{"id":1021,"date":"2009-02-10T06:12:00","date_gmt":"2009-02-10T06:12:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2009\/02\/10\/ring-the-bells"},"modified":"2009-02-10T06:12:00","modified_gmt":"2009-02-10T06:12:00","slug":"ring-the-bells","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2009\/02\/ring-the-bells\/","title":{"rendered":"Ring the bells"},"content":{"rendered":"
February, February. I had forgotten how trying it can be.<\/p>\n
The news is this. Those of you who lobbied for a book event in New York, take note: your wish has been granted<\/span>. I will be at Idlewild Books<\/a> on March 18 at 7:00 pm, and I am so, so excited to say that. I expect to see you all there. OR ELSE.<\/p>\n And now, the cookies.<\/p>\n In the headnotes, Jones attributes this recipe to Schrafft\u2019s, a restaurant in Manhattan where, as a child, she used to go for ice cream sodas or a sundae. (I particularly like her description on page 16: \u201cI would sometimes go with a few classmates to Schrafft\u2019s, one of the chain of genteel restaurants where the waitresses were all of Irish descent and dressed parlor-maid-style in black with a starched white apron and headpiece.\u201d Parlor-maid-style! Headpieces! Hire me!) Apparently, whenever she went to Schrafft\u2019s, she would leave with a dozen of their butterscotch cookies, her favorites at the time. But then Schrafft\u2019s closed, and with it went the cookies. Years later, no doubt in a moment of spectacular brilliance, Jones asked James Beard if he remembered those butterscotch cookies, and he not only remembered them fondly, but he called the president of the company and asked for the recipe. I need a James Beard in my life.<\/p>\n But barring that, a few butterscotch cookies is a fine substitute. They may be sort of homely, the brown paper bag of the cookie genre, but they more than make up for it in texture and flavor. They\u2019re thin and crisp – almost wafer-like, thinner than they look in the photo above – with a fine, lacy edge and a freckling of crunchy pecans. The unbaked dough is relatively simple, sweetened with dark brown sugar and punched up with a decent amount of vanilla and salt, but it bakes up to something complex and sophisticated. The finished cookies are sweet but not too sweet, salty but not too much so, fragrant with whatever it is that makes butterscotch smell like butterscotch. I think it\u2019s time for my next dose of antihistamine.<\/p>\n These cookies would be delicious, I imagine, with tea or coffee, or maybe as the bookends of an ice cream sandwich, with vanilla or coffee ice cream. For now, I\u2019m eating them with my therapeutic cocktail of hot water with honey and lemon, and even that isn\u2019t too bad.<\/p>\n<\/a>
I seem to have come down with a cold. I battled it for the better part of last week, and I thought I had won, but yesterday, it sneaked up and kicked me behind the knees, the way I do sometimes to Brandon when we\u2019re in line at the grocery store, only I\u2019m gentle and giggly about it, and this cold is neither. But I wanted to stop by here today anyway, because I have some good news for you. (And some butterscotch cookies! I made a recipe that worked! Ring the bells!)<\/p>\n<\/a>
If I didn\u2019t have a sinusache, or a headache in my sinuses, or whatever the clinical term might be, I might have been able to take a better, less blurry photograph for you. But today was not the day for that. So please take my word for it: those are cookies, not lumpy pennies. They\u2019re the butterscotch cookies from Judith Jones\u2019s memoir The Tenth Muse<\/span><\/a>. When I was reading it, this was the first recipe I dog-eared, even before the c\u00e9leri r\u00e9moulade<\/a>, <\/span>and I don\u2019t know why on earth it took me over a month to make the thing. I certainly won\u2019t wait another month to make it again.<\/p>\n