Arriba! Arroz Con Leche!

Salvador Dali
"Muchacha de Espaldas" 1925
Museo Nacional Centro de Arte
Reina Sofia

Perhaps the most beloved of the desserts from Mexico is Arroz Con Leche or Rice Pudding. It can be found in nearly every restaurant or on every street corner and as a result there are many different ways in which to prepare it. Some recipes call for eggs while others do not. I prefer to prepare my rice pudding with eggs simply because I lust for that more intense custard flavor. However, the beauty of Arroz Con Leche is that it can be made with or without eggs and you will still get beautiful results.

I love this recipe for many reasons but the main one is the beautiful way the raisins absorb the custard to the point of engorgement. When you get one of these magical orbs in your mouth during the process of eating, there is literally an explosion of succulent flavors so resplendent and complimentary that all you can do is close your eyes and hum the aromas into your culinary memory forever.

RICE PUDDING

1 Cup Long Grain Jasmine White Rice
3 Cups Water
2 Two and a Half Inch Cinnamon Sticks
¼ Teaspoon Kosher Salt
4 Cups Whole Milk
3 Medium Eggs
1 ½ Cups Granulated Sugar
1 Cup Chilean Flame Raisins
1 ½ Teaspoons Mexican Vanilla Extract
Ground Cinnamon for Garnish

In a large saucepan with a tight fitting lid, or a Dutch oven, pour in the rice, water, cinnamon stick and salt. Bring to a boil, stir once to ensure that no rice is sticking to the pan, and then bring the heat down to the lowest setting, cover, and cook until almost all of the water has been absorbed, about 15 minutes.

While the rice is cooking, pour the milk into a heavy bottomed saucepan and then add 1 cup of the sugar and heat on low just until steam begins to rise off the thick white surface. Whisk in the last ½ cup of sugar into the eggs. When the milk is up to steam, immediately remove from the heat and begin ladling cupfuls of the hot milk into the eggs, whisking vigorously the entire time. Continue this process until half of the milk has been incorporated into the eggs. Pour the tempered eggs into the remaining milk and stir until combined. Pour the raisins into the milk/egg mixture and allow to rest for 2 minutes.

After the rice has absorbed almost all of the water, remove the lid and begin pouring the custard into the rice. Slowly stir with a wooden spoon until all of the custard has been added and then set your pan over the lowest possible flame and continue to cook until the pudding is very thick, about 30 minutes, stirring often. Be careful not to allow the pudding to come to a boil, as it will cook the eggs.

Once the pudding is very thick, remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla. Allow the pudding to sit in the pan for 2 hours more as the rice will continue to absorb the custard. For the very best results, I suggest refrigerating over night to allow the flavors to marry.

Spoon the pudding into your serving bowls and then garnish the tops with a thin veil of ground cinnamon.

Excellent served cold, warm or at room temperature i.e. a whole other reason to absolutely love this recipe. With this kind of versatility, you can serve rice pudding at just about any time of day for any kind of occasion, including picnics.

Serves 6

Vincent Van Gough (1853-1890)
The Italian, 1887
Musee d'Orsay
Paris, France

Gone Bananas

Ironically enough, my last thought was indeed bananas, and as I was going through my recipes, I realized that banana bread was the first gluten-free baked item that I successfully mastered. My first thought was to scrap the idea of presenting it because it is (gast! blasphamey!) made with a "mix" rather than "from scratch." I sat on this notion for a spell and realized that this fact did not, in fact, take away from the shear deliciousness of the recipe and decided to go ahead and make myself appear a lowly "mix" user. After all, in retrospect, it took me several attempts before I made this banana discovery a reality and just for good measure, I've decided to go full on crazy by including the most mouth watering banana ice cream recipe, ever.

Most may not associate banana bread with dessert, but I beg to differ. This is definitely considered a sweet bread and although it may not be served at the end of a sumptuous meal, this version is so heavenly that you may begin to agree with me. Furthermore, many French dessert cookbooks include sweet breads as a part of their repertoire, so I figured, why shouldn’t I?

Sweet breads are an excellent way to start the day or for that little afternoon snack. If you want to dress it up a bit for a special occasion, like a weekend brunch or a tea party, I suggest icing it with this lovely cream cheese icing (see recipe below).

