For the record, no, oh no, it\u2019s not. Winter here is really not bad at all. In fact, it\u2019s quite good. It\u2019s pretty mild, and everything stays green, and you rarely need more than a jacket. And no matter what the weather is up to, misting or thumping or nothing much, it\u2019s always perfect – perfect! –<\/span> for baking cookies.<\/p>\n Oooh-weee<\/span>! I do love winter. Or the cookie-baking part of winter, anyway. That\u2019s what it\u2019s all about. If you\u2019re looking for me anytime soon, just follow the sound of the whirring mixer.<\/p>\n Those who were reading last winter might remember that, come late November, a great cloud of sugar settled over this site. I baked<\/a>, and I baked<\/a>, and then I made some chocolates<\/a>, and then I baked some more. (I also made some Brussels sprouts<\/a>, which don\u2019t technically<\/span> involve sugar, but they were so sweet and creamy that, in my book, they\u2019re akin to candy.) In the past few years, I\u2019ve come to expect it, this funny urge to produce. I\u2019ve never been one for making a mess – you should have seen me tiptoe around the papier-m\u00e2ch\u00e9<\/span> in grade-school art class – but come December, I itch to get my hands into softened butter and sticky doughs. I can\u2019t imagine, as the nights get shorter and darker and colder, not retreating into the kitchen. It\u2019s warm in there, and steamy, and it smells like cinnamon sticks and chocolate. I just like it so much. <\/p>\n But of course, like it or not, a girl can only eat so many cookies. Of necessity, most of my output will wind up neatly stacked, wrapped in cellophane, packed in tins, and shipped out to places near and far. Cookies make the very best gifts, I think, and really, you wouldn\u2019t believe how satisfying it is to march into the post office with an armload of your own production. (Try it! Nothing else compares, I swear.)<\/p>\n In light of all this, it makes good sense, I think, that for the second year in a row, I\u2019ve decided to give only handmade gifts for the holidays. I even took a pledge<\/a>. It\u2019s a little scary to commit to such a thing – and even more to say it aloud here, with all of you out there cracking the whip, ready to hold me accountable – but in practice, it\u2019s really pretty easy. After all, when I say that I plan to give only handmade, I don\u2019t mean only handmade by<\/span> me<\/span>. (That would require a lot<\/span> of cookies, people, more than I\u2019ve got time or sanity for. I sweat just thinking about it.) I\u2019ll be giving about a dozen tins of homemade cookies, but beyond that, there are plenty<\/a> of<\/a> places<\/a> to<\/a> buy<\/a> handmade<\/a> gifts<\/a>, pretty things with history and character and accumulated love. They\u2019re not cookies, but they\u2019re close.<\/p>\n Oh, and speaking of cookies – I know, I know; you\u2019ve been very patient – I\u2019ve got a real whopper for you today. Brandon has officially declared them one of his favorite cookies EVER(!!!), and though you and I both know that he\u2019s a teensy, weensy bit of an exaggerator, in this case, you\u2019d do well to take heed. They\u2019re really tremendous. They might not be the prettiest girls in town, a little speckly and plain, but they make up in flavor – ten-fold, in fact – what they lack in looks.<\/p>\n Which, actually, on second thought, wouldn\u2019t be so bad. They\u2019re crisp, delicate, and intensely buttery, and like any cookie worth its salt, they melt instantly on the tongue. I ordinarily associate buckwheat flour with breakfast and pancakes and blini, but folded into cookie form, it becomes effortlessly sweet, nutty and toasty, as though it were meant to be there all along. The nibs, for their part, bring a nuttiness of their own – something I\u2019d never really noticed before – not to mention a lovely whiff of bitter chocolate, like Toll House\u00ae Morsels for the adult set. They\u2019re ingenious cookies all around: smart and surprising and utterly, utterly <\/span>seconds-worthy. And, heavens to Betsy, would you believe it, they get even better<\/span> with age. That means, you know, that in the time it takes you to bake a few other types of cookies too and pack them all up in a pretty tin and send them to wherever, they\u2019re actually getting tastier<\/span>. Good lord, I love that. Hello, happy holidays. <\/span> If it\u2019s at all possible, I would urge you to make these cookies at least one day before you want to eat them. Their flavor takes time to develop. On the day they\u2019re made, they\u2019re okay, if a little too buckwheaty – but by the second day, they\u2019re amazing. Just amazing.<\/p>\n 1 \u00bc cups unbleached all-purpose flour In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours.