What can brown sugar do for you

Hello reader! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. I myself doubled my Thanksgiving intake by spending the day with my sister and her boyfriend in Oakland, and then catching a red-eye Thanksgiving night to do day 2 at my parents’ house on Long Island. That’s right. A bi-coastal, double-dinner, 5xpie Thanksgiving. But that is just how I roll.

I am a very predictable human being in many ways. For instance, if any toiletry is packaged in a combination of green and purple, apparently I will buy it (something i noticed the other day when i was surveying my various shampoos/lotions/facewash). For another, if you compliment me, I’ll sign your petition. Unless you’re petitioning for something terrible. But usually people don’t do that in San Francisco. The third truth about my predictability is this: any recipe with “brown sugar” woven into the title automatically becomes irresistible to me.

Apple pie? Sure I’ll make it. Brown Sugar Apple Pie? OH GOD THERE’S NO TIME WHERE IS MY PIE PLATE. Carrot bread? Sounds great. Spiced Brown Sugar Carrot Bread? HOW HAVE I LIVED WITHOUT YOU?

In fact, I’m the type who often substitutes out regular sugar with brown sugar without being told to. I just think there’s something so homey about brown sugar. Sure I know it’s just like…regular sugar with some molasses in it. But imagine sprinkling regular sugar on your oatmeal. Doesn’t it make you feel…dirty?

I don’t know if this brown sugar theory pans out in ALL recipes. Brown sugar pesto, for example, does not sound appetizing to me. But like…brown sugar hamburgers? I don’t know. I could probably dig that. Brown sugar spinach? WHY NOT. It’s something about the word brown. It works with butter too. Coffee cake, yay, whatever. Brown butter coffee cake? Fuck, does that exist? Let’s make it.

But first, make this. It’s worth it, even if you are of the belief that grating carrots is just about the worst task you could ever ask someone to do in the kitchen. I am of that belief. But here we are, with warm spiced carrot bread in our mouths, and doesn’t that sound nice?

Spiced Brown Sugar Carrot Bread
Adapted from Food & Wine via The Kitchen Sink

Yield: 1 loaf

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon crushed cardamom seeds
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup grapeseed oil
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
grated zest of 1/2 a lemon
1 1/4 cup shredded carrots (about 7 ounces)

Preheat the oven to 350°. Coat a 8-by-4-inch loaf pan with cooking spray or grease and lightly flour the pan.
In a medium bowl, combine the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, cardamom and salt.
In a large bowl, beat the eggs with the light brown sugar and granulated sugar until smooth. Add the oil in a thin stream, beating at high speed until the batter has doubled in volume, about 2 minutes. Beat in the vanilla and lemon zest. Fold in the shredded carrots. Beat in the dry ingredients at low speed in 3 batches, mixing well between additions.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake in the middle of the oven for 50 minutes to 1 hour, or until a cake tester inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Let the loaf cool in the pans for 10 minutes before turning it out onto a rack to cool completely.

Fitter, happier, more productive, and more pie

Attention Everyone. I have found my new favorite pie crust. So, throw away all your other recipes. Don’t listen to anyone else when they tell you they have the best pie crust. I have it. I found it. It’s mine now. Mine. And you’re going to benefit from it. You, if you’re near me, because I’ll be making you a pie. You, if you’re on the internet, because I’m sharing this with you.

Ah, but don’t let me gush too much about the crust. Because the FILLING of this pie? The filling, friends. It’s special too. THIS IS A REALLY FUCKING SPECIAL PIE. All of it. Together. Baked in the oven. Warm and condensed.

Because, silly me! I forgot. I forgot about how much I love pies. How basic they are. Simple butter crust, fruit and sugar, in the oven, cooled to thickness, forked in mouth. I’ve been complaining about my unstable boat forgetting that pies are the answer. Pies are never emotionally incapable. Pies would never lie to me. Pies are never so cute that they think they can get away with being a total dickslap. Pies! Pies pies pies pies pies! Just say it with me.

And another thing. It’s almost Thanksgiving. My favorite holiday. FAVORITE. Favorite favorite pie crust parsnips mashed potato volcano dark meat stuffing stuffing stuffing holiday. Gibberish! It’s what I’ve been reduced to!

