Spring Edition Rice Krispies Squares

My family has come down with the dreaded annual spring cold. All four of us stayed home yesterday with fevers, sore throats, headaches, and stuffy, runny noses. So I have more-or-less been subsisting on:

Smoothies. Specifically, banana-strawberry smoothies. I know serving rustic drinks in mason jars is trendy at the moment, but that’s not why I do it: this kind of lid is also infinitely practical. We’ve suspended the “no drinks outside of the kitchen” rule while everybody is sick, since I’m happy when I can get any calories into the kids at all. I can give drink containers like these to them without worrying as much that they’ll spill sticky beverages everywhere. As a bonus, I bought the lids on clearance back when Target was going out of business in Canada, so they were quite cheap. I always have jars around anyway, since I do a fair amount of canning come the end of summer. Win/win, really.

Spring Edition green and blue Rice Krispies

So yes, about the Kellogg’s Rice Krispies squares. Tomorrow is the last day before Easter weekend, and my kids wanted to bring treats in for their classes. For Thing 2, that means cake pops to eat and recycled crayons to bring home. Thing 1 has some spring-themed erasers and pencils to give to her class, but we didn’t have enough cake pops to share. Well, I honestly didn’t feel like doing anything too complicated last night, so Rice Krispies squares it was.

I had purchased the Spring Edition green and blue Rice Krispies cereal a few weeks ago with the intention of making egg-shaped treats like I’ve seen in a number of tutorial videos. It would be fun to do with the kids! If, of course, the kids hadn’t gotten sick. So instead I waited for the munchkins to go to bed, and then made the microwave version of the recipe clipped from the inside of a Rice Krispies box. I was a little worried that they wouldn’t turn out, since I have in the past burned the marshmallows (when using the stove-top variation) and somehow made rock-hard squares that had to be binned because you could potentially chip a tooth on them. I’m happy to report that this time they turned out fine. Good thing, too, because I do not have the energy for another desperate late-night grocery run this week.

I just hope that Thing 1 and Thing 2 are well enough to go into school. I am well-prepared, so that almost guarantees that they’ll need to stay home.

Cake Pops

After the confetti cupcake disaster on Saturday night, a friend of mine suggested that I use the broken/misshapen homemade cupcakes to make cake pops. Despite my disappointment, I had saved the cupcakes — they still tasted great! So I gave it a go.

I had never made cake pops before, and honestly I had no idea how it was done. Based on the gadgets I’d seen in the stores, I thought you cooked them as little spherical cakes, kind of like a doughnut hole. After my friend’s suggestion I Googled, and what do you know? Cake pops are essentially cake meatballs.

I followed the How To Make Cake Pops Easily tutorial on Divas Can Cook, and the further into it I got, the more like meatballs they seemed. The colours of the cake I was using didn’t help; it really reminded me of ground poultry. Basically, you take a cake (your “meat” and “spices” and “filler”), crumble it (i.e. grind it up), mix it with a bit of frosting as a binding agent (the “eggs”), and shape it into balls. I’ve made enough meatballs that once I realized the similarities, muscle memory pretty much took over. Once I got to the decorating stage, though, it was new territory.

They’re definitely not perfect cake pops. They’re not spherical, the chocolate coating is sometimes lumpy, and the sprinkles aren’t artfully arranged. And forget fancy decorating; I just don’t have the skills to make them into flowers or Christmas balls or Easter eggs. But they’re a darned sight better than the cupcakes I started with. I consider this a success, especially for a first try.

To be honest, the kindergarten kids who are going to eat them are going to smear them all over their faces and clothes anyway. It doesn’t matter that the chocolate is hard, they’ll find a way.

Confetti Cupcakes

Yesterday was Thing 2’s birthday party — not her birthday itself, which is unluckily squished in between Christmas and New Year’s, but her party. With all of the other affairs going on that time of year, her celebration with friends gets pushed back to the late winter or early spring. As a family we make a big fuss of her on her actual birthday, but this way she gets to pick the date of her party for a time when she can feel special in her own right, and not just “squeezed in”.

