All natural, no-sugar peanut and pistachio butter cookies

 

 

I have been seeing recipes for these natural peanut butter cookies around for a while now. When I saw Monet post about them the other day, I knew my time had come. She has a beautiful baby daughter so I knew the recipe would be wholesome, but she is first and foremost a wonderful baker so I was certain these cookies would be really good besides being healthy.

 

That is a must in my book. My idea, and those of you who have been reading my blog for a while have heard me preach this before, is that if you are going to make a dessert or something sweet you might as well go the whole way and make something worth the calories you are ingesting. Otherwise, if you are on a health kick or trying to lose a few pounds, skip dessert altogether and have some fruit or yogurt instead.

 

 

 

 

 There are cases, however, when this does not apply, like feeding your kids afterschool snacks that are so good they won't really be able to tell they are naturally sweetened and full of wholesome ingredients.

 

So even though I still stand by my belief that a chocolate fudge cake should be a buttery, sweet, dense affair, if the result of a recipe is a lovely tasting cookie that satisfies a craving without going way overboard, why not?

 

  

 

  

With this batch of cookies I finished the jar of pistachio paste I told you about in my last post. I also used up that almost empty jar of peanut butter I had lying around for more time than I care to remember. It worked out perfectly, since I didn't have enough of either to make a whole batch of just one kind, and how do you split an egg in half?

 

Both cookies are delicious because they are so incredibly full of nutty flavor and they are just sweet enough, with that touch of salty that keeps you wanting more.

 

 

 

See how chewy these are on the inside? Mmmmmh...

 

 The peanut butter cookies are crumbly and dense, perfect to have with a cup of coffee or a big glass of milk. The pistachio cookies have a completely different texture, moist and chewy and rich. They are sweeter because I had added some sugar to the paste (ok, so there is a little sugar in the pistachio cookies, but if you want to make these 100% without sugar, pistachio butter would work just as well) and are fabulous with a cup of unsweetened tea in  my book. The different texture is the result of several factors: i) I used more pistachio paste than PB because I wanted to finish the jar, ii) the pistachio paste was not as dense as the PB, iii) the pistachio cookies baked as long as the others but they were a bit bigger in size.

 

To make the two different batches, I followed Monet's basic instructions but divided the egg mixture into two bowls. Then I added the different nut pastes into each and split the dry mixture between the two. It makes for a little extra work and more bowls to wash but this way you won't end up with a huge amount of cookies if you are making both. If making just one kind, use a whole cup of the nut butter of choice and use just one bowl for dry ingredients and one for wet ingredients.

 

 

 

 

Chewy cinnamon oatmeal cookies and musings

 

We have been blessed by a beautiful September. The sun has been shining almost every day and the kids have been spending the warm afternoons in the square by their school with their friends. They play ball and Chinese jump rope, they climb up the school fence and draw on the pavement with colored chalk. In the mornings and evenings, however, the air is undeniably chillier and on my way to work I have started noticing fallen leaves and open chestnut burrs on the bike lane.

 

Fall is in the air and as I start pulling out our duvets from their summer hiding places and sorting through the kids' winter clothers, I can't help but feel drawn towards the kitchen. I am craving all things autumn: warm oatmeal, cinnamon, apple pies and pumpkin soup.

 

Over the week end I baked my first batch of cookies in a while, and I have been bringing them to my kids as a snack everyday after school.

 

As I was mixing the ingredients I thought about some things I had heard over the week. Stories that once again made reminded me that there are extraordinary women and men everywhere, not just on the cover stories of magazines.

 

 

Perhaps I should rephrase that. There are ordinary people everywhere doing extraordinary things. Mothers and fathers who work, who lead hectic lives, yet still manage to make a difference; people who are quietly fighting demons, yet do their thing better and with more passion and energy than I have most of the time.

 

Like my friend who has two kids of her own and a job and will be welcoming a child from the highly contaminated areas around Chernobyl into her home for five weeks in October. These yearly visits help lower the radioactive levels in the childrens' bodies and the healthy and uncontaminated food they eat helps further boost their immune systems. The families participating in this project are lending a helping hand whilst offering their own children a unique opportunity of intercultural exchange.