AND ANOTHER THING. Those cranberries are so RED. Red cranberries and sweet white apples and brown sugar and EVERYONE’S HAPPY.

AND TWO MORE THINGS. 1) My catamaran has been repaired. 2) Golden raisins! GOLDEN!

I want you to be happy, reader (unless you have wronged my heart, in which case I hope you never find happiness. oh, you, i’m just kidding!). Therefore, it only makes sense that you make this pie for you and your family on Thanksgiving. You’ll remove it from the oven and feel a great pride in yourself. And you’ll smell it and only be slightly sad that you have uncontrollable urges to eat your poor warm flaky progeny.

Flaky Tart Dough
from Tartine

1 tsp salt
2/3 cup ice cold water
3 cups + 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 cup + 5 tbsp unsalted butter, very cold

In a small bowl, add the salt to the water and stir to dissolve. Keep very cold until ready to use.
Put the flour in the bowl of an electric mixer (or any large bowl). Cut the butter into 1-in pieces and scatter the pieces over the flour (or grate frozen butter into the flour with the large holes of a box grater). Mix with the paddle attachment of your mixer until the butter is still in pieces the size of a pea (or using a pastry blender or 2 knives, cut the butter until the size of small peas). Add the salt-and-water mixture and mix for several seconds until the dough begins to come together in a ball but is not completely smooth. You should still be able to see butter chunks.
On a lightly floured surface, divide the dough into 2 equal balls and shape each into a disk 1-in thick. Wrap well in plastic wrap and chill for at least 2 hours or up to overnight.
Place a disk of dough on a lightly floured surface and roll out to 1/8″ thick. Carefully transfer to the pie dish. Cut the excess off. Roll out the other disk. When you’re ready to put the top of the pie on, lightly moisten the edge of the pie with water, press the top crust on and crimp with your fingers or a fork.

Rosy Apple Cranberry Pie
from the Pie and Pastry Bible

Pie crust for a 2-crust pie

4-5 medium apples, peeled, cored, and sliced 1/4″ thick (i used winesap and granny smith
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
3/4 cup granulated sugar (i used demerara sugar. does it make a difference? damned if i know)
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp salt
4 tsps unsalted butter
2 1/2 tbsps cornstarch
2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries
1/2 cup golden raisins (or 2 extra tbsp sugar)

In a large bowl, combine the apples, lemon juice, sugars, cinnamon, and salt, and toss to mix. Allow the apples to macerate for a minimum of 30 minutes and maximum of 3 hours at room temp. Transfer the apple mixture to a colander suspended over a bowl to capture the liquid. You should have about 6 tbsps of liquid.
In a small saucepan, boil down this liquid with the butter, to 1/4 cup, or until syrupy and lightly caramelized. Swirl the liquid but don’t stir it. Meanwhile, transfer the apples to a bowl and toss them with the cornstarch until all traces of it have disappeared.
Pour hot syrup over the apples, tossing gently. Add the cranberries and raisins and gently mix.
Pour the filling into the pie crust. Moisten the edge and press the top crust on. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour before baking (this will relax the pastry and keep it flaky).
Preheat the oven to 425. Set an oven rack at the lowest level and place a baking stone or baking sheet on it. Cut several slits into the top of the pie crust and set the pie directly on the baking sheet. Bake for 50-60 minutes or until the juices are bubbling out through the slits and the apples feel tender but not mushy. After 30 minutes you can protect the edges from overbrowning with a foil ring. Cool for at least 4 hours before cutting. Store at room temp for up to 2 days.

[this post is dedicated to my dear Sassafras, the best dog there ever was]

Spice.