<\/p>\n In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter with the sugar and salt until smooth and creamy but not fluffy, about 1 minute. Add the nibs and vanilla, and beat to incorporate, scraping down the side of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. Add the flours all at once, and beat on low speed until just incorporated. The mixture will seem very dry and pebbly at first, but keep beating, and it will slowly moisten and darken (as the buckwheat flour is absorbed) and come together. You\u2019ll know it\u2019s ready when it pulls away from the side of the bowl. The dough will be very thick.<\/p>\n Form the dough into a long (12\u201d or 13\u201d) log about 2 inches in diameter. Because the dough is so thick, I find it easiest to do this by pinching off hunks of dough from the bowl and lining them up on a large sheet of plastic wrap to form a log, then massaging and pressing them together to seal. Wrap well and refrigerate at least two hours, or overnight.<\/p>\n If you have refrigerated the dough overnight, remove it from the refrigerator 1 to 2 hours before you want to bake the cookies. (It\u2019s a dense, rich dough, and once it\u2019s very cold, it takes a little while to soften enough to slice without shattering.) Position racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven, and preheat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone liners.<\/p>\n When the dough feels slightly softened – it should have just a hint of give when you press it with a fingertip – unwrap it and place it on a cutting board. Using a thin, sharp knife, carefully cut the dough into \u00bc-inch-thick slices. Place slices on the prepared baking sheets, spacing each cookie about 1 \u00bd inches apart. (I put about 15 cookies on each sheet; you won\u2019t be able to bake all the dough at once.)<\/p>\n Bake until cookies just begin to color around the edges, about 12 to 14 minutes, rotating the sheet pans from top to bottom and front to back midway through. Transfer to wire racks, and cool the cookies on the baking sheets (or slide the parchment onto the rack to free up the pans). Cool completely before eating or storing. Repeat with remaining dough.<\/p>\n Store the cookies in an airtight container for up to 1 month. (I thought that seemed a bit long, though, so I stashed mine the freezer. I don\u2019t know – Medrich says they\u2019re fine at room temperature, but I didn\u2019t want to risk it. They\u2019re gifts, so I want to be sure they\u2019re good.)<\/p>\n Yield: about 50-55 small cookies<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The rains, oh, the rains. They have come. Yesterday, while those of you on the East Coast were reveling in fresh snow on the windowsill, we woke to rain thumping on the roof. Despite what you might have heard about Seattle, this isn\u2019t our usual kind of weather. Our rain is more of a fine mist, a la di da sort of rain – definitely not a thump-thump. We went out for croissants and grapefruit juice anyway, in spite of the downpour, but as we huddled uncomfortably under a single umbrella – we seem to have lost our second one; it\u2019s going to be a long, wet season – Brandon turned to me and said, woefully, \u201cRemind me – winter…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n![\"\"](\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/09\/bce0b-buckwheatcookies012-21.jpg?w=300\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/09\/d10ca-buckwheatcookies017-11.jpg?w=300\")
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The cookies in question are from Alice Medrich\u2019s newest book Pure Dessert<\/span>, which, if I may be so pushy, I would strongly recommend adding to your Christmas wish list. It\u2019s a gorgeous book, for one thing, brimming with inventive takes on cookies, cakes, and other sweets, and I swear, every recipe that woman touches turns to gold. She\u2019s a gem. (Remember those cocoa cookies<\/a> I wrote about in October? They were hers. See what I mean?) The recipe that follows is ample proof. Medrich calls them Nibby Buckwheat Butter Cookies, but since I have a constitutional aversion to the word nibby<\/span>, I call them buckwheat butter cookies with cocoa nibs. Either way, whatever you call them, get ready, because if you\u2019re not careful, they\u2019ll claim a permanent hold on your kitchen.<\/p>\n
<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
Buckwheat Butter Cookies with Cocoa Nibs<\/span>
Adapted from Alice Medrich\u2019s Pure Dessert<\/span><\/p>\n
\u00be cup buckwheat flour
\u00bd lb. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2\/3 cup granulated sugar
\u00bc tsp. salt
1\/3 cup cocoa nibs
1 \u00bd tsp. vanilla extract<\/p>\n