BANANA BREAD

8 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter
1 Cup Sugar
2 Large Eggs
1 ½ Cups Bob’s Red Mill All Purpose Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1 Teaspoon Salt
3-4 Very Ripe Bananas, mashed (about 1 cup)
2/3 Cup Buttermilk
2 Teaspoons Mexican Vanilla
2/3 Cup of Chopped Pecans (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter one 9” x 5” rectangular bread pan and set aside. In a large mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar until the butter both lightens a shade and takes on that fluffy, smooth texture. Add the eggs, one at a time, and mix until the sugar is dissolved.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, soda and salt. Taking your flour mixture, gently tap it into the butter, sugar and eggs. Pour in the buttermilk, the mashed bananas and the vanilla and mix well. Finally, toss in the pecans and mix for a few rotations.

Pour the mixture into your buttered pan. Loosely cover with aluminum foil and bake at 350°F for 1 hour 15 minutes or until a bamboo skewer comes out clean. Remove from the oven. Allow the bread to cool for 10 minutes and then remove it from the pan and allow to continue cooling on a wire rack.

Serve with a little butter and honey. Excellent toasted, sinful with cream cheese icing. (See recipe below.)

Store in refrigerator in either wax paper or aluminum foil for up to 5 days.

CREAM CHEESE ICING

8 oz. Cream Cheese
6 Tablespoons Butter
½ Teaspoons Mexican Vanilla
1 ½ Cups Confectioner’s Sugar

Cream together the butter and cream cheese until smooth. Sift the confectioner’s sugar and add to the cream cheese mixture. Mix for 5 minutes more and then add the Mexican vanilla and mix until incorporated.

Makes about 2 cups icing.

Andy Warhol
Peel Banana, 1967
Album cover for The Velvet Underground


Little needs to be said about this recipe except to make it now! Whoever the genius was (it was not me, but I wish it were) who decided to roast the bananas first, I tip my hats off to them because it makes this recipe sing. By roasting the bananas, you are essentially caramelizing the sugars of the fruit, making the banana flavor much more intense and full bodied. This is an ice cream that disappears quickly, so you may want to make more than one batch…

BANANA ICE CREAM

4 Ripe Bananas, roasted
1 ½ Cups Cream
1 ½ Cups Half and Half
1 Cup Sugar
6 Egg Yolks
Pinch Salt
1 ½ Teaspoons Mexican Vanilla
4 Tablespoons Dark Rum
1 Cup Dark Raisins


Preheat oven to 350°F. Line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and place the four bananas in the middle of the sheet, evenly spaced. Pierce each banana 8 times with the tip of a very sharp knife and roast for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool before peeling the bananas. Puree until smooth and set aside.

In a separate, wide, shallow bowl pour the dark rum over the raisins and allow to sit for at least 30 minutes and up to an hour. As they will not be stirred into the ice cream until just before the ice cream is placed into the freezer, you should have ample time at this point.

In a heavy bottomed saucepan, combine half of the sugar with the cream and half and half, stirring often to insure the sugar does not burn. Bring to a boil and then remove from the heat. Whisk together the egg yolks and remaining sugar until pale and full of promise. Temper the egg yolks by ladling the hot cream mixture into the yolks, whisking very quickly. Continue to ladle in the hot cream until it is reduced by half. Pour the tempered mixture back into the hot cream and again turn the heat on medium. Pour in the pureed bananas and, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, cook until thick. Once you can coat the back of your spoon and draw a distinct line down the back of it with your finger, it is done. Immediately remove from the heat and allow to cool before stirring in the Mexican vanilla.

Allow to cool for 1 to 3 hours in the refrigerator before freezing in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Once the ice cream is quite thick, drain the raisins and then pour them into the ice cream. Continue to freeze until done.

Can be kept in an airtight container in the freezer for up to 2 weeks.

Yields 1 quart.

Late Night Ponderings

Prozac, photo by Holly Lindem, 2001
Palm Press, Inc., 2004


My hands are so dry the skin is beginning to feel noticeably tight when I straighten my fingers. I've had my hands in and out of hot water on a regular basis for several days now, cleaning up after what feels like quite a lot of experimentation. And even though I've been trying my hands at several new baking ideas, I've had to scrap 2/3 of my work simply because the recipes are no longer malleable. That's the catch with gluten-free cooking, especially in baking, that you can only push the ingredients so far and then you're just left with the good, the bad and the ugly. (I only wish to Christ that I had taken pictures of these mutant cakes.)