 

 

 

Or the two families in my child's class who recently adopted siblings at an age when the large majority of couples would not take in a child, let alone two or three.

 

Or this other woman I know (but apparently less than I thought I did) who has a job, a husband who travels and a gaggle of noisy, cute children. I always marvel at her appearance, not because she is dressed up to the nines or perfectly coiffed and accessorized, but because she always smiles and is surrounded by a positive aura. If she feels tired or frustrated like I often do with my two kids, you certainly can't tell. Other moms are constantly asking her how she does it all and I have often wondered how long it would take for her to stop smiling and tell them to shut up. Then I found out (not from her, might I add) that she has been fighting harder battles than getting her toddler to wear the shirt she put out for him, which is probably why her smile is of the most genuine kind, because she appreciates life in its every nuance. Or maybe that is just the way she is, maybe she just has a solar personality. Who knows?

 

 

 

 

What do we really know about the many people we come across every day, in our ordinary dealings? Not much really. It is so easy to wait by the school entrance with a bunch of moms and dads and just make assumptions about them and their lives. Maybe a sentence you overheard out of context or something as silly as a pair of shoes or a necklace creates an image in your mind of a person or family you really know nothing about. What do we know about their true story?

But this is a whole new topic. Forgive me for taking you for a ride down my stream of consciousness. My point is, when we take the time to get to know people better, we not only become better people ourselves, we also learn that the extraordinary exists in the most ordinary places. So look around and let yourself be inspired daily. I know I am.

 

 

 

Florentine lace cookies and almond brittle ice cream

 

 

 

 

 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

With every step I get closer. And with every step I go farther.

Closer to home, farther from her.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Just keep running. Keep your mind on your breathing, on the beautiful moon, on the vans delivering boxes and boxes of goods to stores.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My watch reads 6.35am. If I run a little faster, I might just make it home before she gets into the taxi to leave. Maybe, but probably not. I know her well enough to be pretty certain that she is already downstairs with her luggage, waiting. As soon as the taxi arrives, she will get in and they will drive away.

So just keep your rhythm, stay with the others, chit chat about your day. Get rid of your blues by keeping your body and mind busy.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

As I approach my street, I look over to see if the taxi is there. It isn't, as I suspected. It is 6.40am on the dot, the time the taxi was due, but I know they always come early hoping to make and extra buck or two. They left, she is on her way to catch her plane.

 

 

 

I run on, no point going home right away anymore. I still have five minutes to spare. I watch the sky turn from pink to grey-blue. Then I say good bye to my running companions and sprint across the street.

Thump, thump, thump.

I enter the apartment. It is dark and quiet. The kids and F are sleeping behind closed doors but it feels empty. I smell her perfume, or something more subtle, perhaps her face cream? I glance into her room, see the tousled sheets. She has been gone for so little that her pillow might still be warm, but probably not. I smile remembering how much I had to insist last night for her to leave the bed undone... no bed making allowed before 7am when you have a flight to catch.

I am sad I missed her on my way back from my morning run. I would have loved to have said goodbye again. I am glad I missed her on my way back from my morning run.  Good byes are hard.

It does not matter who you are or what you have achieved in your life, whether you have a career, whether you have won a Nobel prize, whether you are a mother, a father, a husband or a wife... when you are with your mother you are a daughter, you are a son, you are her child.

It takes time to readjust, to go back to being an adult with responsibilities and a family of your own, to protecting others instead of feeling protected.

We spent some lovely days together, the two of us alone and the two of us with my children and F.

We spoke, we laughed, we remembered, we ate, we drank. We went to museums and shopping.

We spent a decent amount of time in my kitchen chatting, looking through recipes and planning meals. I cooked, she watched and took note. She researched and suggested and I listened.

I may have mentioned before that growing up my mother was not a woman to wear an apron and cook up a Sunday roast. Having lunch out and seeing an exhibit was a more normal way for us to spend a Sunday. That does not mean we do not have our share of family favorites or that she does not know how to cook up a feast. And even if I do not have childhood memories of tinkering in the kitchen with her, I have her to thank for my love of good food and cook books, my fearlessness of trying pretty much anything.

