Hello friends,
Every year for over 12 years I’ve made dozens of chocolate-peppermint cookies in December. For the first decade, the cookies were like a minty Oreo: two dark chocolate disks sandwiched with a sugary, buttery, peppermint-enhanced filling, dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with crushed candy cane bits.
They were extra. And my signature holiday situation, until a phase of life came along when I was trying to write a cookbook and edit recipe stories for a magazine and parent two young boys. Then they just became a pain in the ass.
But I couldn’t not make them, so I edited them. I got rid of the filling and reduced the cookie to one disk dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with crushed candy cane bits.
Not only were the cookies just as beautiful and delicious, they were easier to make and to eat (and I doubled the yield!). It’s a shining example of improvement by subtraction (a phrase my brother recently used to describe the streaking Celtics since prima donna point guard Kyrie Irving left the team).
Less = better. I’ve been doing some food styling work lately, and sometimes you need to take the napkin out of the frame for the overall composition to pop. Compelling writing doesn’t just happen, it’s the result of revision and editing - of subtracting. Podcasts, too - I might think I sound insightful when I’m nattering away on Made Fresh about whether I’m a grownup yet, but really it would be better if I stopped talking after two minutes instead of four?
If subtraction creates more powerful impact when you’re making things like food vignettes or pieces of writing or audio narrative, it’s worth considering how the process of subtraction can improve our daily lives, as well. I love what Anne Helen Petersen wrote about this recently:
I’ve found that purposefully slowing down — continually subtracting from my life in all ways — to be transformative. Instead of making my life feel empty, or less efficient, it opens up space for what remains (friends, commitments, activities, hobbies, books, movies, whatever) to spread, grow richer, become more nourishing.
What do you notice about how things change when you subtract from, instead of add to, your creative work or the basic patterns of the day-to-day? Tell me.
In service of basic math,
XO
Leigh
CARE FOR: In this section, I highlight stuff that gets me thinking about the forms and functions of care and how we express it. Have something you want to share? Tell me!
OURSELVES: Cue the eyeroll on this story about the ladies of Topanga Canyon and their tea ceremonies, but one comment online really stuck with me:
“Neither one seems to recognize the value of "ordinariness" at the core of this simple ritual.” And yet, as Zen reminds us, it is precisely in this ordinariness that the sacred lives. The lesson of the tea ceremony is not about unplugging from our ugly world, but about staying plugged in, dealing with the muck. By caring for the mundane, we take care of the world [emphasis mine]. With care and intention (no boutique earthenware required), even a microwaved cup of Lipton brew can be an affirmation of the exquisite reality of being.”
EACH OTHER: Why does it feel like Finland just does it better? Parents still paying a second mortgage in the form of daycare expenses while starting to think about saving for college - I see you.
THE PLANET: Vegans rise up?
WE ALL GOTTA EAT:
It’s true. Here’s one thing I’m cooking these days:
Here’s the recipe for the edited chocolate-peppermint cookies - not exactly simple, but festive and fun to eat.
Chocolate-Peppermint Cookies
Makes 36 cookies
Cookies:
¾ cup granulated sugar
1 ¾ cup flour
¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 ½ teaspoons salt
15 tablespoons (7 ½ ounces) unsalted butter, cut up, at room temperature
Extra flour, for rolling
Finish:
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped (or use chips)
12 candy canes, crushed
Set the oven at 350 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment. Have on hand extra parchment for rolling and a plain round 2-inch cutter.
In a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, if you have one (or the whisk), blend the granulated sugar, flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt on low speed. Start adding the butter a few pieces at a time. The dough will look loose, like ground crumbs.
Transfer the dough to the counter and use the heel of your hand, pressing it away from you again and again, to work the butter into the dough. Once the dough comes together, shape it into a flat cake. Divide in half.
Flour 2 pieces of parchment paper. Place 1 piece of dough between the sheets and roll to a ⅛ -inch thickness. Using the cutter, stamp out rounds and transfer them to the baking sheets, setting them 1-inch apart. Reroll the scraps once or twice.
Bake the cookies for 12 to 15 minutes, rotating the sheets halfway through, or until they are firm to the touch. Set the sheets on wire racks; cool the cookies for 5 minutes. Transfer the cookies to the racks to cool completely. Roll and bake the other piece of dough in the same way.
Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
In a heatproof bowl over hot (but not boiling) water, melt the chocolate, stirring gently. Reduce the heat under the saucepan. Working quickly, and holding the cookie by one side, dip each one halfway into the chocolate to make a half-moon glaze on two sides.
Set them on the baking sheet and sprinkle with crushed candy canes. (Add the candy cane sprinkles as you go, while the chocolate is still warm.) Repeat until all of the cookies have been dipped and sprinkled. Let the cookies sit for at least 1 hour, or until the chocolate sets.