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  • Writer's picturedeborahreinhardt

Luscious jam filling is the star of this quick holiday dessert.


I love food and I love history. Oh, and I love Christmas. Combine these three elements and I there’s no telling how deep into the research rabbit hole I can go. But I will pack a lunch, so it’s all good.


I’ll hazard a guess here and say most busy home cooks staring at their to-do list for holiday food prep do not wonder, “Gee, I wonder why we eat this for the holidays.” But those of us who love getting lost reading about food history (like me) are here to answer that question.


One could write a book about where our holiday food traditions come from—I checked, and there are many—but for this story, let’s look briefly at why fruit is so prominent in a so many holiday foods, like fruitcake, breads, and cookies. Heck, every year, I had an apple and orange in my Christmas stocking, and my Mom told stories of how fruit was often the only gift she’d receive on Christmas.


After Pope Julius I, Rome’s fourth-century bishop, declared Dec. 25 as the official birth date of Jesus, pagan festivals celebrated around the winter solstice over the years melded into the Christian holiday. Interestingly, an ancient pagan customi n the cider-producing areas of England (Somerset, Devon, Herefordshire, Kent, and Sussex) is still practiced. On Twelfth Night, people visit fruit orchards making a ruckus to awaken tree spirits and chase away any evil ones lurking in the winter shadows. We know this practice as wassailing. Before moving to the next orchard, someone places a piece of bread soaked in wassail (the drink) into the apple tree’s branches, thereby ensuring a fruitful harvest next year.


In the Early Middle Ages, Christmas was a quiet time for fasting and prayer that lead up to Epiphany on Jan. 6 when the visit of the Magi to baby Jesus was celebrated. By the High Middle Ages, observances of the 12 Days of Christmas were in full swing. By the 1400s, breads such as panettone, fruitcake, and stöllen were baked for Christmas because dried fruits and sugar were expensive imports and saved for special occasions. Popular dried fruits, in part, included apricots. This fruit today is often seen in the German stöllens sold at traditional Christmas markets in Europe and in lighter recipes for fruitcake.


But fruit-laced baking, of course, is not confined to Christmas traditions. Many Jewish families when celebrating Hanukah serve rugelach cookies. Rugelach, which means “little twists” in Yiddish, originated in Poland’s Jewish communities. Rugelach can be filled with fruit jams, dried fruit and nuts, or even chocolate.


So, back to the apricot bars. This bar cookie was part of our annual holiday baking tradition. I still have the original recipe card in my Grandma’s handwriting. Each year, she’d pull it out of the box and mix up a batch or two.


Like most of the traditions observed during Christmas, our family just “did it” without much discussion, so as a result, I don’t really know why these cookies were always on the cookie platter. Maybe because they were not hard to make; you don’t even have to get out the mixer for this one. I have memories of Mom and Grandma deftly working the kitchen during cookie-baking season in tandem, with Mom in charge of one batch while Grandma started another. That’s probably the biggest reason the apricot bars were made each year, but the romantic in me likes to think it was Grandma honoring our German heritage that made this cookie a family favorite.


The other cool thing about these cookies is you likely have every ingredient already in your pantry. Of course, if you don’t have apricot jam, orange marmalade is an easy swap. You also could use apple or cherry jam and as a bonus, know you’d be keeping with a food tradition that goes back hundreds of years.


 


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  • Writer's picturedeborahreinhardt

Buttery, delicate cookies bring a bit of northern Europe to your holiday.


decorated spritz cookies on a santa plate
Who wouldn't be jolly as St. Nick with spritz cookies on the plate?

Seriously, are these not the cutest cookies you’ve seen? Pudgy and colorful, these delicate cookies can be flavored with either almond, citrus, or simply vanilla extracts. And for me, it’s as though hauling out our old cookie press calls out to the spirits of my Mom and Grandma.


My emotional ties to this recipe are twofold. With roots in Germany and Scandinavian countries—by some accounts as far back as the 16th century—these cookies connect me to my ancestry. It’s not unheard of to think that Reinhardt women may have made these with their families in Germany, where it’s common to have recipes handed down through generations, and for parents to set aside time to make the cookies with their children.


Which is exactly what my family did. Mom and Grandma mixed the dough and operated the cookie press while I got to help decorate the happy little creations. And after a tray or two of plain cookies were baked, Grandma would add in the green food coloring so we could make the wreaths and trees.


Someone hand me a tissue; I need to dab my eye.


But true confession time: I don’t make spritz cookies every year. Like most of you, Christmas baking is a fine balance between time and tradition. When my daughter was young and my Christmas list was focused on fulfilling hers, holiday baking was reduced to me buying a couple cookie mixes and churning out treats after she went to sleep. I’d look lovingly at the family’s vintage Mirro cooking press and its yellowed recipe book in the box, sigh, and move on to the next task.



a vintage cookie press by Mirro
Our Mirro cookie press dates to the mid-1960s.