Friends, I’m awkward. It’s ok, it’s something I’ve come to terms with. In fact, there are times I embrace it and play it up. But there are other times I feel like, MUST I BE THIS WAY?? Must I pretend to not see someone walking past me on the street because I’ve been ignoring his text messages (hey, side note. men of the world: seriously? SERIOUSLY? can you guys not try to start relationships via text? it would be much appreciated. you want to ask me out? ASK ME THE FUCK OUT [side side note: not now. i will say no]. do not. DO. NOT. send me a text message on a friday or saturday night seeing what i’m “up to.” my god. excuse me, now i need to go readjust my pantyhose and get a new prescription for my glasses and buy orthopedic shoes. but honestly, KIDS THESE DAYS. ahem.)  Must I get all red-faced every time I meet someone new? Must I say really strange things and then spend the next 10 minutes repeating in my head “why did I say that, what possessed me to say that?” therefore not contributing anything meaningful to the conversation because I’m too busy ruing my awkwardness?? Must I say “you too” when it doesn’t fit (food service person: here’s your basket of fries, enjoy! me: thanks! you too!  OR  ranger station employee: here’s a map, have a great hike! me: thanks! you too!)? MUST I?

The answer is yes. I must. It is just who I am. It’s strange and sometimes jarring but occasionally it’s funny and endearing (right??? RIGHT????). But you know what?–and, here it comes, the transition into this recipe–sometimes being awkward keeps things interesting. It really spices things up. SPICES. LIKE CHAI.

Hello, all hail my word-weaving skills. Let’s talk about the chai though. It was my sister’s idea to make some authentic chai, because the powdered stuff from Trader Joe’s, although lovely, was a tad too sweet for us and didn’t have enough KICK. So I went to her house this past weekend to do some paint-peeling/door-sanding and we cooked up this recipe, based on something I found in Moosewood but then ingeniously enhanced by our chai intuitions. Which were dead on, btw.

It seems like every time I go to my sister’s place, we make something delicious and I can barely stand to wait another day before I’m in my own kitch making it again. Such was the case with this chai. A mere day after having it at the sis’s, I’m in Rainbow Grocery searching out cardamom pods. I made my own version that night, but I grated the ginger instead of chopping it, which was a moronic idea, and so instead of a pleasant nip at the end of your sip, my version was a round-house kick to the mouth. WOOPS.

But I milked it down and it wasn’t so bad. And it still beats the store-bought stuff. And it’s easy and you can make a whole bunch and store it in your fridge and make it cup by cup–hot or cold. And it’s SPICY. Just like you and your life!

Tibetan-Style Chai
adapted from Moosewood Restaurant Celebrates!

5 cups water
1/3 to 1/2 cup chopped fresh ginger root (DON’T grate it like it did. remember? round-house kick?)
1 tsp cardamom seeds (i added seeds AND pods bc i’m craaayyy)
3 whole cinnamon sticks
3 or 4 whole cloves
3 or 4 whole peppercorns
4 tea bags to 4 tsps loose black tea, such as orange pekoe or darjeeling
4 cups milk (i used soymilk)
1/2 cup sugar (i used about 1/3 cup, i don’t like it too sweet)

In a large covered pot, bring the water, ginger root, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, peppercorns, and tea to a boil. Reduce the heat, uncover, and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. Add the milk and sugar and return to a boil; then lower the heat and simmer for 5 more minutes. Strain and serve.
Store leftover chai in a sealed container in the fridge. Gently reheat the tea as necessary.

What beats beets?

Guys. Remember Doug Funnie and his favorite band The Beets and that awesome song they sang about needing more allowance (yodeleheehoo)? REMEMBER? Gosh, Doug Funnie. What a good guy he was. If more men used Doug Funnie as a role model then maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess we’re in.

But, listen, friends: I’m back. I’m still bitter and sarcastic, but I think it has transitioned from asshole-y to kinda humorous. You know? I don’t really MEAN it anymore. But I do. In the funny way. Do you follow?

Also I got some golden beets. I can’t resist things of such nature. GOLDEN BEETS. They’re beautiful. I’m a beet lover, and the only thing that stops me sometimes is the MESS that results from red beets. Because I’m inclined towards mess anyway, and when you introduce juices that stain things…bad things usually happen. No such worries with golden beets.

I used a vinaigrette from another beet salad (that one with carrots). It’s gingery garlicky vinegary lovely. It’s a great go-to for anything with any sort of sweetness. Beets, for one. I mixed them with some apples and some cucumbers for good measure, and it was good. It was good and life is good and I need more allowance, yodeleheehoo.

