Cookie

I was doing a cooking demonstration in health-conscious Los Angeles, and when I melted the half-stick of butter that this recipe calls for—a modest amount by my standards—a woman near the front row panicked and exclaimed, “Oh my God! Look at all that butter he’s using!” I’m not sure these cookies fall into the “healthy” category, but with just a half-stick of butter for nearly 2 dozen cookies, I’d say you shouldn’t feel all that guilty about indulging in one—or maybe two, for those of you who really want to live on the edge. These cookies are a riff on Anzac biscuits that were created as sustenance for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (Anzac). I adapted a recipe from Cooking Light magazine, adding dried cranberries and naming them “cranzac cookies,” but I’ve left them lean enough to keep those who eat them in fighting weight.

After years of carefully studying dessert habits, I’ve begun to refine my theory that there are two types of people—those who like lemon desserts and those who like chocolate. I’ve observed that there’s a subspecies that likes desserts with a crunch, a group that includes me. I’m a big fan of seeds, and I like to add them to these jam-filled cookies to put them squarely in the crunchy camp. Or should I say “roundly,” since they are, indeed, round. But feel free to use any cookie cutters you have—round, square, oval, or even heart-shaped.

My first experience making Swiss cookies was less than optimal. A friend had given me his mother’s recipe for Basler leckerle, a spiced almond cookie swathed with a kirsch glaze. They’re meant to be kept in a tin for 6 months before eating, during which time they supposedly soften up and become toothsome delights. To make a six-month story short, I was skeptical when I plucked one of the cookies out of the tin. Then I bit down and almost lost a tooth they were so hard. Since then, I’ve avoided Swiss cookies. But, some time later, at Stohrer bakery on the rue Montorgeuil in Paris, I tasted the lovely zimtsterne, star-shaped cinnamon-almond cookies of Swiss origin that are made only around the holidays, and fell in love. I was prompted to come up with a recipe that I could have year-round—as well as one that wouldn’t require a trip to the dentist. I couldn’t find a cookie cutter in the traditional zimtsterne shape of a six-point star in France where I live, so a friend brought me one from New York, which I guess makes this Swiss cookie a star of international proportions.

Writing an ice cream book means two things: (1) you’ll need to buy a separate freezer, and (2) you’re going to have buckets of egg whites left over. Because this recipe uses quite of bit of egg whites, it was a staple in my repertoire for a while. I was certain all my friends (and neighbors, and delivery men, and local merchants, and the people who work in my doctor’s office) would tire of eating these coconut macaroons, but never once did I hear a complaint. Dipping the bottoms in dark chocolate isn’t required, but it really lifts the macaroons to a whole different level. I very highly recommend it.

This is the classic gingersnap: thin, crisp, with a spicy bite. For the best flavor, use very fresh spices. I grind my own cinnamon and cloves for these, and never, ever use preground black pepper. If you don’t have a pepper mill, shame on you. Go get one. Although not a pantry staple, coarse-crystal sugar—such as Demerara or turbinado—is wonderful embedded in the surface of each snappy cookie. I find it pretty indispensable for these cookies and use it for sprinkling onto many different baked goods before they go into the oven, so I always keep a tub of it in my kitchen cabinet.

The name may lead you to think these are crisp cookies, but they’re not. They are snappy in another way—there are plenty of spices in the batter, plus a generous helping of candied ginger, making them deserving of the snap moniker. They’re good on their own, but with such a soft, chewy texture, I had a hunch that they would make dynamite ice cream sandwiches, so I filled a few with Tangy Lemon Frozen Yogurt (page 174) and popped them in the freezer. The next day, when I pulled a sandwich out of the freezer and took a bite, I stopped dead in my tracks because I was so stunned: it was the best ice cream sandwich I’ve ever had.

The Scottish have shortbread and the French have their sablés (sandy-textured butter cookies), but both cultures and cookies are so hidebound in tradition that you’ll rarely find variations. To them I say kick off those highlanders, get your heads out of the sablé, and think again. These pecan shortbread cookies are delightfully crisp, with a delicately caramelized flavor thanks to the addition of brown sugar. If you’ve seen a fancy European-style butter or a locally made cultured one and you’ve been wondering what’s a good use for it, these buttery rectangles are just the things.

