In the Hunt family, the tradition of Christmas cookie baking follows an established pattern. We do nothing until the 23rd of December. Then we dither over which recipes to make, and choose at least six, of which three are stupidly complicated and involve caramelising pecans or using a pastry bag or baking separate layers or some such nonsense. Then we head off the shops, which were emptied of all their premium baking supplies days ago - we just take whatever's left.
The problem is that we repeatedly forget how much we suck at this. I tend to get carried away by the spirit of season and delude myself that it will be easy. That it will be FUN. We always have to do those classic Christmas sugar cookies, and of course we'll mix our own icing - we all went to college, for God's sake, surely we can make a little icing.
The other problem is that we have terrible taste in cookie decoration. What do you mean, do we need sprinkles? Of course we need sprinkles. Coloured sugar? Yes, please. Edible confetti shaped like Christmas trees? So cute!
And since we've got all this stuff, we reason, we should just go ahead and double this recipe. And that one. Oh, and that one too. Who doesn't need four hundred thousand Christmas cookies? If we have too many left over after the party, we'll just give them away! Who doesn't want to be gifted with cookies that look like they were sneezed on by one of Santa's little glitter-snorting elves.
But this year, despite our innate tendency to be pretty bad at this, we actually produced a reasonable number and variety of mostly appetizing cookies. As usual we had about 300 left over, but that's what makes it Christmas in 'Merica.
Look to Pinterest for links to Type-A foodie websites that'll have you beating meringue and your head against your cloth-and-flour-wrapped chopping board. But if you have just average skills and average interest, look no further, for I bring you:
Rule 1: Ambition is your enemy
The laziest and most conservative member of the recipe selection committee must always be allowed to win. For instance:
A: "Oooh, this recipe looks fun."
B: "I'm not sure, Pippin, it says you need to make the banana-ginger ale chutney and the toasted coconut-lime glaze 72 hours in advance."
A: "You're right, Bill, what the f*** was I thinking. Let's just have peanut butter like we always do."
Disaster averted! Pick your battles and do not overreach.
Rule 2: Simplify! Suppress any inclination you have to do something special or "round out" your cookie menu.
A: "Don't you think it's weird to not have shortbread?"
B: "NO."
Rule 3: Buy pre-made icing.
Get the kind where you just snip off the tip and are good to go. No more runny, undisciplined, hallucinogenic hues! Smart cookies use available technology and know when to outsource. It's the American way.
Rule 4: Just say no to sprinkles of every kind.
A: "But-"
B: "NO."
Rule 5: Vet your assistants before they start "helping."
C: "Oh, fun! Are we making cookies?"
B: "NO."
A: "Oh hi, C! Thank Gof you're here. Can you run to the store and go buy us some more pre-packaged icing? Thanks a million."
Promote imbeciles out of harm's way.
Rule 6: Less is more.
Individualistic whimsical flourishes are selfish, undisciplined and make the whole battalion look weak. Stick to outlines; straight ones if possible. Any fool can do a squiggle; it takes an expert to make hundreds of icing dots that don't look like little comets.
Rule 7: Stick to the plan
A: "I just had another idea for these snowman-shaped cookies."
B: "Too late, we're doing them all in white outlines with blue eyes and yellow buttons."
A: "But wouldn't it be cute if they had little pink scarves?"
B: "Okay, who am I? Nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh wittle pink scawves... NO."
And don't forget to have fun and a very Merry Christmas!
It's good you're getting these tips in January, so you can have them good and memorized by the time it's Christmas cookie season again, am I right?
 |
| A contemporary family of gingerbears; also an example of inefficient and self-indulgent cookie making |
The problem is that we repeatedly forget how much we suck at this. I tend to get carried away by the spirit of season and delude myself that it will be easy. That it will be FUN. We always have to do those classic Christmas sugar cookies, and of course we'll mix our own icing - we all went to college, for God's sake, surely we can make a little icing.
The other problem is that we have terrible taste in cookie decoration. What do you mean, do we need sprinkles? Of course we need sprinkles. Coloured sugar? Yes, please. Edible confetti shaped like Christmas trees? So cute!
And since we've got all this stuff, we reason, we should just go ahead and double this recipe. And that one. Oh, and that one too. Who doesn't need four hundred thousand Christmas cookies? If we have too many left over after the party, we'll just give them away! Who doesn't want to be gifted with cookies that look like they were sneezed on by one of Santa's little glitter-snorting elves.
 |
| Our best cookies ever. |
Look to Pinterest for links to Type-A foodie websites that'll have you beating meringue and your head against your cloth-and-flour-wrapped chopping board. But if you have just average skills and average interest, look no further, for I bring you:
The Definitive How-To Guide to Producing Okay Christmas Cookies
Rule 1: Ambition is your enemy
The laziest and most conservative member of the recipe selection committee must always be allowed to win. For instance:
A: "Oooh, this recipe looks fun."
B: "I'm not sure, Pippin, it says you need to make the banana-ginger ale chutney and the toasted coconut-lime glaze 72 hours in advance."
A: "You're right, Bill, what the f*** was I thinking. Let's just have peanut butter like we always do."
Disaster averted! Pick your battles and do not overreach.
Rule 2: Simplify! Suppress any inclination you have to do something special or "round out" your cookie menu.
A: "Don't you think it's weird to not have shortbread?"
B: "NO."
Rule 3: Buy pre-made icing.
 |
| Pre-mixed icing in handy bags. Worth every red cent. |
Get the kind where you just snip off the tip and are good to go. No more runny, undisciplined, hallucinogenic hues! Smart cookies use available technology and know when to outsource. It's the American way.
Rule 4: Just say no to sprinkles of every kind.
A: "But-"
B: "NO."
Rule 5: Vet your assistants before they start "helping."
C: "Oh, fun! Are we making cookies?"
B: "NO."
A: "Oh hi, C! Thank Gof you're here. Can you run to the store and go buy us some more pre-packaged icing? Thanks a million."
Promote imbeciles out of harm's way.
Rule 6: Less is more.
Individualistic whimsical flourishes are selfish, undisciplined and make the whole battalion look weak. Stick to outlines; straight ones if possible. Any fool can do a squiggle; it takes an expert to make hundreds of icing dots that don't look like little comets.
Rule 7: Stick to the plan
A: "I just had another idea for these snowman-shaped cookies."
B: "Too late, we're doing them all in white outlines with blue eyes and yellow buttons."
A: "But wouldn't it be cute if they had little pink scarves?"
B: "Okay, who am I? Nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh wittle pink scawves... NO."
And don't forget to have fun and a very Merry Christmas!
It's good you're getting these tips in January, so you can have them good and memorized by the time it's Christmas cookie season again, am I right?
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