We came up with this recipe together (and I created a new Pinterest addict in the process).

This, in short, is how it went:
1. Mom tastes friend's failed (friend's words, not mine) delicious cookies and is reminded of her love of florentines.
2. Mom starts obsessing about florentines.
3. We decide to dedicate an afternoon to baking together.
4. We make florentines, love them, but both agree they should have baked a little darker.
5. I want to show off my ice cream making skills and machine to her.
6. I decide to crumble the florentines and use them in said ice cream.
 

  

 

The florentines were truly delicious on their own, but the ice cream was sublime: each custardy, rich spoonful studded with crunchy morsels of caramelized nuttines. I am sorry I did not get a better picture of it, just to get your taste buds going, but there was none left the next day to photograph in day light.

Baci di dama

 

 

This morning we woke up to our first snowfall here in Milan. It started last night and hasn't stopped yet. The city still looked like a winter wonderland when I left for the office before seven this morning but that is changing rapidly as the snowflakes get heavier and the snow turns wetter and dirtier with each passing hour.

 

 

7:20 on Instagram

 

From my office window

Il Duomo di Milano (under the snow and under construction)

 

I can't wait to start my week end with a cozy family meal and perhaps a movie. That is, if I survive the elementaty school outdoors Christmas market and manage to stay awake after less than five hours sleep and a mild hangover following our office Christmas dinner last night.
 

 

 

 

On the topic of office parties, I am very glad I was not the one who downed four glasses (not shots, glasses my friends) of grappa after prosecco, red wine and moscato. And then proceeded to give a long and embarassing emotional speech on friendship to the table (more than two dozen of us) that was recorded on several phones and will be sent to everyone via email before the day is over. And then went on to unsuccessfully hit on some ladies at the neighboring table who were having a perfectly enjoyable evening before he came along. And then loudly told one of our colleagues about how their attraction for each other was undeniable. Nope, glad I was not in his shoes this morning.

 

Then again, when it comes to shoes, he has a history of drinking champagne out of the shoes of his co-workers at Christmas parties and I would be lying if I said his performance hasn't become part of the yearly fun.

 

 

 

Do you have an office Christmas party? Any funny stories to tell?

 

As Christmas draws closer here is another idea for all those Christmas cookie swaps or a great bite-sized cookie for your guests. Or are you simply looking for a gluten free recipe?

 

Baci di dama were first created over a century ago in the city of Tortona, in Piedmont. The name, lady's kiss, probably originates from the cookie's resemblance to pursed lips. The recipe is easy and straightforward, if a little time consuming. And I finally found a way to use my stash of rice flour (why on earth this recipe never came up on my Italian Google search I know not).

 

 

 

 

 It had never occurred to me to bake these, after having had them a million times, until David recently posted about them.

In Italy they do things really traditionally, so I stuck to the original recipe, but you could use Nutella instead of bittersweet chocolate for the filling if you want to kick up the hazelnut ratio or if you are looking for a way to save some time. I read several recipes, some of which use almonds instead of hazelnuts, others that add cocoa powder or orange zest to the dough.

 

 

Ingredients

140gr/1 1/4 cups hazelnuts, toasted and skinned

140gr/1 cup rice flour (but you can use all purpose flour too)
100gr/3 1/2 oz. room temperature butter, in pieces
100gr/1/2 cup sugar
a pinch of salt
55 gr/2 oz. semisweet chocolate, chopped and melted

Pulse the hazelnuts in a food processor until very fine. Mix the ground nuts with the rice flour in a bowl. Add the cut up butter and then the sugar and salt. Mix the ingredients with your hands until the butter is completely incorporated and until the dough is smooth and holds together. 

 

Divide the dough into three parts, or more if the dough cracks while rolling it out, and roll each piece until about 2cm/ 3/4-inch  thick. Chill the rolled out dough on parchment paper in the fridge or freezer until firm.

 

Preheat the oven to 160ºC/325ºF and line two baking sheets.

Take one log of dough out at a time and cut them into equal bite/marble-sized sized pieces and delicately roll them (they tend to crack) into balls. Place them on the baking sheet leaving a little space between them. Proceed in the same way with the other dough logs.

