I’m not fully in the Christmas spirit yet, but I’m trying. (As my father would say, “Yes, you’re very trying, indeed.”)

We had our family meeting to discuss what Christmasy things we oughtn’t miss, two of the kids made their choice of Christmas cookies (neither of which are Actual Christmas Cookies), and we listened to a bit of Christmas music, but that’s about it.

Perhaps the most Christmasy thing we’ve done is read Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. (Boy, there’s a lot of “Christmas” in these first paragraph. Just writing this might launch me into the spirit, fingertips first.) We finished the story last night and are going to see the play later this week. I’d love to listen to the radio version as well. I have fond memories of lounging on the brown shag living room rug when I was a kid, listening to Marley’s clanking chains through the radio speakers.

Maybe I’d feel more ready if we got the tree.

I need to focus on a bunch of Christmas baking before other stuff creeps up on me, though making lots of pretty cookies doesn’t excite me much. Probably because it takes so much time and my time is already packed with other stuff (and I don’t want to give up writing). Also, I have to make the same old same old—butter cookies, gingerbread, raisin-filled—and it’s the new and shiny that draws me in. But, sigh, Christmas is all about tradition. I mustn’t knock it.

I did make a pan of this gingery shortbread the other day. My husband and I had just had a crash-bang fight and he was tearing around the house cleaning things while I was tearing around the kitchen baking things. We weren’t talking, so we got a lot done. And then we made up.

In some ways, this shortbread remind me of peppernuts, but more high-end and without the labor-intensive cutting. The texture couldn’t be better: the shortbread is crunchy buttery, while the icing is soft and cool and almost chewy in a caramel-toffee sort of way. That, plus the biting ginger, and these little treats are mouth fireworks just begging to dazzle. They certainly were the ideal thing for a sulking woman who is not in the Christmas spirit and doesn’t have much drive to bake.

Iced Ginger Shortbread
Adapted from Dinner with Julie

I tried sprinkling some minced candied ginger into the still-wet icing, and while I liked the flavor, it wasn’t the prettiest. The second time around, I left the ginger out all together, though I bet it would be good mixed into the shortbread bottom.

This recipe is open to interpretation. What about brown sugar instead of white, or molasses or maple syrup instead of golden syrup? And how about stirring some walnuts or pecans into the bubbling frosting? And maybe swapping cinnamon for the ginger?

Whatever you do, don’t stick the spoon you were using to spread the hot icing on the shortbread into your mouth. That’s just plain stupid (yesI’madork).

Shortbread:
1 1/4 cups flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick butter, cut in chunks

Icing:
1/3 cup butter
1 tablespoon golden syrup (I used King’s)
1 cup confectioner’s sugar
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon vanilla

Put the flour, sugar, baking powder, ginger, and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse once or twice to combine. Add the butter and pulse until completely incorporated and the mixture looks like fine sand. (Alternately, just use your fingers to rub the butter into the dry ingredients.) Dump the mixture into a greased 9×13 pan, and firmly pat it down to make a bottom crust. Bake the shortbread at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.

When the shortbread is nearly done baking, make the icing. Melt the butter in a saucepan and add the remaining ingredients. Simmer for about 30 seconds, stirring constantly (the mixture will look greasy and lumpy at first, but it will quickly become smooth and satiny). Pour the icing over the hot shortbread, tilting the pan to cover it evenly.

Cutting the shortbread can be a little tricky since it wants to shatter every which way. To get even little squares, cut while it’s still quite warm. Or you can cool the shortbread in the pan and then cut it into artful shards with a knife. Either way it will still taste fantastic.

Display the shortbread in a pretty jar on the counter, or package well (in plastic or glass, as it’s bound to break if bumped around) and freeze for later use.

Yield: about 1 pound

This same time, years previous: my kids are weird

*Peanut butter and apples: it’s a favorite snack around here. We buy apples (but not these!) by the bushel and peanut butter by the tub (and then put it in smaller containers).
*My youngest daughter is gifted in the trashing a bedroom department: she only needs a few short minutes to create her signature A Tornado Went Through It Look. She’s got some serious skill, that girl has.
*A super windy day came along and blew my boy right into the lettuces. At first he laughed, but the bully wind pinned him down and the laughter turned to sobs of terror. (Days later, when he saw the pictures of himself crying, he started wailing all over again. Not sure if the trauma is from the wind, or from seeing pictures of himself panicking on the computer screen, or from the fact that I took pictures instead of saving him.)
*A pen for a pet caterpillar: see it sticking out of the cardboard tube?
*Late night Sunday school planning: one of the adult classes asked my husband and I to come talk about ourselves, so we did.
*A hallway of puzzles.
*A face mask, fashioned out of a muffin wrapper.
*The richest coffee cake ever—more than a pound of butter, plus a cup and a half of sour cream. The flavor was good, but since all the crumbs sank to the bottom, I count it as a flop. (The cake is said to serve 8-10, a fact which I found to be utterly scandalizing. It should be more like 20-30.)
*Accidental ghee: what I made when I was trying to brown the butter for the coffee cake.
*Paper chain decorations: somehow they ended up all over the house. As the tape de-sticks and the chains flutter-fall, I discreetly collect the bits and pieces and stuff them in the garbage, shhh.

This same time, years previous: wild, raisin-filled cookies, the selfish game

I meant to tell you about our lunch yesterday (which was also our supper the night before and our lunch today): a curry made with red lentils that go all soft and tender so the lentil haters in my family don’t have any texture issues to rebel against. Coconut is the background flavor, and there are peas and sweet potatoes to bulk it up. Cauliflower would be tasty, too, but I didn’t have any.

We eat it over rice like curry is intended, but I think it would be mighty fine served in a bowl solito—a thick, creamy, nourishing stew, perfect for counterbalancing the sweets that flood our kitchens this time of year.

The kids like their curry (though to be honest, they aren’t huge fans of this dish—they prefer this one) with raisins and sunflower seeds, but I take mine with a side of briefly sauteed spinach and a sprinkling of coconut. Yogurt is quite nice, too.

Red Lentil Coconut Curry
Adapted from Simply in Season

1 onion, chopped
1 tablespoon coconut oil (or butter or canola oil)
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
2 teaspoons curry powder
½ teaspoon each turmeric, cumin, black pepper
1/4 teaspoon each red pepper flakes, and cinnamon
2-3 curry leaves (or bay leaves)
1 13.5-ounce can coconut milk
1/4 cup soy sauce (I used tamari)
1 cup tomato sauce
2 cups red lentils, rinsed
2 large sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped in cubes (about 4 cups)
2 cups peas
1-2 teaspoons salt

Put the lentils in a medium-sized saucepan, cover with four cups of water, and bring to a boil before reducing the heat to medium-low and simmering for 15 minutes, or until very tender. Set aside.

Put the sweet potato in another medium-sized saucepan and cover with water (but just barely—no more than 1 cup) and bring to a boil before reducing the heat to medium and simmering until almost fork-tender. Add the peas and cook for another five minutes. Set aside.

Melt the coconut oil in a large soup pot and add the onion. Saute for about five minutes, until tender but not browned. Add the garlic, ginger, and spices (down through the curry leaves) and saute for several more minutes, stirring steadily. Add the coconut milk, soy sauce, and tomato sauce and simmer on low heat for about 15 minutes. Add the cooked lentils and vegetables (with their broth) and salt. Stir to combine and heat through. Taste to correct seasonings.

Serve curry over rice with desired toppings: sunflower seeds, cashews, grated coconut, raisins, yogurt, etc. A banana might be really nice, though I’ve never tried it.

Yield: an awful lot

This same time, years previous: chocolate truffle cake