the greatest gingerbread
and why cookies really aren't that good
I will preface this by saying that today’s newsletter has a lot of controversial opinions and might also get me called “judgmental” or even “mean” by my mother.
I don’t particularly like cookies. I actually think they might be the worst form of a dessert (though cakes come in a close second to the bottom, a take that I will vigorously defend in some future email).
Hear me out: Cookies are sweet and maybe crunchy, but most of the time they’re too small to really be a vessel for anything of interest. They’re often burnt, or, even worse, undercooked. When they are decent, they’re usually just taking things I love — like chocolate chips or walnuts or straight butter, baby — and diluting them with flour and sugar. I’d rather a pie (fruity!), or a lemon bar (tangy!) or a cheesecake (frankly orgasmic!) any day.
But cookies have their time and their place even for me, and the holidays are that time. There is something transcendent about an array of gorgeous, festive cookies in a box or a messy, candy-bedecked gingerbread house. I could fuck with some Hamantaschen right about now.
There is also something terribly disappointing about a gorgeously decorated cookie that’s thrilling right until you bite into it, when suddenly it becomes a sad excuse for what you imagined a cookie should be. I’m not trying to be mean, but you all know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of an uninspiring baked good this time of year. (And if you don’t, this newsletter truly might not be for you.)
An example from today: I spent most of the day sampling cookies made by my father’s coworkers. They were, as a rule, extremely meh. (Praying that my dad isn’t such a fan of this newsletter experiment that he’s already shared it with said coworkers, because this would be an embarrassing moment for us both.) One was a classic thumbprint that definitely hadn’t been salted. One was a chocolate chip that was so overdone it hurt to bite into it. One had gummy bears dotted throughout, which… why?
Which brings us to my new holiday cookie theory: Everyone should master one cookie recipe they can make perfectly, every. single. time. If it’s a holiday cookie, all the better, since they tend to be made more interesting by an abundance of jam or nuts or spices. But if chocolate chip is all you can manage, that’s great, too. You just do not want to be that person giving cookies that people will eat only when they’re drunk on Dec. 26 and have nothing left in the house.
In the Kramer household, the foolproof holiday cookie is gingerbread. My dad also participated in the aforementioned cursed cookie exchange, and, just to make today’s newsletter completely and unforgivably obnoxious, I can tell you that his cookies were superb. They’re still just cookies, which means that I won’t be eating more than two of the 130 we ended up baking, but they look festive and they taste exactly as you’d imagine they should.
Which leads me to something I hope to do a lot more of in the future — my first cookbook recommendation. The gingerbread recipe we use comes from Tartine: A Classic Revisited, which is the pastry and desserts book from the San Francisco-based bakery more famous for its Tartine bread books. I have never had more success with pastry recipes than those in Tartine. I can comfortably blow you away with luscious chocolate pudding pie, quiche fluffier than a cloud, and melty brioche bread pudding because of this book. I’d recommend it for anyone who is serious about baking, with the caveat that it might not be ideal if you aren’t willing to really delve into a complicated recipe. The woman who wrote this book is INTENSE. And her recipes are demanding and precise. They are also exceptional, probably for exactly that reason. (If you want to buy the book and support independent bookstores, Bookshop.org has it on sale right now. And if you want it for even cheaper, Amazon unfortunately has it on even bigger sale).
I’m not going to include the gingerbread recipe here because I think it’s a bit ethically dubious to just copy it directly. I recognize that’s upsetting if you came here for a recipe, but just reply to this email and I can walk you through how to make them offline if that’s something you really want. But the point of my argument isn’t actually that you need to make this specific cookie — it’s that you need to find any cookie you like and just master it. And if you have a recipe you really love and recommend, feel free to share it in the comments for everyone else.
I’m skipping the section on restaurants and bars I’ve enjoyed this week because I’m already in Pennsylvania for the holidays, but will return to that in 2023 (horrifying to type that out). The holidays are an absolutely massive cooking time for me, so you can expect at least one more newsletter this week, probably on homemade egg nog and that brioche bread pudding I mentioned above.
Until then, chag sameach! And please share if you like what I’m doing here, even if you totally hate my thoughts on the cookies. Happy to fight anyone who disagrees.
Here’s me, covered completely in flour and cookie glaze after hours of baking. Get yourself covered in flour for me, and also subscribe!