There are some days when a bar of chocolate is just too hands off to handle all the crap that life decides to throw at you. There are days when the world seems like it's reeling, drunk or blind, on the edge of some precipice, and the intersection of all this madness centers right over your apartment complex in the form of a soul-sucking, bleak, dreary, masterpiece of a day. When Mellville's damp, drizzly November leaps off the pages and into the December skies of DFW, extreme measures are called for.
And so, with my sister heading into the social crucible that is the Standing Rock protest in North Dakota, an increasingly uncertain political future for my country, a friend back in the hospital, concerns about my family, and facing down the prospect of starting at a new, much scarier job on January 1, on this particularly bleak and drizzly Saturday, I turned to the inimitable Dorie Greenspan to help set things right.
It was time to set up Christmas at Andrew's parents' place, so we broke out the mulled wine and Christmas carols on Spotify, and as Andrew decked the halls with lights and garlands, I took to the kitchen. Furnished with a sparkly shirt, Christmas apron, and Santa hat, creating the deepest dark chocolate rounds, flecked with the most divine bittersweet, rolling and punching out butter-logged sugar cookies into Christmas trees, soldiers, and holly with the nostalgia-laden cookie cutters I grew up with, tending to the long-simmering stew on the stove.
It felt, miraculously, like everything was going to be ok.
These cookies have been on my "to bake" radar for a while, and they fulfilled all of my wildest expectations - as French sables, they are delightfully light, sandy shortbread cookies, but with a chocolate heart as deep as the fudgiest of brownies. Don't overbake these, and don't get too creative - they are perfect. Just be sure to have plenty of milk on hand - you will want it. (They are also well-complemented by a batch of these sugar cookies. Just in case you get inspired and want to make both like I did. They very much benefit by each others' company.)
I think we could all use a little peace right now, and sometimes, when everything else seems like it's falling apart, chocolate can at least serve to get you through the afternoon.
Item: World Peace Cookies
A word on mixing, log rolling and patience: This dough can be different from batch to batch — it always seems to turn out well no matter what, but the inconsistency can be frustrating. I’ve found that it’s best to mix the dough for as long as it takes to get big, moist curds that hold together when pressed and then knead if necessary so it comes together. When you’re rolling it into logs, keep checking that the logs are solid. Again, the dough can be capricious and it may not always roll into a compact log on the first (or second or third) try. Be patient.
Makes about 36 cookies
1 1/4 cups (170 grams) all-purpose flour
1/3 cup (28 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick plus 3 tablespoons (11 tablespoons; 5 1/2 ounces; 155 grams) unsalted butter, cut into chunks, at room temperature
2/3 cup (134 grams) packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup (50 grams) sugar
1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel or 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
5 ounces (142 grams) best-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped into irregular sized bits
Sift the flour, cocoa and baking soda together. (I didn't sift. Still delicious.)
Working with a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, beat the butter and both sugars together on medium speed until soft, creamy and homogenous, about 3 minutes. Beat in the salt and vanilla. Turn off the mixer, add all the dry ingredients and pulse a few times to start the blending. When the risk of flying flour has passed, turn the mixer to low and beat until the dough forms big, moist curds. Toss in the chocolate pieces and mix to incorporate. This is an unpredictable dough (see above). Sometimes it’s crumbly and sometimes it comes together and cleans the sides of the bowl. Happily, no matter what, the cookies are always great.
Turn the dough out onto a work surface and gather it together, kneading it if necessary to bring it together. Divide the dough in half. Shape the dough into logs that are 11/2 inches in diameter. Don’t worry about the length — get the diameter right, and the length will follow. (If you get a hollow in the logs, just start over.) Wrap the logs in plastic wrap and freeze them for at least 2 hours or refrigerate them for at least 3 hours.
When you’re ready to bake: Center a rack in the oven and preheat it to 325 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.
Working with one log at a time and using a long, sharp knife, slice the dough into 1/2-inch-thick rounds. (The rounds might crack as you’re cutting them — don’t be concerned, just squeeze the bits back onto each cookie.) Arrange the rounds on the baking sheets, leaving about 2 inches between them. (If you’ve cut both logs, keep one baking sheet in the fridge while you bake the other.)
Bake the cookies for 12 minutes — don’t open the oven, just let them bake. When the timer rings, they won’t look done, nor will they be firm, and that’s just the way they should be. Transfer the baking sheet to a cooling rack and let the cookies rest until they are only just warm, at which point you can munch them, or let them reach room temperature (I think the texture’s more interesting at room temperature).
Bake the remaining dough.
Eat. Be at peace.
The dough can be refrigerated for up to 3 days or frozen for up to 2 months, although I can't imagine it'll last that long. If you’ve frozen the dough, you needn’t defrost it before baking — just bake the cookies 1 minute longer.
With love, Kat