Take, for example, my three trials at creating a gluten-free genoise. For those of you who have never heard of a genoise, it is one of the pillars of French baking in that it can be made as a base for nearly any layer cake. It's texture is exceptionally light, yet moist, giving the patisserie carte blanche on the richness of the icings. Essentially, a genoise is a sponge cake that is traditionally flavored with orange water, but can also be made using vanilla extract. Furthermore, there are two versions of a genoise, one with whole eggs and one just with the egg whites. I opted for the whole egg approach.

I was initially drawn to the idea of a genoise because the recipe calls for a relatively scant amount of flour (a mere 2/3 c.) per 8" cake pan. I set the few tablespoons of butter into a copper pan and turned the heat on the lowest setting and began to melt the butter. While this was taking place, I then got to work whisking the sugar and the eggs until they came to the ribbon. So far, everything was looking perfect. Then I sifted in the flours and poured in the melted butter and combined until smooth. I finished it off with the orange water, incorporating well before I poured the batter into the pan and put it into the oven to bake. Oh how fragrant the orange water was! My senses were standing at attention to this minute yet powerful sensory discovery. Twenty minutes later I thought I had something like a miracle. Everything looked normal. The cake even managed to get a little lift during the baking process, inflating my hopes right along with it. Well, when I pulled the cake out of the oven and allowed it to cool, it began loosing volume almost immediately.

I knew, with every shit avoiding fiber in my being, that I had no other choice than to accept my failure without letting the defeat crush my ego. I was terrified! Oh, it can't be! Not my baby...no!!!! But then as my eyes curled over the edge of the pan, catching a glimpse of this genetic reject of a cake, I just had to laugh. It had shrunk to 2/3 the original size, collecting quite a few wrinkles in the process. I picked it up. It was dense and when Tim saw it, he asked what was doing with a discus in the house. It still smelled good, so I grabbed a knife and dissected a sliver of a specimen and sampled the flavor. More horrors. Because gluten free flours don't contain natural leveners as do the standard wheat flours, a majority of the ingredients had settled to the bottom creating a geologists dream: onion paper thin lines to show not so much the passing of time but the passing of a lofty idea. There was my experiment, layer after layer of it, laughing at me. As ugly as it was, I had to have a taste. The orange water delivered a heavenly blossom right into the middle of my tongue with a perfect balance of perfume and sweetness to get my taste buds aroused. It was subtle yet definite. I instantly wanted to make this thing work, it was just the horraneous texture and appearance that needed to be addressed.

I threw my first ever gluten free genoise into the garbage and started my second attempt. This time, I added some levening to see if that helped. It did, but the cake looked like a half-ass tee-pee; all the height was in the center and only the center. The flavor was holding up, so I tossed number two and did an about face for a third. I added more levening agents and it turned out beautifully. It rose symmetrically along the entire diameter of the pan and had a light, tan color. Could it be so?
I sliced into my victory with nothing short of pride on top of pride on top of pride. The trifecta! I again carved out a sample piece.

I nearly gaged. I had added so much baking soda (3 teaspoons) that the flavor was completely ruined. It was all bitterness and decay. Gone were my images of flowers and success. Mais non! C'est tres horrible! Oh, putant! I threw my third and final attempt into the garbage and walked away, but as I left the battlefield, all I wanted was to make something that I knew would turn out. Maybe a batch of cookies or banana bread...then I realized could never cover up my defeat with a pseudo victory. I had to take it in the stomach and keep on walking.


Mark Rothko (1903-1970)
No. 7, 1960
Sezon Museum of Modern Art, Karuizawa

Kiss Me, Kisses

I’m not a huge proponent of Valentine’s Day, but I am a firm believer in the power of love and the romance that inherently comes along with it. This said, Tim and I don’t usually celebrate Valentine’s Day for the very same reason; it’s a Hallmark Holiday that, for us, is completely devoid of romance because the act of romance is so overshadowed with all the Valentine’s Day obligations: the heart shaped boxes of chocolates, the long stemmed roses, the occasional jewelry box, the lemo ride, etc. I guess it just doesn’t feel right to be expressing ourselves in the very same way all these millions of other people are. But, then again, anyone who knows me knows that I am anything but conventional and neither is Tim, so in our way, this is a tremendous bond. To celebrate this spirit, I thought it would be perfect to create a dessert that was romantic, subtle as a good fragrance, and much more than meets the eye.