I have a blanket mistrust of any recipe with a superlative in the title. “The ultimate” or “the world’s finest” always makes me raise an eyebrow. But how else can I describe these brownines? I’ve made a lot of brownies in my life, and these really are the best. I learned to make them from the late Robert Steinberg, who changed the world of American chocolate when he cofounded Scharffen Berger chocolate. Part of Robert’s unique charm was that he was quick to argue, but I learned that like most people who hold strong opinions (at least food-wise), they’re invariably right when you taste the results. He adapted his recipe from one by cookbook author Maida Heatter. The first time I made these brownies, they were a dry, crumbly disaster. Still unconvinced that they were worthy of their accolades, I listened carefully as he walked me through the steps. When he asked if I had stirred the batter vigorously for 1 full minute, I stammered and then finally admitted that I cut that step short. “Aha!” he said. So I made them again, and discovered that was one life-changing minute.

It’s a misconception that the French don’t like American food. Step into any bakery in Paris and you’re likely to see one of two things: le gâteau au fromage or les brownies. Usually the cheesecake is pretty good, but the brownies are too often pale facsimiles. For some reason that I don’t understand, the French never put enough chocolate in their brownies. In my efforts to promote international understanding, I hand out brownies freely to my Parisian friends in hopes that pretty soon, someone will get the message and ramp up the fudginess of French brownies. (Perhaps it’s because the word “fud-gee” isn’t part of the French vocabulary?) And because I sometimes can’t help showing off my American audaciousness, I’ll whip up this recipe that combines the best of both the cheesecake and brownie worlds and pass the squares around. They tend to take people by surprise—I think the French need a little more time to get used to such a cra-zee combination.

Shortly after my first book came out, my phone rang one night a little after 10:30 p.m. A reader had tracked me down to let me know, with urgency, that she loved these cookies, but that they took 10 minutes to bake in her oven instead of the 9 minutes indicated in the recipe. When in doubt, err on the side of underbaking so your peanut butter cookies remain moist. Take them out when they’re still a bit soft, as they’ll continue to firm up a bit after cooling. This time around, I’ve given a bit more latitude with the timing so as to avoid any late-night baking-related emergency phone calls.

The day we start cloning people, we must begin with Flo Braker. Not only is she a lovely woman, but she’s one of the best bakers in America. And I’m all for propagating our species with as many great bakers as we can. I’ve been making her chocolate snaps for years—they’re just right when I’m craving a crispy cookie that tastes of pure and unadulterated deep, dark chocolate. Luckily, these cookies are easy to make and a snap to reproduce in any home kitchen.

I almost started an international incident when I put some pictures of my black and white cookies on my blog. People went ballistic because I didn’t include a recipe. The problem was that I didn’t know who to credit since my recipe is culled from a variety of sources. Like New York City, the spiritual home to these cookies, my sources and inspiration for them are the ultimate melting pot: a Seinfeld episode, an email from food maven Arthur Schwartz, a recipe from the legendary Zabar’s, and George Greenstein’s comprehensive tome, Secrets of a Jewish Baker.

In the kitchen at Chez Panisse, we called these “chocolate crack cookies” because of the craggy fissures that formed on the surface of the cookies as they baked. But because the restaurant was (and still is) located in Berkeley, California, we were conscious of what that name suggested, so we came up with all sorts of less objectionable aliases: baked chocolate truffles and chocolate quake cookies, to name just a couple. Nowadays, “crack” is a term freely used to describe anything addictive. And I feel comfortable using it to describe these cookies, which are a perfectly legit way to get a chocolate fix.

Bursting with gooey chocolate chips and crisp toasted nuts, these chocolate chip cookies have us all stary-eyed.

These are the darkest, most chocolatey cookies you’ll ever sink your teeth into. A whopping full pound of chocolate and two cups of chocolate chips ensure an express route to chocolate heaven. While the cookies bake, watch them carefully and remove them from the oven while they still feel molten in the center and just barely cooked around the outer edges because you want them to remain soft and chewy once they’re cool. But I suspect a few will go missing before they have a chance to cool completely.

These are my all-time favorite bars; I just love dates and nuts together. These bars have a crumbly texture with a creamy date center enhanced by raspberry juice.

Bananas are the surprise ingredient in these yummy, coconutty treats. Substitute cashews or pecans for the walnuts for some great flavor variations.

Chocolate and raspberry are a match made in heaven. Sweet and decadent, these bars are perfect with coffee or espresso.

The key to really moist, fudgy brownies is not to overmix the batter. For extra decadence, lightly frost them with softened chocolate ganache (page 108) and sprinkle with extra toasted nuts on top. These treats are for serious chocolate lovers.

This is my cleaned-up version of those legendary rice crispy squares. The difference is that these are full of whole grain goodness and nutrients from the nuts and fruit. Try these out on your kids for a guaranteed hit. You can find nut butter at any health food store.