Beet, Cucumber, Apple Salad with Gingery Vinaigrette
(vinaigrette from Moosewood New Classics)

4-5 medium golden beets
1 hard tart apple, peeled and chopped (i used winesap, i’d imagine granny smith would do too)
1 cucumber, peeled and chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped fine
1 walnut-sized piece of fresh ginger, grated
2 tbsps oil (i used grapeseed oil)
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1 shallot, chopped (i used half an onion)
salt & pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 400. Chop the greens from the beets and wrap each beet in aluminum foil. Place on a baking sheet and bake for approximately 30-40 minutes, until a knife goes through the entire beet smoothly. Remove from the oven, unwrap, and wash in cold water. Remove the skins. Chop the beets roughly. Combine the beets, apple, and cucumber in a bowl. In another small bowl, combine the oil, vinegar, shallots, ginger, and garlic. Mix well and let sit. Add salt and pepper to taste. Pour the vinegar over the salad and mix well. You can refrigerate it or just eat it as is. This salad gets better as it sits.

Honeycakesugarpiecupcakeunicornpuppies

But just the first part. The honey cake.

As many of you know, my dad keeps bees. Which means I have been blessed with a steady stream of mild and wonderful honey. I can barely stomach the stuff that comes in those plastic bear bottles anymore. It’s because I’m a privileged and entitled brat and nothing but the freshest honey will ever do for me.

That said, I can’t use my family’s honey in baked goods. I just can’t. It’s like liquid gold to me, and putting it into an albeit delicious baked good feels like…encasing gold in…play-doh. Wow I am as good at analogies as Michael Jackson was at staying black (too soon?).

But I’ve made honey cake before. And I’ve used the good stuff. Because when “honey” is in the title of the recipe, I know it’s not just in there for the sweetness. It’s there for the flavor. And the spices in this cake play up the dense sweetness of honey in a really lovely way.

That said, this recipe isn’t perfect. Mine fell a bit in the oven, which was partially my fault (I bumped one into the other while taking one out to test it), but mostly I think it’s that this batter is so liquidy and heavy that the leavening is really tricky to nail. Plus here I think the spiciness could be upped quite a bit…with delicious results.

Basically this cake demands you sit down on some sort of soft surface with a cup of earl grey tea (with milk in it) and some sort of fire crackling in the background. Which is really what all of November should be.

Jewish Honey Cake
from Moosewood Restaurant Desserts

3 eggs, beaten
1 cup sugar
2 tbsps vegetable oil
3 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
2 tsps baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp cinnamon
pinch of ground cloves
1 cup honey
1 cup warm, strong, freshly brewed coffee
1/2 cup almonds or walnuts, chopped (i omitted these, i wasn’t feeling the nuts)
powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 325˚F.
Butter and flour a 5×9-inch loaf pan and set aside. (mine fit in 2)
Beat the eggs and sugar until well mixed. Add the oil, stirring until smooth. Sift together all the dry ingredients and spices and set aside. Dissolve the honey in the coffee. Add the dry ingredients and the coffee mixture alternately to the egg mixture, about half of each at a time. Stir until the batter is smooth. Then, add the nuts.
Pour the batter into the load pan and bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool for 15 minutes and remove from the pan. Dust with powdered sugar.
This cake keeps very well if tightly wrapped or covered and often tastes even better one or two days later. We like it with a shmear of cream cheese or a scoop of ice cream.

Putting the coffee in turkish coffee cake cookie bars

Lately this blog has been reading less like a mature 26-year-old’s journey through a baking life and more like a hormonal 16-year-old’s journey through the neuroses of her first relationship. I apologize. I’ve been swinging pretty recklessly on the mood swingset. These days I’m evening out a bit. Let’s bring it back to the baked goods. No more mention of my personal views on any of the following: 1) men 2) men being disappointments 3) sociopaths 4) why you, yes you, guy, the one bothering me while I enjoy this book on the steps at lunch, shouldn’t bother, really, because I no longer have the patience to deal with what will inevitably be your inability to participate in a functional relationship because of a) your parents’ divorce that you never fully dealt with b) that one girl that messed you up that one time c) that idiotic feeling you have that this is the time in your life when you need to really “figure things out.” Oh shit, I did it again. Last one, I promise. Henceforth: coffee cake talk.