The added bonus to these cookies is that they can be enjoyed by anyone, not just us celiac sufferers. The first time I made these cookies, we served them at my brother-in-law’s Christmas Eve party and they were a total hit. Out of the six dozen cookies I made, only half a dozen were left the next day.

MARASCHINO MARZIPAN KISSES


2 Cups Almond Meal
¾ Cup of Granulated Sugar
2 Egg Whites
1/3 Teaspoon Almond Extract
1 Pound Jar Maraschino Cherries
2 ½ Cups Sliced Almond, lightly crushed

Preheat oven to 425° F and line two baking sheets with either parchment paper or Silpats and set aside.

Pour the almond meal, the almond extract, the egg whites, and the granulated sugar into a food processor with the blade attachment and pulse until the dough looks wet, firm, and rolls easily into a well-formed ball. Place the dough into a separate bowl and set aside.

Drain the maraschino cherries and set them aside.

Using a round shallow baking pan or pie pan, pour in the 2 ½ cups sliced almond and using your hands, begin taking handfuls of the nuts and gently crushing them just until you can hear the pieces begin to break. Repeat this process until you have an even assortment of small, medium and large pieces.

Now fill a large bowl with cool water and set it next to the bowl with the dough and the bowl with the drained maraschino cherries, as you are now ready to begin forming your cookies.

Dip your fingertips into the cool water and moisten the palm of your left hand. The key to successfully making these cookies is having just enough water between your hands and the dough so that they won’t stick. Too much water and the dough won’t hold it’s shape and will pull away from the cherries, too little water and the dough is all over your hands, so just a few drops of water is really all that you need. Now, using a dessertspoon, scoop out a ball of dough about the size of a medium marble and gently roll it between your palms until it’s a smooth little orb. Now press it flat into a disk and take a cherry and place it in the middle of the disk. Gently gather the edges of the disk up around the top of the cherry and again roll the ball between your palms until it is again that smooth little sphere.

Next place your little ball of deception onto the bed of crushed sliced almonds and gently roll the cookie around until it is coated well and then place it on the cookie sheet. Repeat this process until all of the cookies are formed. As these cookies will not spread at all during the cooking process, you can place them close together.

Bake in your 425° F oven for 10-12 minutes or until the almonds are gently toasted and the top of the cookies have minute fissures visible on top.

Allow to cool slightly before transferring the cookies to a wire rack.

Depending on the size of your cherries, this recipe makes about 20 cookies.

I suggest serving these with Moet & Chandon White Star champagne because there is nothing more romantic than champagne, kisses and kissing.



Rene Magritte (1898-1967)
Les Amants, 1928
Richard S. Zeisler Collection, New York

Sunday Breakfast

Jean Dubuffet (Le Havre, 1901)
Dhotel nuance d'abricot, 1947
Musee National d'Art Moderne, Centre Georges Pompidou (a.k.a The Gerbil Cage), Paris

For me, Sunday breakfast has always had a special place in my heart. When I was growing up, Sunday was always the day I'd wake up to the smell of bacon frying, coffee brewing and the sizzle of my mother making blintzes. Oh those blintzes my mom would make! They were just one out of perhaps hundreds of examples in which my mother could wield gluten perfection. The crepes of these heavenly breakfast treats were delicate, symmetrical ovals that my mom would fold over like a piece of ivory silk, bundling the frothy cottage cheese filling into a pocket of sensory stimulii. After eating one, my brothers and sisters and I would impatiently stand in line waiting for the next blintz to slide out of the skillet and onto our plates. With five hungry kids elbowing each other for the place in front of us, you can only imagine the wooden spoon threats my mother could yield that would silence us within seconds. "No, no! I'm sorrry! My I pleaaaaaaaase have one more blintz?"

