It’s 7:30 on Christmas Eve. Grandma and I have already made the Christmas cookies. She watched over me earlier in the week as I lightly rolled the date balls, still warm from the oven, in a thin layer of confectioner’s sugar on the counter top.
The almond crescent cookies took me a few Christmases to master, but on this particular year I had gotten the hang of shaping them without handling them too much. If you heat the dough up with your fingers too often, the dough hardens and the cookies become both hard and brittle. Continue reading
Dangerously Enthusiastic 