But this year, as we all grapple with a pandemic and a physically distanced holiday, I really felt the tug to get out the Mirro, turn up the Christmas music, mix up the dough, and get to spritzing. By the way, did you know the name of the cookie (spritz) literally means squirt or “spritzen” in German?


And in keeping with the vintage theme, I used the recipe from the booklet that came with the press, which calls for shortening instead of butter, and I swapped the vanilla extract for almond. I also halved the recipe that made just under two dozen cookies. The dough was pretty crumbly and so I finished mixing it by hand and it came together quickly. I could then separate it into thirds, saving the final portion to color green for the Christmas trees. Note: the recipe card reflects the portions for four dozen.


Surprisingly, it was no struggle working with the cookie press. The first one or two cookies were misshapen before I felt like I was getting the hang of it. Two twists, lift. Two twists, lift.




As I filled each ungreased cookie pan, I remembered the year when I talked Mom into trying an electric press; it did not go well. You need that “human touch” to feel the right amount of dough squeeze through the tube. You may be tempted to line the sheet pan with parchment, but don’t because the cookies won’t release when you lift the press. I tickled me to see the finished cookies didn’t stick or break when removing, and the bottoms browned beautifully.


Another tip: To decorate the cookies, lightly wet a finger and gently brush the top of each cookie with water before adding sprinkles. This helps the sprinkles and candies to stick while baking. The raw cookies stuck to the tray while I gently brushed away excess sugary toppings.


After the cookies cooled, I had to taste one, and it took me back to a holiday many years ago. That delicate crunch and almond flavor was just as I remembered. To be honest, I became a little emotional. That’s how powerful a connector food can be. It was as if my Bubba and Mom were standing with me in my kitchen, smiling and saying, “pretty good, kiddo.”


Pretty good, indeed.


 



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  • Writer's picturedeborahreinhardt

Updated: Dec 2, 2020

St. Louis’ famous mistake lives on with these cookies that are ready in a snap.


round cookies on a glass plate dusted with powdered sugar
Nobody can resist gooey butter cookies, especially when pumpkin and chocolate variations are paired with vanilla.

The gooey butter cake is the world’s most delicious mistake. Yet, a lot of people outside the St. Louis area have never heard of such a thing. Well, pull up a chair, pour yourself a cup of coffee, and listen to the tale.


Like most stories that go way back, there are many versions to this one, but most agree that a baker screwed up a coffee cake recipe in south St. Louis. However, what German bakery this happened at and during which decade (1930s or 1940s) is debated. I think most St. Louisans are content to accept it originated here and the rest is, well, in the details.


This square little cake, when made from scratch, starts with a yeast dough and also includes butter and sugar, followed by the best part—the gooey topping—made with corn syrup, more sugar and more butter. A lot of recipes now use cream cheese and yellow cake mix that purists poo-poo, but there’s nothing wrong with this recipe, especially if it gets a less-than-confident baker in the kitchen and a delicious taste of gooey butter cake in his or her life.


A square of gooey butter cake is a little like a vanilla brownie but with a softer middle, and the top of the cake is dusted with confectioners’ sugar. To the uninitiated, the sweet meter goes way off the chart, but if you grew up on the cake (as I did), there’s no problem.


Most bakeries in St. Louis, including those at local grocery chains, always have gooey butter cake in the case. If you want to go old school, Federhofer’s Bakery in south St. Louis County, Missouri Baking Company on “The Hill” (St. Louis' Italian neighborhood) or McArthur’s Bakery also in south St. Louis County, have the classic gooey butter and all are wonderful. I also liked a company called Gooey Louie that sadly has gone out of business, but they had different gooey butter flavors. Park Avenue Coffee, a cool coffeehouse in historical Lafayette Square and a few other city locations, sells gooey butter made by Ann & Allen Baking Company, which boasts a total of 73 flavors.


The cake recipe is easy to make for home cooks, but these cookies are ridiculously simple, quick, and completely satisfying. You can stick with the traditional vanilla flavor or experiment a bit (chocolate and pumpkin were very tasty).


We're kicking off our month of holiday cookie recipes with these tasty bites. What’s great about these cookies, other than their simplicity, is they are not as sweet as gooey butter cake, but still deliver on the nostalgic flavors of the classic dessert. So, if you’ve ever had gooey butter cake and thought “eh, too sweet for me,” give these a try. Naturally, these cookies would be great any time of year, but I think they provide a nice balance to a tray of holiday sweets. You don’t even need a mixer for these. You will, however, want a glass of cold milk to accompany these.


 



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