I promised you a snickerdoodle recipe, didn’t I? I think I best deliver it now, before too much time elapses and I forget that I ever promised you anything.

One of the first things I did, back when we went on that two week-long dairy free experiment, was to mix up some cookies for Sweetsie, something she could eat while the rest of us ate our milk-infused pastries. I picked through my cookie recipes and chose several that looked like they would be easy to swap out the butter for non-dairy subs, and finally settled on snickerdoodles.

I normally don’t like snickerdoodles because they seem so plain—not soft, not rich enough, just blah. But these, well! Maybe it was the recipe, or maybe it was the butter substitutes (lard and coconut oil), but there was nothing blah about them. With a hint of coconut and a touch of nutmeg and cinnamon, the flavor was simple and elegant and not one little bit dull. And the texture was perfect—thinly crispy-chewy—making me want to crunch my teeth into them, over and over and over again.

Now granted, I didn’t fall in love with them immediately. At first I thought them too greasy and without sufficient kick, but Mr. Handsome said good things about them (and as I’ve already explained, it’s rare indeed for Mr. Handsome to volunteer complimentary information about my cooking), so I reconsidered. Perhaps it was a case of the Cook’s Perspective Problem, I thought—you know, sometimes when you’re the one spending extended periods of time measuring, stirring, and tasting, the final product just doesn’t taste as good to you as it does to others.

And wouldn’t you know, that was the case! By the next day, after the cookies had a chance to mellow and I had a break from the kitchen, all my reservations were tossed to the wind—I was deeply and irrevocably in love with them.

Snickerdoodles
Adapted from The All-American Cookie Book by Nancy Baggett

These are the ideal cookie to eat alongside butterscotch pudding, or any pudding, for that matter.

I even used the cookies as a substitute for my standard oat-butter topping for fruit crisp—I simply whacked several of the cookies to pieces with a rolling pin and sprinkled the crumbs on top of the fruit—just so Sweetsie could eat some, too.

2 2/3 cups flour
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1/4 to ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
4 ounces lard
4 ounces coconut oil
1 3/4 cups sugar
1 ½ tablespoons light corn syrup
2 eggs
2 ½ teaspoons vanilla
1/4 cup sugar mixed with 1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon, for topping

Cream together the lard, coconut oil, and sugar. Add the syrup, eggs, and vanilla and beat some more.

Stir together the dry ingredients (flour through nutmeg) and add them to the creamed butter.

Let the dough rest for about ten minutes (to allow it to firm up a bit) before shaping into small balls. Roll the balls in the cinnamon sugar mixture, set the cookies on greased baking sheets, and bake them at 375 degrees for 8-11 minutes—the edges should be lightly browned and the centers should still be pale, but set. Allow the cookies to rest on the cookie sheets for two more minutes before transferring them to a cooling rack.

These store well at room temperature (probably because of the coconut oil), but they can also be frozen in an airtight container of some sort.

Remember our little spending freeze that I wrote about back in January? Well, guess what! I won!!! Heeheehee! Hohoho! Hahaha! No surprises there, sorry, ’cause it’s not like I have a history of winning, or anything.

Nana-nana-boo-boo! You lost and I won, for the THIRD time! IwonIwonIwon!

Alright! I’ll stop rubbing my strawberry smoothie-loving husband’s face in the dirt. I am a nice person, really. I know how to win gleefully, I mean, gracefully.

If you want to read about the purchase (and surrounding event) that toppled my hubby, go here.

Do you ever get in the mood to cook but don’t know what to make so you waffle all over the place, flipping and clicking your way through cookbooks and internet, totally wasting time and accomplishing nothing? I get in those moods a lot, and when I do, then I know it’s time to caramelize some onions.

It really is the best method for getting myself out of the I-want-to-cook-but-I-don’t-know-what-to-make funk. The prep time is quick, the cook time is slow, and the rich smells get your brain juices to flowing and unstick your culinary stuckness.

Even if you don’t need caramelized onions, do it anyway. I learned from Nigella Lawson that you can freeze caramelized onions (she says they make a “gorgeous mush” and suggests freezing them in ice cube trays, but I put mine in little plastic containers instead) and then you have the rich, sweet onions on hand to add to any sauce or soup. (I used a container of frozen mushy onions in a ham and sausage quiche the other night and it elevated the simple pie most divinely.)

Caramelized Onions

Clunk your biggest cast-iron skillet onto the stove and turn the burner to medium-high. Pour in a couple glugs of olive oil (or use several generous pats of butter, instead).

Moving quickly, peel three or four onions and roughly chop them up—you can even leave them in rings, if you so please.

Scrape the onion pieces into the hot oil, sprinkle them with salt, and give them a stir. Once the onions are thoroughly browned (about ten to fifteen minutes), turn the heat down to medium-low and stir them occasionally. They’ll probably be done after about 30-45 minutes.

Divide the onions into little containers to freeze, or use immediately to flavor some savory dish.