So the plan this year, as per her request, was to make confetti cupcakes, the ones with multicoloured sprinkles mixed directly into the batter.

I found the Homemade Funfetti Cake recipe on Sally’s Baking Addiction, which called for a lot of sprinkles. 2/3 of a cup of sprinkles — and I doubled the recipe. I basically emptied out all the multicoloured sprinkles in my stash into one measuring cup.

So many sprinkles! Perfect, I thought, for what Thing 2 wanted. Sadly, it didn’t work out.

It’s hard to tell from this picture since by this point the cupcakes were all piled on top of each other after they were cooled, but almost all of the cupcakes stuck to the muffin pans and left huge chunks of themselves behind. And yes, I used non-stick muffin pans and sprayed them with cooking spray.

Those few cupcakes that didn’t joined their broken brethren in falling apart ended up slowly deflating and collapsing, as Eddie Izzard would put it, “like a flan in a cupboard”. They all just… Fell. They were too soft and refused to hold their shape. When the first pan came out like this, I thought perhaps they weren’t cooked the whole way through, but upon testing they were definitely done. They even tasted good! I baked the second pan for a few minutes longer than the first, thinking perhaps it was a problem with my oven. But I checked the internal temperature with a secondary thermometer, and it was spot-on. Either I messed up somewhere (did I forget an ingredient or something?), or there’s something up with the recipe. Perhaps there are just too many sprinkles? They’re structurally sound when cold, but when they melt, they’re sugary mush.

At this point it was 11:00pm the night before the party, and I was something on par with the Great Cake Disaster of my 16th birthday (pictured above). In retrospect, that one was caused by not levelling my cakes. The weather was also too hot (30°C or so) and humid (and us with no air conditioning) for the chocolate buttercream frosting to keep the cake from sliding over. My friends referred to it as the “Leaning Tower of Poo”. At least the flavour was okay.

I ran out to the only 24-hour grocery store around here and grabbed myself a box of Duncan Hines Confetti White Cupcake Mix, along with a package of Reynolds StayBrite Easy Release Baking Cups. No way was my second batch of cupcakes going to fail! And I needed to get some sleep before party day.

As promised by the packaging, the Confetti Cups went off without a hitch. They released easily from the baking cups, they didn’t fall, and they were done in record time. I also made them with the “lower fat recipe” on the back of the box, which didn’t seem to affect the cupcakes at all, except nutritionally. Taste-wise, the Homemade Funfetti Cupcakes were definitely better (quite yummy, actually), since the Confetti Cups had that boxed-cake-mix tang. But I needed and end product that would hold up structurally.

A couple of weeks ago I picked up some little kits from the grocery store to add to our stash assortment of cake decorations. The cupcake above was decorated mostly with the Twinkle Baker Décor Deco Bonbon Little Kittens set.

For the kids who aren’t interested in cutesy stuff, I also picked up the Twinkle Baker Decor Deco Bonbons Friends kit. Given the age of the kids at the party, I have no idea why I assumed that they would decorate their cupcakes more-or-less the same way as on the packaging. I should know better by now.

The creature above was one of my favourite of the guests’ creations. She showed it off to me, and then promptly ate its face off.

And this last one was Thing 2’s cupcake. You can usually tell which one is hers by the incorporation of Halloween-y elements. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.

So happy birthday (party) to my beloved Thing 2! I hope you take away fond memories of this day, and that the rest of your year is fabulous.

Maple Mustard Glazed Salmon & Maple Barbecue Sauce

Because maple syrup is, well, a syrup, most people think of it first in sweet dishes like candy or fudge or cookies. However, it does add a fantastic note to savoury dishes as well.

