I have a best friend. On here I call her Muffin.
Muffin has a history with illness; a much more storied, dangerous, and exacting one than mine. Our friendship began when our bodies were strong and our spirits unstoppable. We’re so thankful now that we were reckless, and lived dangerously and fully back then. Now we’re so careful, so precise, and so used to premeditating physical complications and energy black holes. This recipe is from her, and for her.
I’ve never had a “real” hush puppy.
When you’ve been off gluten and cow-dairy pretty much for twenty years, there are things you miss. I don’t know the luxurious treat that is thick vanilla pastry cream oozing from a fluffy pastry casing that they call an eclair. I couldn’t tell you the proper viscosity of a real creme brûlée (though my versions make me happy). And I have no childhood memories of tasting a fresh-outta-the-fryer hush puppy.
Thankfully I’m an adult now, dammit, and I can make whatever I want!
Enter Chef Amanda Cohen and her Dirt Candy cookbook.
I’ve made these classic crinkly peanut butter cookies every holiday season for as long as I can remember. As a child, I’d help unwrap Hershey Kisses and plop them onto still-warm cookies that were made by the hundreds in my family home. For years they were (by far) my favorite out of the many on my mother’s holiday plate and, as an adult, friends request these more than any other from my own kitchen.
In order to “save my spoons” (see here and here for what that means), I’ve cut back on baking a lot in the past year or so. But this Christmas I was gifted with such kindness that I popped into the kitchen to make them as a “thank you” to someone who particularly enjoys them. Someone who has shown me not a passing bit of kindness, but one that is sustained and repeatedly generous. One that, especially during this beautiful but stressful time of the year, I’ve greatly appreciated. One that was folded into another kindness, and two very special people to thank with something sweet.
I guess it’s fitting that my 300th post features the most New Yorky of cookies; the Black and White cookie.
Much of this blog has focused on my living in New York: balancing random jobs as a performer, writer and baker; dragging standing mixers to the apartments of boyfriends past; working for a local gluten-free magazine or meeting famous chefs; and eventually refocusing my work to bake less and write more. Yes, these cookies are not an adaptation of a chef that I know or am working with, but they are quintessentially New York.
And insanely delicious.