Usually coffee cake is overly sweet and topped with sugar and butter chunks and probably the type of thing you eat to balance out your coffee (black please because i’m a dude who likes things real simple and yet, somehow, i cannot figure out basic human emotion, HONESTLY). But not this Turkish coffee cake. This coffee cake has coffee in it. A shitload. Wait, time out. Can we talk about how every. single. time. I try to type “coffee” I type “coffe.” Muscle memory, ENGAGE. For goodness sake.

So my coworker asks me at work, what makes this Turkish? And I was like…I have no idea. I guess there is supposed to be Turkish coffee in it, but I do not have Turkish coffee, so I put in instant espresso. So I guess this isn’t Turkish at all. Unless there is something else about it that makes it Turkish. I don’t really know anything about Turkey, to be honest. Except that apparently they have distinctive coffee. And those delights. I’ve had them, they are kinda delightful. And also–no joke–I am half-watching Man vs. Wild in the background as I type this and he’s in the Turkish Mountains. So now I know what those kinda look like.

Allow me to sum up. This is a Tassajara Bread Book recipe. I love this cookbook, I really do. I know everything in it is going to be super non-fussy and earthy and relatively healthy. This is no exception. I think it’s a really lovely coffee cake cookie bar. I mean that. I think you should make it. Even if you’re emotionally stunted. ESPECIALLY if you’re emotionally stunted.  **(Just kidding, every man I’ve ever dated who may or may not think this is about him)

Turkish Coffee Cake Cookie Bars
from the Tassajara Bread Book

2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup brown sugar
2 tbsps Turkish-type coffee or powdered instant coffee
2 tsps cinnamon
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 tsp allspice or ground coriander (optional–i used allspice)
1/2 cup butter or margarine
1 cup sour cream (i used plain yogurt)
1 egg, beaten
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup chopped nuts
4 oz chocolate chips (optional)

Preheat oven to 350. Mix together the flour, sugar, coffee, and spices, then cut in the butter with a pastry cutter until crumbly. PRess half of this mixture into a 9×13-inch pan. Mix the remaining half with the sour cream, egg, soda, and chopped nuts. If using chocolate chips, sprinkle them over the crust in the pan. Pour the batter on top of the crust. Bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes, until the middle is springy.

SEE HOW EASY?

Moosewood Muffins

Hey jerks, here are a bunch of healthy and delicious muffins. With pumpkins. And apples. BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.

And they’re not even cake in muffin form, so I was wrong about that always being the case. They’re really real muffins. They couldn’t be put in a loaf pan and baked as bread. They couldn’t be frosted. They’re just muffins. Unequivocally. AND they’re amazing muffins.

Are you happy now? You would be if you made these. Or, if you’re me, you’d be generally pissed off, but then happy for the few moments it takes you to devour one of these while riding your bike down Valencia, and then immediately pissed off again when you’re done with the muffin.

On account of everyone kicking my boat around. Remember?

No but really, I made these for a pumpkin themed brunch, because it’s pumpkin season, HAVEN’T YOU HEARD?, and all I kept doing is pimping them out as “healthy muffins,” which, they are, in essence, comparatively at least, but I mean, a few lettuce leaves are probably healthier, and everyone in attendance was like, what are these?, and I was all, THEY’RE HEALTHY MUFFINS THEY’RE HEALTHY AND GOOD FOR YOU YOU SHOULD EAT ONE HERE TAKE IT. And there are days I wonder why I don’t have many friends.