One of the simplest recipes of which I have eaten a great deal — first prepared by my mother, later by me — is Maple Mustard Glazed Salmon from Jo Cooks. It’s basically four ingredients mixed together and poured over salmon, then baked. It’s delicious enough to serve at a dinner party, but quick enough to whip up as a busy evening meal. Maple goes well with mustard; not too surprising, really, given that honey mustard has a similar flavour profile and has been a grocery store standard for years.

Yesterday I served the salmon with one of my favourite last-minute dishes: fresh linguine (although you can use any kind of pasta, fresh or dried) with cooked spinach, cream cheese, and a little salt and pepper. I also added half an avocado on the side; my kids will eat avocado by preference over just about any other fruit or vegetable.

Maple is also great as part of a barbecue sauce. Lots of commercial sauces, such as Diana Sauce (a Kraft product) and President’s Choice, come in a maple variant. But it’s really easy to whip up one of your own! There are many recipes available online, but I am particularly fond of the no-cook Maple Barbecue Sauce on page 238 of The New Canadian Basics Cookbook (1999). It’s tangy, sweet, and just acidic enough to tenderize a tough steak if left to marinade. I wanted to fire up the grill and use this sauce yesterday, but the chilly downpours and the snow still freezing the barbecue cover to the ground made this inadvisable. I am sure that my jar of sauce will get a good workout over the coming months.

Maple Bacon Cornbread

Continuing this week’s theme of maple dishes, last night I tried out the Buttermilk Maple Cornbread with Flax recipe on page 43 of Anita Stewart’s Canada (2008). A number of the recipes I have used lately have come from this book, which I am greatly enjoying. I need to return it to the library shortly, so I have to optimize my use! Now that I’ve baked this cornbread, I have used every maple-based recipe in the book, with the sole exception of the crepe recipe on page 17. Between the buckwheat pancakes and the crepes I’ve made lately, I just didn’t feel the need to make yet another style of pancake.

The cornbread is only lightly sweetened with maple syrup, so the flavour is much more subtle than something like a pouding chômeur. Despite the syrup content, it is not a dessert quick bread; it would actually be a great accompaniment to roasted or barbecued meats, especially saucy ones. The top is sprinkled with chopped crispy bacon pieces, adding little bursts of extra flavour, although I think this bread would be great without the topping as well.

I almost burned the cornbread while baking it; I was warned by the smell, and I got it out of the oven just in time. My timer for the minimum recommended time hadn’t even gone off yet! I think that the blame for that can be placed upon my oven, which, as I’ve complained before, has been giving me issues when it comes to even, predictable heating. A new oven may be required sooner rather than later, although I shudder at the expense. I hope that I can make it last at least until the end of the summer at least, since I don’t use it much at all once the weather gets scorching.

I also cooked my corn bread in a glass dish instead of the cast-iron skillet specified by the recipe. Why? Because I’ve only got the one cast-iron pan, and it was too small. I think it turned out fine, considering. I believe that the use of cast iron is more tradition than anything else. However, using a preheated cast iron pan may create a crispy bottom crust on the cornbread that I was unable to achieve with a glass baking dish.

Buckwheat Pancakes Recipe

Buckwheat crepes (crêpes au sarrasin) are traditional in Québec this time of year, served with a generous helping of maple syrup, of course. However, that’s not the dish with which I was raised. My father learned how to cook this kind of food from his father, who, as I’ve mentioned before, worked as a lumberjack in northern New Brunswick. There my grandfather was expected to take his turn cooking for the camp. What was passed down, therefore, was not a delicate crepe, but a hearty pancake meant to fill bellies as quickly as possible, and to fuel heavy manual labour for the rest of the day.

I prefer to eat buckwheat pancakes in the colder months, saving lighter or thinner versions for the summer when the heat makes lighter meals more appealing. However, if you prefer a heavier pancake, a nuttier flavour, or if you have a sensitivity to wheat or gluten, then can be eaten all year round. Despite its name, buckwheat is a totally different kind of plant than wheat; it’s actually more closely related to rhubarb than anything else (although it tastes nothing like it).