 

Bake the cookies for 10-14 minutes, rotating them midway. The tops should be lightly golden.

While you let them cool, melt your chocolate in a double boiler. Put a small drop of melted chocolate (less than you think you will need, trust me) on the flat side of one cookie and then press the flat side of another cookie onto it, sandwiching them.

 

Place the filled cookies on a cooling rack until the chocolate is set.

 

The cookies will keep for more than you will possibly manage to save them in an airtight container.

 

 

Whisky Christmas log with chocolate chips, cranberries and marron glacés

The holidays are right around the corner and there are just no more free slots in your calendar for yet another social engagement: there's the office party, the elementary school fundraiser, the pre-K recital and party, the last minute Christmas drinks with old colleagues, the dinner with close friends, the cocktail with your pilates buddies and the afterdinner toast with those other friends you only see once a year in December. No to mention lunch with the girls and the charity bake sale you agreed to help out with.

As if Christmas in itself does not involve enough binging, we stuff our faces all the way through December and suffer a hang over or two in the process.

 

What is it about the holiday season that makes everyone act like they will never be seeing each other again? Most of us live in the same city, perhaps just blocks away from each other, and we will probably bump into each other at the supermarket in our yoga pants at least a few more times before the year is over. Ok, so this year may be an exception if the Mayas have any say, but it is just the exception that confirms the rule: life will pretty much be the same as the day before when you wake up on the 26th or next January 1st, so why all the craziness?

In Italy the holiday season is all about eating dry, mass produced pandoro and picking out the candied peel from panettone while balancing a glass of bad quality, often too sweet spumante with a smile stamped on your face. The good part is the homemade crema al mascarpone that at least one member of each family is usually famous for.

I also remember many a Christmas holiday in Sweden during which the initally greatly anticipated and delicious Julbord became the fodder of nightmares as the days passed. By the fifteenth Julsbord I ate in seven days I was dreaming of bowls herring and ris a la malta hunting me down in the snow.

I know that wherever you are, you are being tormented by something spicy or sweet, just in a different guise. Stale stollen? Sorry sorrel? Boring bunuelos? Terrible turron? I want to know more!
  

Here is something you can make to bring to a party or to wrap up as a gift. I guarantee, it is anything but bland, dull or plain. It is right up there with chewy dark gingerbread, spicy and warming mulled wine and the most wonderfully studded Christmas pudding you can conjure up in your mind.

I tweaked the original recipe (from this blog, which is full of great recipes and stories) using marrons glacées and dried cranberries because cherries are not a favorite (to say the least) in our home but I still thought red was essential for the Christmas feeling. You can mix in figs, dates, apricots or any kind of nut. It is a great way to use up odds and ends in your pantry, a more traditional version of a Monster cookie or an Everything bagel. The end result was delicious, truly addictive and it took me under two hours to make, from beginning to end (cooling and setting included because I used the freezer). The recipe makes six logs: I brought three to a dinner party and pretty much ended up eating the other three myself, when no one was looking.

Walnut polvorones

As good as my mood was on Friday, my sinus infection got much worse on the week end, to the point that I had to resort to some (albeit pretty mild) pain killers. And I spent a lot of time under a towel with my head over a steaming bowl of water and baking soda.

But I had a busy week end planned and no intention of skipping any of the social engagements I had been looking forward to. 

First of all last week the Salone Internazionale del Mobile was held in Milan, the yearly international furniture and design fair that attracts droves of people from all over the world. The main event takes place in the Fiera outside of the city, but for years now the event has started spreading into the city. For a week the town is alive with a buzz, even more so than during the fashion weeks. Every other building host exhibits, installments or events until late into the evening that are often open to the public. It is customary to walk around town and look at what is happening in the world of design, visiting everything from the showrooms of the best known brands to collective exhibits of young, up-and-coming designers and students with their alternative take on living spaces and objects. Music plays, crowds bustle in and out of courtyards following the banners that indicate spaces dedicated to the Fuori Salone (literally Outside of the Fair), which display bizarre creations and lights to attract people like moths.

