Ridiculous

This afternoon I asked Brandon if I was ridiculous, as I stood in my father’s kitchen covered in flour handprints and surrounded by baking paraphernalia. He said yes.

I think he’s right. For the past couple years I have taken it upon myself to do all of the baking my family used to do (when we all lived in the same house) by myself. I don’t only make the pfeffernüsse (which have 21 ingredients, rest for 24 hours, and have made at least one German woman cry with joy) and cinnamon stars (I think these were my gateway into the crack that is merengue-based confections, including my obsession with Swiss merengue buttercream. I even had a layer of almond dacquoise in one of the wedding cakes I made.) but am continually trying out new things which, if successful, become traditions in their own right.

This year I made Pine-nut Brown Sugar cookies, Molasses cookies (straight-up molasses, no spice, this is how Brandon likes them), Oat Florentines, Orange/Pomelo Shortbread, Cranberry/Orange Shortbread, and Alpha and Omega of Chocolate Chip cookies in addition to the the traditional cookies. I think I’ll do it again next year too, because my family and friends love them and they are all REALLY delicious, and it is so nice to make a pot of tea and have some sweet things to munch on while one engages in a bit of introspection.

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