Stack of pancakes using a 50/50 buckwheat/all-purpose flour mix.

Buckwheat Pancakes
Yields 12 six-inch diameter pancakes*

In a large bowl, mix together:
– 3 cups buckwheat flour**
– 2 Tbsp sugar
– 2 Tbsp baking powder
– 1 tsp salt
In another large bowl, combine:
– 3 1/2 cups milk
– 2 eggs
– 4 Tbsp vegetable oil
– 1 tsp vanilla
Whisk together wet ingredients until they become a smooth mixture. Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients. Beat with an electric or hand mixer until batter is smooth, scraping the sides of the bowl occasionally with a rubber spatula to remove lumps.

*This recipe may be halved if desired. However, keep in mind that pancakes reheat well in the microwave, and leftovers can become a quick hot breakfast for the next day(s).
**For a lighter pancake, substitute 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour for the same amount of buckwheat flour.

The most difficult part of making pancakes, the part that takes a bit of practice to get right, is the frying. Lightly coat the cooking surface of a heavy, non-stick frying pan with cooking spray. Place the pan on the burner, turn the heat on to just a little bit higher than medium heat, and immediately pour a ladle-full of batter directly into the center of the pan. (Never preheat an empty nonstick pan.) The batter will spread out without help to its optimal thickness. Watch the cooking pancake carefully for bubbles to appear on its surface. When the bubbles pop and leave little craters behind that don’t immediately refill in with batter, it’s time to flip the pancake. (See above photo.)

The pancake should stay in one solid piece when it is flipped. The trick is to cook it slowly so that the batter is almost (but not quite) solid at the time of flipping. If the pancake isn’t cooked long enough, the top layer of batter will just slide off. If it is cooked at too high of a heat, the pancake will be burned on one side by the time it is ready to be flipped. Have patience! Buckwheat pancakes are especially thick and therefore need more time at a lower heat to cook all the way through. Cook each side until it is golden brown.

Pancake using a 50/50 buckwheat/all-purpose flour mix, topped with fresh fruit, maple syrup, and whipped cream.

Traditionally, buckwheat pancakes are served with butter and maple syrup. However, they are a great base for many toppings. If you can’t get (or don’t like) maple syrup, any kind of syrup or sweet sauce will do; corn syrup, honey, berry syrups, and artificially-flavoured syrups are fine. Dust pancakes with white, brown, or icing sugar for a classy touch. Jams, jellies, fruit butters, and nut butters are delicious as spreads. The pancakes can be topped with fresh or canned fruit, adding whipped cream if you have it. They are also a good vehicle for flavouring inside the pancake itself; for added punch, sprinkle a few chocolate or butterscotch chips or small blueberries over the batter as soon as it has been poured into the pan. You can include those kinds of ingredients in the bowl of batter itself, but I like adding them at the time of cooking so that I don’t have to make up multiple batches to appeal to different peoples’ tastes.

The Sugar Bush

Here in Canada, early March is when we start to see the first signs of spring. Generally, the snow hasn’t melted back much, so nothing green is growing, and even if the days peek above freezing, the nights are cold and bitter. There will still be a few good snowstorms. So how is it different from the rest of winter? The maple sap starts running.

It’s less obvious in the cities, where less of the economy is based on maple syrup, but a lot of private land-owners still tap their trees — even if they only have one or two. If you’re not from around here, you may not recognize the silver buckets with lids attached to the maple trees. A single tree may not yield much (it takes 40L of sap to make 1L of syrup), but home-made maple syrup is enough of a lure even for city-dwellers. Restaurants and coffee shops suddenly start featuring maple-flavoured everything, in much the same way the pumpkin spice craze happens in October.

Left to right: my Nan, the host family’s child, me, and my little brother, at the sugar bush.

One of my fondest childhood memories is of visiting a sugar bush. I couldn’t tell you if we did it once or many times, or if I even seemed to appreciate it at the time — but it’s an event that stuck in my memory.

