought of imbibing the amber liquid without the proper glass (emphasis on proper).
Refrigerator cookies in a tube were the cheapest we could find, but once I meandered around bodies sprawled on the floor, squinting to avoid smoke, I stuffed two or three freshly baked cookies in my mouth and threw my head behind in bliss, giggling, convinced that I have figured out the secret of life on Earth. I wish I had thought of writing it all down, as the euphoria dissipated by the morning, and the revolutionary Eureka! moment vanished.
I learned in time that it was not a weird version of Marlboros that we were passing around, that nachos tasted much better with real cheese, and that cookies were a fool-proof way to anyone’s heart. I could smoothly adjust to the cultural shock as I did not have my Serbian matriarchs breathing down my neck and admonishing me for taking the easy way out.
My sister-in-law smirked disgustedly at perfectly balanced billowy whites and creamy yellows in my Iles Flotantes, but could not stop smiling when I made a batch of peanut butter cookies. I spent hours roasting and grinding hazelnuts, mixing them in a fragrant dough, cutting out tiny one-inch circles, baking them, making small sandwiches with crÃ¨me anglaise in the middle and dipping them in chocolate ganache, only to hear some of my co-workers complain that my petit-fores were too sweet. Next time I brought oatmeal raisin cookies to work, and everyone thought I could part Lake Michigan.
Once I became a mother, I surrendered to the unbeatable appeal of kitschy and gawdy birthday cakes my daughters wanted as they went beautifully along the pink and purple sequined dresses and feathered tutus they ogled whenever we went shopping. It’s what’s on the outside that counted, and again I rolled with the accepted, but feeling just a little bit guilty when I cut through the cake heavily topped with unbearably sweet turquoise or fuchsia frosting that clung to my palate, as I heard Mother’s tsk, tsk, tskÂ in my head and remembered masterfully assembled delectable tortes of my youth.
Chocolate chip cookiesÂ were the family favorites, but I started making sugar cookies just because I knew my girls would be happy: pink and red for Valentine’s Day, brown and orange for Halloween, red, white, and green for Christmas. That it was less of an effort than making crepes or a cake with summer fruit – desserts that Mother would declare utterly pedestrian and not worthy of guests – was just a bonus for which I was immensely thankful. After all, Mother was not in the kitchen with me.
And then I started reading food blogs and I could not stop. I discovered people who could weave magic with their words, people who captured a perfect moment with their camera, people who were on “per tu” with French cooking, and people who made stunning, perfectly decorated cookies. I was in awe as I pored through the posts, admiring the patience, creativity, and dexterity of cookie-makers, envious of their skill and artistry.
I don’t consider myself an accomplished baker and I am sure Mother would agree. Yeast does not scare me any more and I don’t think twice about pulling my 25-pound bag of Five Roses flour out of the pantry to play with a cake or two. But decorated cookies were one of last culinary bastions I was determined to conquer. Â And conquer them I did, indeed! Even if I spent days analyzing, reading, listening, and watching before I even pulled the butter out to soften. Even if I set my iPhone alarm to go off every minute when the cookies were in the oven, just to monitor their progress and attain that perfect hue of barely golden edges. Even if I stayed up until way past the witching hour to finish decorating them, feeling like Bugs Bunny trying in vain to get rid of colorful swirling circles in front of my eyes. (You know the cartoon I’m talking about, right?)
I am sure that skinny, unfiltered, fragrant cigarettes won’t make an appearance at my house any time soon, and neither will the mounds of Velveeta-smothered nacho chips. As for the cookies, I have to say that I have come a long way since the cheap, refrigerated dough version. I tasted them, bite by delectable bite, and even though the experience did not reveal the secrets of life, I felt at peace with the world around me.
My bouquet of cookies will join hundreds of different baked goods on Saturday, April 28, for the annual LA Food Blogger Bake Sale that supports Share Our Strength organization founded to eradicate kids’ hunger. All over the country, food bloggers are coming together, surrounded by clouds of powdered sugar and cocoa, sending off heady whiffs of vanilla, coconut, and lemon, and setting up the most amazing displays of cupcakes, cookies, truffles, caramels, pies, and brownies.
If you are in the neighborhood, visit us at BLD Restaurant in Beverly Hills for a chance to experience Candyland live! Last year I made four different kinds of truffles. You can read about my experience in this post: Casting Bread Upon the Waters. To see the list of all participating LA bloggers, click on the Bake Sale logo on the right.
ALL AMERICAN SUGAR COOKIES
The recipe for sugar cookies is a basic one that can be found anywhere. Royal icing recipe came with the Wilton’s jar of meringue powder. For the tutorials and videos on mixing color with icing and decorating cookies visitÂ Sweetopia,Â Sweet Adventures of Sugar Belle,Â Bake at 350, andÂ Lila Loa. My educational train ride through their blogs brought me many moments of inspiration, awe, joy, and admiration.
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- Â½ tsp salt
- 1 cup (2 sticks, 230gr) butter at room temperature (not too soft)
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 egg (it should be cold)
- Â½ tsp vanilla extract
- Â½ tsp lemon zest or Â¼ tsp lemon extract
- 1 lb (a little less than 500gr) powdered sugar
- 3 Tbsp meringue powder (Wiltonâ€™s brand has vanilla and cream of tartar, so you donâ€™t have to add any)
- 6 Tbsp warm water
Mix together flour and salt in a medium bowl. Cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Add egg, vanilla, and lemon zest (or extract). Add the flour and mix until thoroughly combined.
Turn the dough on the counter and shape into a disc. Wrap in plastic and place in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.
Dust the counter with a bit of flour and flatten the dough with a rolling pin to Â¼ inch thickness. Cut the shapes as desired using various cookie cutters. Place the cookies on a cookie sheet covered with a piece of parchment paper. (If you are making cookie pops, insert the popsicle stick in the base of the cookie with your right hand (if you are right-handed), keeping your left hand atop of the cookie to prevent the stick from piercing it; if the stick is bare on the back, take a piece of dough and patch the spot). Place the cookie sheet wit the cookies in the freezer for 15 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 350F. Bake your cold cookies for 10-13 minutes, depending on your oven. Let them cool for a few minutes on the cookie sheet and transfer to the cooling rack.
In a large bowl combine powdered sugar and meringue powder. Add warm water and mix with a hand mixer for 10 minutes. Let the icing rest, to allow air bubbles to disappear.