Like last year, we headed to some of the more alternative areas with the children and spent a nice morning browsing through the beautiful, often thought provoking and sometimes downright ugly creations. The designers are usually willing to talk and explain their idea, the concept behind the object they are presenting and many are more than willing to have children observe and experience their products. The University of Gothenburg, in particular, sponsored a project called Play in Progress, where young designers created furniture remembering their take on it as children. The people at the stand were only too happy to photograph and let our children slide down the coffee table/slide, draw on their double-panel cabinet, hide behind the white curtain that concealed a world of hidden animals on the reverse side and play with the colored strings attached under the dining table (a fun way to entertain kids during long, boring grown up dinners).

Another perk of the week end was my mother in law’s visit. We were all very excited to spend some time together. This also meant F and I could go out to a last-minute dinner organized by friends (who obviously don’t have kids). My dear friend S commented I must have been pretty desperate to get out considering the pain I was in. True. That is when I popped the first pain killer. No sinus infection was going to keep me home with that kind of an opportunity. We had a surprisingly good Mexican meal (for Italian standards, where Mexican is usually synonym for Tex Mex only) and two huge pitchers of passion fruit frozen margaritas… and no worries Mom, I took the medication long before my first drink so it was pretty harmless… but I did warn my dining companions that if I started acting weird they should just take me home. ;o)

Before dinner F and I took a walk in the area, whcih was almost a second home to us in our wilder days… it felt strange yet so familiar to see throngs of people out so late and it made me feel alive and happy. And lemme tell you, you know you haven’t been out for a while when the night vendors are selling Chinese crap that you have never seen before.  

I made these cookies to bring to a get-together on Sunday with a bunch of friends with kids to wish my dear friend C good luck for her labor induction (she ended up giving birth to a healthy baby girl Tuesday at dawn).

I saw these a while back on a Scarletta Bakes, a blog I adore because of the great recipes, the photography and the fact that she always has me laughing out loud. I bookmarked them because I fell in love with them the minute I saw them. They are as delicious and crumbly and buttery as they look. They are quick and simple (my favorite two words, I know, but so true) and you can make them in two steps if you are busy. Also, you cannot but help getting a little excited when you coat them with your finger tips in all that powdered sugar, making you feel like an authentic Andalusian or Mexican abuela.

Chocolate mousse cake (gluten free)... or chocolate mousse

Hello?

Anybody out there?

Hoooooney, I'm hooooome!

Thought I was eaten by a bear in the mountains? Was snowed in (a concrete possibility given the weather we had over Easter)? Hit by an avalanche?

Sort of.

Snow? No.

Boiled eggs? Yes.

Dye, stickers, baskets? Yes.

Chocolate eggs, bunnies, chicks and any other barnyard animal you can conjure? Yes.

Bathing suits, t-shirts, snow suits, ski boots? Yes.

Diapers, dummies, bibs, baby clothes? Yes.

(no, I am not pregnant, in case you were wondering)

Work? Yes.

More work? Yes.

Kleenex? Yes.

Let's just say that after a few pretty intense and difficult months in the office involving unions and lawyers, we reached a turning point last week. Good for some, better for others, worse for a few unfortunately. It has been tough and it is over now, but it will take a while to get back to normal.

Then I had a lovely but unexpected houseguest staying with us.

Then we left for the mountains and, although really nice, it as usual involved way too many eggs and suitcases.

I came back to the tail of the office drama, and an extra pretty big work project on the side.

And a horrendous cold, the kind you get once every 18 months that leaves you in a wheezing, oozing, coughing, lump on the floor.

Oh and then, minor detail, I had my best friend's baby shower on Saturday.

So, yes, I was hit by an avalanche of sorts.

I still have a bit of a cold, we had a really lovely time in the mountains and I shocked my friend out of her maternity compression socks when a few out-of-towners showed up at her surprise baby shower. And let me add that, even if many of us didn't know each other, we did not need the tahini, peanut butter, Nutella and green curry paste filled diapers or the toilet paper to break the ice.

So all is well that ends well.

Once again, Nigella Lawson saved the day when it came to making some goodies for the shower.

