You've read - or at least I HOPE you've read - some of the stories of my watching cooking shows, getting recipes or books, or ideas, and then making the dish a part of my regular repertoire. This is such a story.
Some years ago, there was a wonderful cooking show on public TV, coming from San Francisco. It was called "Weir cooking in the wine country," featuring the wonderful Joanne Weir. The whole "look" of the show made me want to just pick up and move to the wine country. Joanne had, and has, such an "air" about her, that I fell in love with her right away. There was a "simpatica" that I felt. Even when she was smiling and going through her steps in cooking, I felt that there was an underlying melancholy that motivated her. And I've written, at great length, how I think that "melancholia" may very well underly all great "popular" art. By that I mean things like cooking, movies, that kind of thing. For example, I remember one critic talking about my favorite movie (An American in Paris), and how most people don't get the underlying sadness of that, or any of Vincent Minelli's movies. I could not have agreed more. I always feel just on the verge of tears when I watch that movie, even as it glorifies dance, color, and all that is wonderful. So, too, with anything else he made.
Anyway, that's the connection to where this recipe came from. I got her cookbook, which is wonderful. I made many of the recipes that she demo'd on the show. She never made this one, but my copy of her book falls open to this page. I have made these cookies often. They are quite wonderful - perhaps THE most wonderful cookie that has ever been designed.
Now, I know that this is a VERY bold statement to make. The same has been said of Viennese vanilla almond crescents, toll house cookies, gingersnaps, and others. I LOVE gingersnaps. I could eat them every day. I could NOT eat these cookies every day, or even every other day. They are just too "filling" to my taste. Nonetheless, when I put a plate of these down, they disappear. And they're beautiful. LORD are these cookies beautiful. And they are relatively easy to do.
There will be an interesting test tonight for the cookies. I'm serving them, as well as very serious, bittersweet chocolate chip cookies, at a bakesale. The cookies are priced the same. Let's see who wins....
If you make these, you will win.
You need 4 ounces each of bittersweet and semisweet chocolate. I use Scharffenberger, which was called for in the original recipe, but you can use what you like. Just PLEASE do not skimp on the quality of the chocolate. Chop it fine. I find that if I have the chocolate at room temperature, and I use a serrated bread knife. The pieces do not have to be uniform, but they should be small.
You will also need two cups of chopped , toasted hazelnuts. Now, I buy chopped toasted hazelnuts from King Arthur Flour, and they are a godsend. But... you can take two cups of hazelnuts and toast them at 350 for ten minutes. Then cool them, and either pulse them in a food processor, or put them in a plastic bag and beat them to the size you like. Again, go for small.
You will also need the seeds of one vanilla bean. I LOVE this technique. I feel like a jeweler. You cut the tip off of the bean, and then make a horizontal cut in it. You can then peel it back and expose the innards (I DID tell you I used to be a biologist, didn't I? It's sort of like dissecting an earthworm). scrape the seeds out, and put them on top of a cup of granulated sugar. Put the pods into your sugar bowl to flavor the sugar. Or put them in a jar of vodka.
You also need three egg whites from three large eggs. NOW, we're ready to go. You start beating the egg whites until they're foamy (I use a kitchenaid). When they get to the foamy stage, add a teaspoon of white vinegar and a pinch of salt. Increase the beating speed until you get firm peaks. Now, add that cup of sugar and the vanilla bean, little by little. "Little by little" is key here. You don't want to do it that quickly. When you get firm, glossy peaks, that look like the meringue on lemon pies in diners, fold in the chocolate and the hazelnuts.
Get a small scoop, and scoop this stuff out onto parchment paper on a baking sheet. Smaller is better. You'll get about 36 cookies from this recipe if you do small ones.
Preheat the oven to 250 - that's 250, not 350 - and bake the cookies for about thirty minutes. I have an irregular oven, where the bottom shelf gets much hotter than the top one. I solve the unevenness problem by double sheeting the bottom cookies, and rotating them after fifteen minutes.
You need to let these cool completely after that half hour. If you don't, they won't come off of the paper. If you do, they will peel away like a well cooked, hard boiled egg shell comes off of the egg.
If you have any left over, put these in a metal tin. Moisture is their worst enemy. Even a drop will turn the whole batch into a sog of disgusting, overly sweet chocolate and nuts, sort of like a bad candy bar (trust me on this).
Now, try them. And tell me if you've ever had a better cookie. I would bet you you haven't, but if you have, tell me about it. I wanna know
Monday, March 9, 2009
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