{"id":1569,"date":"2006-12-05T03:39:00","date_gmt":"2006-12-05T03:39:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2006\/12\/05\/hop-to-it"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:53:59","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:53:59","slug":"hop-to-it","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2006\/12\/hop-to-it\/","title":{"rendered":"Hop to it"},"content":{"rendered":"
The sun set at 4:18 this afternoon. That means that the street lamps outside my office window shuddered ominously to life at ten minutes after three<\/span>, people. Six o\u2019clock this evening was indistinguishable from midnight. I don\u2019t know how it is where you are, but around here it\u2019s very, very dark.<\/p>\n When Brandon moved to Seattle<\/a> last June, he was more than a little apprehensive of all this, and with good reason. No sane person moves to \u201cThe Rainy City\u201d \u2013 or, more fittingly, \u201cThe Rainy and Really, Really Dark City\u201d \u2013 without some reservations. I tried to soothe him with the usual consolations \u2013 it doesn\u2019t really <\/span>rain so much as sort of mist, and I mean, hey, have you seen <\/span>our summers<\/a>? \u2013 but he wasn\u2019t convinced. I really tried, fellow Seattleites, but it\u2019s not easy to find nice things to say about our wet, stumpy days and long, loooong<\/em> nights. I guess we all have to live them for ourselves, and make our own peace with clouds and damp ankles.<\/p>\n As for me, there is just one thing that keeps my head above water \u2013 no pun intended, I swear \u2013 through these soggy, sloppy months: the kitchen. (That, and the sheer force of will to survive to see next summer.) I mean, hell, when nighttime starts in the late afternoon, how else is a girl supposed to while away the bleak, inky hours? With a pot of soup, that\u2019s how \u2013 or a slow braise, or some butter cookies scented with the cheering zest of this season\u2019s \u201cit\u201d citrus<\/strong>, the Meyer<\/a> lemon<\/a>. In the end, you know \u2013 and at the holidays \u2013 it always comes back to cookies<\/a>.<\/p>\n What we have here is basically a French-style shortbread<\/span>, called a sabl\u00e9<\/span>, or \u201csandy\u201d cookie, for its fine, crumbly texture. This particular specimen, however, gets a gussied up for the holidays, with a sugar collar and a spritz of zest from a Meyer lemon. The hybrid cross of a regular lemon and a mandarin, Meyer lemons are sweeter and less tart than a typical supermarket lemon, with a complex, floral aroma that feels mysterious and familiar<\/span> at the same time. Mixed into a batter and baked, their zest blooms into a delicate, spicy scent that fills the room, and a flavor that makes these cookies damn near impossible to stop eating. With an edgy tinge of salt and a bit of textural intrigue from Turbinado sugar, these will have a space in my Christmas cookie tin for years to come \u2013 assuming, of course, that I can get them packed safely away and into the freezer before I eat them all.<\/p>\n<\/a>
If you haven\u2019t bought a Meyer lemon yet this year, consider these your marching orders. As my dad used to say, hop to it<\/em>! And while you\u2019re at it, make sure that your stock of butter, flour, and sugar is in good shape. You have Christmas presents to bake, by god. And \u2013 lucky you! \u2013 this particular present makes a batch big enough for giving to friends far and wide, and for eating straight from the sheet pan<\/strong> too. It also makes a long, pitch-black night pass pretty painlessly.<\/p>\n