I used her cut-out biscuit recipe to make pink glazed bear and rocking horse shaped cookies.*

I also made her chocolate mousse cake, because you can't put 12 girls in a room and not make something chocolate, right?

I loved this recipe the minute I read it for three reasons:

1) I had tons of Easter chocolate that I was dying to use up.

2) I loved that you can get two desserts out of one recipe: if you bake it with a water bath you get this lovely cake, but if you simply put the chocolate mixture in the fridge to set, it is a luscious chocolate mousse. I went for the cake because for obvious reasons, I didn't want to serve raw eggs.

3) Two of my guests were gluten intolerant and this made for a perfect dessert.

It is quick to prepare and quite forgiving: I overbeat the egg whites and added in the milk chocolate later without a hitch.

* the horses were finished with strawberry sugar a dear friend/family member makes along with a whole range of amazing sugars and salts. She just sent me an incredible sample box and some recipes to try them with, so you will be hearing more of her. People of NYC, I will let you know where you can buy her products asap. They are absolutely out of this world, the most incredible and enticing flavors, colors and combinations you could imagine.

Chewy, ginger cookie bars

Dear Santa,

This letter will probably get lost among the hundreds of thousands that have started filling your Inbox in recent days. With my luck, it will probably end up in your Spam folder.

It is probably safer to do things the old-fashioned way: address it to Saint Nicholas (I know, I know, only your mom and few million German children call you that these days but I think it suits you) and stuff it into a boot on December 5th the way I did when I was a child, before computers became the norm. I mean, let’s face it Nick, countless generations of children did this successfully for decades before me and their letters never got lost.

First of all, before I forget, I don’t mind if you put a few tangerines and walnuts in my kids’ boots together with the candy this year. I know I used to complain about it when I was a child, but now that I am a mother, I totally get your point.

Yes, don’t you worry, I promise I will remind my children that putting out Daddy’s snow boots instead of their rain boots will not increase the amount of candy they get. It is good to know that you and I are on the same wave length about these things.

I will also refrain from telling them our best kept secret, that you are a sweet old man with a good heart and that you would never really leave a branch in their boot instead of candy if they haven’t behaved sometimes. I will however admit that it is a very helpful threat in the weeks preceding December 6th and I intend to take full advantage of it. Whoever started that rumor was most definitely a Mom.

 

 

Oh, another thing. My little girl will be writing her first Christmas letter this year. If you have any problem deciphering what she wrote, please let me know. I will be happy to help.

 

 

I am doing my best to keep up with all the traditions of this season and to make you feel at home when you come with your sleigh full of gifts. We will be decorating a tree on the week end, advent calendars are sitting on the kitchen counter, Christmas music is playing on loop on our Ipod sound system. I bought two really pretty Christmas tablecloths yesterday (ok, I know you didn’t ask for them specifically but they were soooo cute!) and my daughter picked out the new Christmas decoration that we buy every year as per tradition for the tree. We will be setting up our tiny hand carved wooden Crib under the tree and reading A Christmas Carol before bedtime. My daughter may even read a few sentences this year. Next week we will be in Germany to visit family, the Christmas markets and to celebrate the third Sunday of Advent. And yes, I have already pulled out our Christmas cookie cutters and made the first Yuletide-inspired recipe just for you, so you have something to nibble on when you stop by next week to pick up the letters.

 

 

Last but not least, I promised my kids I would tell you we will be in the mountains for Christmas, just in case you forget and come here instead. You should be able to find a snow covered roof to land on with the reindeers pretty easily but I forgot to ask if they had a chimney when I rented the apartment. If worse comes to worse I will open the balcony door for you.

I am so looking forward to your visit. I send you a big hug (are grown ups still allowed to hug you?).

 

 

 

 

 

What is that? My list?

I don’t have any real Christmas wishes: while I was writing you about reading books with my kids, baking cookies, decorating the tree with my loved ones, I realized I have everything I want and need right here in my home.

 

 

But if you really can’t help yourself because you are Santa and it is in your genes, I can always use a book, an accessory, some bling, something food-related…well, you decide.

See you next week!

 

 

Me

Adapted from A full measure of happiness