Then there were the pancakes. Pancakes? Yes, today, I woke up with a hankering for pancakes. Even though I've been waxing poetic about my mother's blintzes, I have yet to perfect a gluten-free version, so I too am settling for the pancakes. I awoke this morning with a specific ingredient in mind: buckwheat. My son eats buckwheat cereal nearly every morning when it's cold and lately, I've been wanting to try my hand a buckwheat, the flour. Unfortunately my husband, Tim, wasn't in the mood for pancakes so I fried up some Da Becca Bacon, made our Nespresso coffee (the most ingenious coffee invention since Starbucks), and asked him what he would prefer.

"A Boggy Creek egg," he replied, from over the top of his reading glasses without lifting his gaze from the Sunday Times.
"With or without toast?"
"With," still not looking up.
"One slice or two?"
"One, and I'll have the egg fried, like yesterday."

So I got to work on Tim's fried egg and toast which took next to no time at all, and since my son, Leo ate his Honey Nut Cheerios (neither Tim nor Leo suffer from Celiac, thank god) over an hour ago, I had a window for experimentation. But since Tim never looked up from his paper, I could tell my window was going to be a short one. These aren't what I would call the perfect pancake, but seeing how they were made up on the fly, they definately aren't bad.

Buckwheat Pancakes

1/4 Buckwheat Flour
4 Tablespoons Sorghum Flour
1 Tablespoon Tapioca Flour
1/4 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1/8 Teaspoon Kosher Salt
1 Tablespoon Dark Brown Sugar, packed
1 Tablespoon Granulated Sugar
2 Eggs
1/2 Cup Buttermilk
3 Tablespoons Butter, melted

Mix all the dry ingredients together with a fork set aside. Whisk together all the wet ingredients and then pour over the top of the dry and whisk until smooth. Immediatley ladle some batter onto your hot griddle and cook for 1 minute, check and then flip if the color of oak. Repeat until finished. Serve with butter, maple syrup and bacon if you have it on hand.

Makes 4 large pancakes.

A Little Piece of Sunshine

If you are feeling the least bit old fashioned, then is this the perfect solution to your meandering mind: Pineapple Upside Down Cake. Its golden, sunny demeanor draws you in, like a carefully spied gem amongst a crowd of nobodies. The smell is so exotic yet familiar that you’ll be inviting people over for no other reason that to eat this cake.

PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN CAKE

1 Fresh Pineapple, cored and sliced into 10 even slices (about ¼”)
1 Cup Light Brown Sugar
1 Whole Vanilla Bean, split
2 Tablespoons Coconut Rum
1 Tablespoon Unsalted Butter
1 Cup Water
12 Maraschino Cherries

7 Tablespoons Butter
1 Cup Granulated Sugar
¾ Cup Sorghum Flour
¼ Cup Cornstarch Flour
½ Cup Tapioca Flour
½ Teaspoon Baking Soda
¾ Teaspoon Baking Powder
¼ Teaspoon Salt
2 Large Eggs
1 ½ Teaspoons Mexican Vanilla
¾ Cup Buttermilk


Preheat oven to 350°F and take an 8” cake pan and spray lightly with non-stick spray and set aside.

In a large heavy bottomed skillet, add the water, light brown sugar, and vanilla bean and bring to a gentle boil until the sugar is completely dissolved. Turn the heat down to medium-low and add the pineapple slices and sauté for about 5 minutes, or until the minute crevices of the slices begin to take on an amber glow. Carefully remove the slices and place on a plate. Set aside and allow to cool. Continue to cook down the sugar mixture until there is about 1/3 cup remaining in the pan. Remove from the heat and stir in the tablespoon of butter and the coconut rum. Discard the vanilla bean and set the syrup aside.

In a large mixer with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and the sugar, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Add the eggs and continue whipping until the mixture is airy, light and the color of pale beeswax.
Sift together all of the dry ingredients and add to the butter-egg mixture, mixing on a low speed so the dry ingredient don’t rise up in a mushroom cloud and end up on your counter rather than in your bowl. Slowly pour the buttermilk over the batter as if it were lily-white primer. Continue to mix until well incorporated. Finish off the batter with the Mexican vanilla and mix for 2 more minutes.