Now, a sugar bush is not the same thing as a sugar shack, which is a rough translation of the Québecois cabane à sucre. From page 10-11 of Anita Stewart’s Canada:

In the maple forests, les cabanes were the quarters for those harvesting the sap. There was a wood stove for cooking and keeping warm. With cast-iron frying pans, the traditional foods of les cabanes à sucre evolved to satisfy the enormous appetites. Fèves au lard (pork and beans), liberally sweetened with maple syrup, simmered on the stove-top. Potatoes were fire-roasted, and eggs were poached in syrup. There were thin crêpes made form sarrazin (buckwheat flour). Ham and bacon, both requiring little refrigeration, were fried, and omelettes were cooked to go with them. Syrup was poured over everything. And the workers didn’t just make syrup — they boiled down sugar, fermented partially boiled sap into maple vinegar and even made maple wine.

The tradition of visiting a cabane à sucre is still going strong to this day. Not surprising, as maple syrup is one of our biggest crops — according to Wikipedia, Canada produces about 80% of the world’s maple syrup, and the province of Québec accounts for 85% of that total. Here on the Ontario/Québec border, many of us cross the river to visit Quebécois cabanes, although there are a number of them on this side as well.

Left to right: my Nan, the host family’s child, me, my little brother, the host mother, my father, and my mother at the sugar bush.

However, there is a great deal of difference between a cabane à sucre and a sugar bush. I visited many cabanes as a child, mostly as school field trips, and they didn’t stick with me the same way my visit to the sugar bush did. A modern cabane (especially one open to serve the general public) is part of a commercial maple syrup enterprise. The building is large, snug, and well-appointed. Often you can pay a flat rate and eat as much maple syrup, pancakes, baked beans, breakfast sausages, and bacon as you can stuff into your face. They are used to having a huge number of people cycling through the place in the spring. If you are lucky, they will offer tours of the facilities.

A sugar bush, on the other hand, is just the actual forest with the tapped trees. There is no fancy building with extensive cooking facilities. If you’re invited to one of these, you have to know the owner. They are often on private land and are not part of a commercial enterprise. Any food cooked is over a campfire or on a camp stove. A sugar bush is rustic, outdoors, and, to a kid, much more interesting. I remember getting to wander the woods, peek into the sap collection buckets, build things out of sticks, and tromp through the mud and slush. Then it was time to eat fresh-cooked pancakes and bacon and sausages doused in fresh-made syrup. Then we explored some more. We came home that night filthy, stuffed to the gills, and absolutely exhausted. It was wonderful.

Thing 1, Thing 2 and I making tire in the quickly-melting snow.

Unfortunately, we no longer know anyone who owns a sugar bush, so bringing my kids to one is not an option. To my surprise, their schools have never arranged for a field trip to a cabane à sucre, so I think I will have to take them to one sometime soon. But with the snow on the weekend (hopefully the last one of the season) I was able to at least make tire with them this year.

Tire (from the French word le tire meaning taffy pull) is pronounced pronounced like “teer”, not like the rubber things you put on wheels. It is the absolute simplest way of making maple candy. Basically, you boil the syrup, then pour it over clean snow. (Full instructions at TheKitchn.com.) Now, I don’t actually own a candy thermometer, so I had to straddle the line between “not hot enough” and “burnt”. I think I came down a little bit too much on the “not hot enough” side, so the tire didn’t end up as solid as I’d like. Also, the day had warmed up a bit and the snow I’d set out plates for the night before was more slush than anything else. The kids didn’t care. It was still maple syrup deliciousness.

Thing 2 holding her tire.

It’s not necessary to use a wooden craft stick to eat the tire, but it’s much less messy that way. Just roll the candy around the stick when it’s still a little bit warm, and ta-daa! Instant lollipop. Oh, and you can totally used shaved or crushed ice if you don’t have clean snow. The fresh snow part is tradition, but it’s not 100% necessary.