Moosewood Muffins  (Pumpkin Apple Cinnamon variation)
from Moosewood Restaurant New Classics

Streusel Topping:
1/3 cup unbleached flour
1 1/2 tbsps cold butter, chopped into small pieces
1 1/2 tbsps brown sugar, packed
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
pinch of salt

Wet ingredients:
6 tbsps butter, room temperature
1/2 cup to 1/3 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsps milk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup pumpkin puree
1 cup peeled, cored, chopped apples

Dry ingredients:
2 cups all-purpose or pastry flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 350. Prepare a 12-cup muffin tin by lightly oiling the cups or placing a paper liner in each cup.
If you want a topping, mix together all of the streusel ingredients and blend with a fork until the butter is pea-sized or smaller. Set aside. IN a mixing bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until smooth. Beat in the egg and then the milk and vanilla; the mixture will look lumpy. With a rubber spatula, fold in the pumpkin puree and chopped apples.
In a separate large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon, and mix well. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and fold together with a rubber spatula without overmixing. Spoon about 1/3 cup of teh batter into each muffin cup. Sprinkle each muffin with a scant tbsp of the streusel topping.
Immediately place the muffins in the oven and bake for 30-35 minutes, until puffed and golden. After about 20 minutes, rotate the muffin tin in the oven to ensure even baking.
Remove from the oven and place on a rack to cool for about 15 minutes. Serve warm or cool completely and store in a sealed container at room temperature.

Per serving: 167 calories

Thumb cookies

Oh reader please please read that title like “some cookies” with a lisp. Please do. There, now don’t you feel better?

Can I be honest? I’m going to be honest, since 80% of this blog’s purpose is my own catharsis (heyyyy ego!). I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m in a funk, friends. I’m like, kinda pissed off a lot. For those of you who know me in Real Life, that is not usually how I am. I’m generally really fucking laid back. To a fault. What I’m saying is things don’t really rock my boat. It’s really wide and stable. I think it’s a catamaran.

But listen, lately my boat has been making me nauseated with all the rocking. It’s all unstable and it’s pissing me off, and the result is I’ve become somewhat of a pill. The idea of which pisses me off even more, resulting in this terribly pissy negative feedback loop that spirals out in a really ominous way.

I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW. Because the other night I went out (which, when I’m all pissy, is rarely a good idea) and some guy who Didn’t Know had the BALLS to come up to me and feed me some lame compliment, how DARE he, and I accidentally maybe might’ve told him to go fuck himself, because now I’m a raging bitch who can’t take a compliment without doubting the complimenter’s motives and making him feel bad about ever daring to walk over to me in the first place, but also I’m pretty sure he was just casting out his end-of-the-night-and-I-ain’t-got-nobody net in hopes to pull in whatever was left on the dancefloor, and I’m sorry, but did you not know that I AM SITTING IN AN UNSTABLE BOAT?? This is who I am at this stage in my life, and god help any and all innocent and genuine people that wander into my path over the next few months. Because I used to be one of those innocent and genuine people and then MY BOAT RAN AGROUND AND I’M PISSED ABOUT IT SO DON’T EVEN BOTHER.

That said, this recipe was a big fucking disappointment. It took me forever to shell the goddamn hazelnuts and then grinding them resulted in more of a powder than nice little baby pieces and they took a long time to roll and press and fuss with, and then the flavor was like NOT THERE. And GUESS WHAT, it’s a Martha recipe, so already I’m all, COME ON. I don’t know who she’s got over there in her test kitchen but I’d like to have a word or two with recipe tester #2 or whoever.

But they’re really kind of ok, you know? It’s just that I’m just a raging bitch who isn’t satisfied with anything or anyone and is waiting for something or someone to PROVE TO ME that they are WORTH. MY. TIME. And for goodness sake, leave my poor boat ALONE.

Hazelnut Jam Thumbprints
from Martha’s Cookies

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsps sugar
1 large egg, each part lightly beaten
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 cup toasted skinned hazelnuts, ground
strawberry, raspberry, or apricot jam, for filling

Put butter and 1/2 cup sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add egg yolk and vanilla, and mix well. Reduce speed to low. Add flour and salt and mix until just combined. Refrigerate dough for 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 325. Stir together hazelnuts and remaining 2 tbsps sugar in a small bowl. Roll dough into 1-inch balls, dip balls in beaten egg white, then in hazelnut mixture. Space 1 inch apart on baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Press down center of each ball with your thumb. Bake for 10 minutes. Remove from oven; press down centers again with the lightly floured end of a wooden spoon. Return to oven. Bake cookies until golden brown, 8-10 minutes more. Let cool slightly on sheets on wire racks. Fill each center with jam. Cookies can be stored in a single layer in airtight containers at room temperature for 2 days.