Now take up the pineapple slices and arrange four of them on the bottom of the pan. Take the remaining slices and cut in half. They should resemble half-moon arches. Arrange these arches along the edges of the pan with the flat edge down. Now take 4 whole maraschino cherries and place one in each hole of the four pineapple slices lining the bottom. Cut the remaining cherries in half. Place one half in each of the half moons until all of the arches are filled. Pour a very thin layer of the reserved syrup onto the pineapple slices lining the bottom of the pan. Do not use all of the syrup; you want to reserve some for serving with. Now quickly pour the batter over the pineapples and cherries. Smooth the surface with an offset spatula and immediately place in the oven to bake for 45-55 minutes (depending on how hot your oven runs). The cake is done when a toothpick comes out clean.

Allow the cake to cool for 2-3 minutes before inverting. Invert onto a pretty platter and allow to cool completely.

Serve with vanilla ice cream and your reserved coconut rum syrup.

Serves 6

Tangent

Pig, 1991. Photo By Walter Schels

I'm having difficulty posting on a regular schedule for two reasons. One is that I'm a bit hesitant about the direction I should take with my narrative voice and the second is that I have been baking non stop for the last week, as in the last seven days, not the last five. I figured that the best way to present myself was in the most softened version of myself, but then I realized that was a kind of confinement that I just couldn't handle. I want to be able to appropriately use expletives when I deem it absolutely necessary and there have been many instances in the last week that I have been want to scream "FUCK!!!!!" So, there it is. The cat is out of the bag, I like to say fuck when I'm frustrated. There's something very satisfying about the sound of it that eases the helplessness that I'm feeling when I say it. I guess I was afraid of offending certain people who may happen upon my little scrap of paper, floating out there in the ether.

On the cooking side of things, I've been very busy. I've been trying out two new recipes, both of which I had to make three times before I got what I was looking for. The first was my mother's birthday cake and the second was a pineapple upside down cake. Now that the cooking is all done, I just have to get out the old polishing wheel so the recipes have a shred of respectability.

Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies

When I first began making attempts at the ideal chocolate chip cookie, I had a very specific consistency in mind. It had to have that initial crunch as your teeth pierced the outer-most layer of the cookie only to be greeted by the immediate, lasting softness throughout. They also had to posses the harmonious balance of salty and sweet. Thirteen batches later and after a severe bout of frustration, I found what I was looking for in this glorious concoction. Even my husband and son, who both possess the most persnickety palates I have ever encountered, willingly devoured these morsels of nostalgia with raised eyebrows and a single word: “Evil.”

CHEWY CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

10 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter, softened
1 ½ Cups light Brown Sugar, packed
¼ Cup + 1 Tablespoon Granulated Sugar
1 ¼ Cup White Rice Flour
1 ¼ Cup Sorghum Flour
1 ½ Teaspoons Baking Powder
2 ½ Teaspoons Salt
1 Teaspoon Zanthan Gum
3 Large Eggs
1 Tablespoon Mexican Vanilla
3 Cups Semisweet Chocolate Chips, preferably Guittard


Preheat oven to 350°F and line two cookie sheets with either silpats or parchment paper and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl with the paddle attachment, cream together the softened butter and the sugars until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes on high. Then add the eggs, one at a time and continue mixing until well incorporated; scrape down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Pour in the vanilla and mix for another 3 minutes. The butter, eggs and sugars will be the color of pale, taupe sand and the consistency will be that of bilious folded feathers.

In the meantime, shift together all of the dry ingredients and then pour, in two batches, into the sugar-butter mixture and continue to mix on the lowest setting for a couple of minutes. The dough should now be quite thick and very smooth. Using a wooden spoon, stir in the chocolate chips and set the dough aside for 15 minutes so as to allow the ingredients to marry.

Using a tablespoon-sized spoon, begin scooping out the dough and placing tablespoon-sized drops, spaced 2 ½ inches apart, on your prepared cookie sheets. This will give you about 6-7 cookies per sheet and will yield about 2 ½ dozen cookies.

Bake in 350°F oven, one sheet at a time, for 15-18 minutes or until the color of caramel.

Allow to cool on the cookie sheet for 5 minutes before moving the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.

Makes about 2 ½ Dozen Cookies.

Interestingly, these are the cookies that keep on giving; they are even better the day after baking them. Enjoy!