Whole Wheat Sesame Seed Bagels

Last night I decided to try to make bagels for the first time. I followed the “Bagels” recipe on page 26 of Baking Bread: Recipes From Around the World for the Complete Home Baker by Audrey Ellison (1995). The book itself is over twenty years old, but it is new to me — a thrift store find. I believe that this is the first recipe I’ve followed from it.

Whole wheat sesame seed bagel with herb and garlic cream cheese.

All in all, I was quite satisfied with how my bagels turned out. They are slightly chewy on the outside and soft on the inside, which is exactly how I like them. They’re also smaller than their store-bought counterparts, perfect to serve my kids, and hey, an adult can always have two. My mother and I both liked them and thought they were worth making again, but my husband is more reticent. He prefers the chewier, denser, Montreal-style bagels. Oh well, more for me!

Bagels before the last proof.

I learned a few things when making these bagels. First of all, if I’m going to shape the dough rings by hand (as opposed to extruding them or cutting them, like how they may be done in a factory), I’m going to need to do a better job of pinching together the ends. The instructions even warned that they would need to be firmly attached so that the rings would keep their shape. I thought I’d done it well enough, but apparently not. A number of my bagels were more U-shaped than O-shaped.

Bagels boiling.

Also, I found out that bagels are boiled before they’re baked. I had no idea. I quickly learned that this is the part where my rings were going to fall apart, though. I’m pretty sure they would have stayed intact if I’d just baked them on a sheet. The reason for boiling before baking is, according to TheKitchn.com:

Boiling breads like bagels and pretzels effectively sets the crust before it goes in the oven. The water doesn’t actually penetrate very far into the bread because the starch on the exterior quickly gels and forms a barrier. Bagels are typically boiled for 30-60 seconds on each side. The longer the boil, the thicker and chewier crust.

In the oven, the fact that the crust is already set means that the bagels don’t rise nearly as much. This is partly what gives bagels their signature dense, chewy interiors. (The other part is using high-protein flour.)

Bagels ready to be baked.

The last thing I learned is that there is an error in the recipe I used. In the first step of the instructions, it says “dissolve the yeast in the water…” However, the only time there’s water in the recipe is to boil the bagels in. I actually measured out the water and added the yeast before I realized that the proportions were all wrong. I checked and double-checked the recipe; nope, I hadn’t read it wrong. It should read, “dissolve the yeast in the warm milk“. I started again with this correction, and everything else went according to plan.

Would I make this recipe again? Definitely! I’d like to try different flavours; I’m partial to all-dressed bagels, and roasted garlic, and onion. It would be interesting to experiment with length of boiling time and protein level in the flour. Perhaps I could learn how to make the chewier, denser bagels that my husband likes best. I’m not too worried if I don’t accomplish that, though. There are some lovely Montreal-style delis and bakeries in this city that I’m perfectly happy to have an excuse to visit.

Moncton Market

Spring has been exceptionally slow coming around these parts this year; we had a snowstorm last Friday, and the forecast is for more snow this coming Friday. Daytime temperatures have been just above freezing, while at night it has been dipping just below zero, so our snowbanks aren’t melting back very quickly. And it’s only a few days until the beginning of April!

A handicraft booth set up outside the Moncton Market building; there are many tables outdoors when the weather is nice.

Despite the weather, it’s technically spring, and spring to me means the start of the farmers’ market season. Technically it’s a little early for that; we’re not getting fresh produce for a little while yet, unless it’s from greenhouses. And yet I find myself thinking about all the great markets I’ve been to, and yearning for a chance to visit them again.

The main hall (Con Simon Memorial Hall) on an unseasonably-cool summer day.

One of my favourite markets to visit while on vacation is the Moncton Market in Moncton, New Brunswick. We seem to end up there on at least one weekend every time we visit the city. It’s not specifically a farmers’ market, although it does have a large selection of fresh local produce (when in season), as well as deli and butcher booths. There is also a food court and a huge number of handicrafts for sale.

Main hall.

The Moncton Market runs all year long, and actually is set up in its own proprietary building that was built in 1995 (although this market has existed, in one form or another, since the late 1800’s). Saturday is market day, but the food court is open all week long for lunch. Due to its downtown location and proximity to office buildings, particularly government offices, there is a brisk lunch business.

Main hall.

In addition to the main hall, there is a second, later-built hall (Festival Place) and a bay area, all of which are packed with vendors and customers on market day. Festival Place is sometimes rented out for other events on non-market days. There is also a culinary center on the premises, although I’ve never seen it in use. Every time I’ve been there, it has been used as a seating area for the food court.

Accordion player in the main hall.

Maple syrup and maple candy are pretty much prerequisites for any Canadian market.

There is often live entertainment throughout the market. There may be a single busker in the main hall, a duo in the secondary hall, and an entire ensemble on the stage outside — so there’s always entertainment. Thing 2 could happily spend her entire trip to the market sucking on a maple lollipop while she watches the performers. Thing 1, on the other hand, would rather hunt down a gourmet cupcake seller. Me, I’m on the lookout for fresh, local food to bring home for dinner.

Of course, part of the fun is to pick up some breakfast or lunch at the market while you are there. I am partial to the fresh-cooked crepes and waffles; the lineup is always long, but the food is cooked fresh to order, and the delicious portions are substantial.

Fruit-covered crepe drizzled with chocolate hazelnut butter, raspberry syrup, and whipped cream. Photo by my mother.

Classic crepe with banana, chocolate hazelnut butter, and whipped cream.

Waffle with berries, apples with cinnamon-sugar, and whipped cream.

Around here, the winter (indoor) version of the Lansdowne Park Ottawa Farmers’ Market runs on Sundays from January 8th to April 30, from 10:00am to 3:00pm, in the Aberdeen Pavilion. There’s nothing specifically stated on their website, but the outdoor summer market usually starts sometime in May. The Cumberland Farmers’ Market has their Spring Market on Saturday April 8th from 9:00am to 3:00, but their main season doesn’t start until mid-June.

I can’t wait for summer market season to start again. Come on, Ottawa… Thaw!

Gingerbread Mouse’s Cookie Recipe

My youngest daughter noticed that there was a gingerbread recipe at the back of her copy of Gingerbread Mouse by Katy Bratun (2007). This picture book would usually be stored away with the Christmas decorations, but it ended up being in regular rotation at story time, so I am loathe to put it away until she loses interest. I had a great deal of success with the chocolate cake recipe at the back of Amelia Bedelia Bakes Off when I tried it last month, so I was optimistic about trying out another recipe from a children’s book. I was not disappointed.

Gingerbread, to me, is usually a tough cookie, able to withstand the stresses of being assembled into a house shape and decorated by little hands. Gingerbread is also a dark, rich brown. Going by these qualifiers, the Gingerbread Mouse cookies weren’t very gingerbread-like at all. They were buttery and delicate, more like a shortbread in texture. They would never stand up to house construction. They were also light brown — coloured by the ginger, cinnamon, and brown sugar, but missing the traditional molasses. They were also absolutely melt-in-your-mouth delicious. I am definitely making them again, but I will use a different recipe if I need to build a gingerbread house.

To me, one of the best things you can eat with a ginger-flavoured cookie is vanilla ice cream or frozen yogurt. One of my favourite things to do after making my way through the maze of the local IKEA is to pick up a box of PEPPARKAKOR ginger thins at the Swedish Food Market and use them to scoop up some of the frozen yogurt that they sell in the bistro just past the checkouts. For dessert after the Sunday dinner that I hosted last night, I served the Gingerbread Mouse cookies alongside store-bought French vanilla ice cream. I’d love to say that I made the ice cream too, but I just don’t have the equipment. And hey, at least it was real ice cream and not a “frozen dairy dessert”.