October 11, 2010
February 22, 2010
a recent fixation
I've been on a ginger kick lately. Oh fine, who am I kidding. This kick has lasted most of my life. Which is why it comes as quite a surprise to me that prior to last night I have never attempted to make a candied version. Or liquid! Sometimes a small Sunday night success is all you need to make a Monday morning more palatable, if even only slightly.
Candied Ginger (and ginger syrup)
found on cdkitchen.com
you'll need:
1 cup fresh ginger, peeled and sliced about 1/8" thick
3 cups water
3 cups sugar
Combine sugar and water in a pan and heat until sugar is completely dissolved.
Add the ginger and let simmer for 45 minutes. You'll know the ginger is ready when it's mildly sweet, very tender, and the color of melted caramel.
Drain the ginger but preserve the liquid. (Now, my loves, do whatever you have to do to remember what I'm about to tell you. Write it on a post-it, tie a string around your finger, set an alarm, I don't care, just do not pour this syrup down the drain! Promise me you won't. It's the best part of this whole process. Save it for ice cream, yogurt, oatmeal, coffee, or tea. You'll be really happy you did).
Place ginger on a rack to dry. After about 30 minutes, toss with a generous amount of sugar and finish drying.
One more note about that slick and sinful ginger syrup. You want to store it in a container, something airtight, and it'll crystallize naturally. Just add water and boil to melt it to liquid again. Play with the proportions of water so that your desired consistency is achieved. I like a thicker consistency, something I can drizzle like honey over whatever I so choose.
Candied Ginger (and ginger syrup)
found on cdkitchen.com
you'll need:
1 cup fresh ginger, peeled and sliced about 1/8" thick
3 cups water
3 cups sugar
Combine sugar and water in a pan and heat until sugar is completely dissolved.
Add the ginger and let simmer for 45 minutes. You'll know the ginger is ready when it's mildly sweet, very tender, and the color of melted caramel.
Drain the ginger but preserve the liquid. (Now, my loves, do whatever you have to do to remember what I'm about to tell you. Write it on a post-it, tie a string around your finger, set an alarm, I don't care, just do not pour this syrup down the drain! Promise me you won't. It's the best part of this whole process. Save it for ice cream, yogurt, oatmeal, coffee, or tea. You'll be really happy you did).
Place ginger on a rack to dry. After about 30 minutes, toss with a generous amount of sugar and finish drying.
One more note about that slick and sinful ginger syrup. You want to store it in a container, something airtight, and it'll crystallize naturally. Just add water and boil to melt it to liquid again. Play with the proportions of water so that your desired consistency is achieved. I like a thicker consistency, something I can drizzle like honey over whatever I so choose.
February 21, 2010
an unlikely crush
So remember when I confessed to you my most recent infatuation? With cilantro? Honestly, I simply can't seem to get it out of my head. I crave the sight, taste, smell, and feel of the herb (can you feel an herb?) more times a day than I care to admit. I find it mildly amusing that, at this very moment, I have a laundry list of to-dos that seems to multiply by the minute, including a large stack of unopened mail, a full basket of dirty laundry, a lonely old camera that I've been meaning to learn how to use, thank you notes to write, weekly Sunday phone calls to make, and yet all I want to do is gush about cilantro.
To you.
Will you indulge me just this once?
I would send you a pot of this gorgeously spiced soup to show my gratitude if I could. Truly I would! Since I cannot (or at least not until edible teleportation is a reality), you'll have to take my word that it is divine, so easy to pull together, and the best part about it is that it tastes like it's been simmering away all day on the stove, but it only takes about thirty or forty minutes. I love those kinds of soups. Don't you? Not to mention this is a year-round kind, and by that I mean you can of course use fresh peas when they're available but during all other months when peas are not in season you can use frozen. They work beautifully.
Spiced Pea Soup
adapted from Complete Indian Cooking
you'll need:
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil (the recipe calls for gheem which I had never heard of- vegetable oil was suggested as a substitute so this is what I used)
1 large onion, chopped coarsely
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 small potato, peeled and diced
1 inch piece of fresh ginger root, peeled and sliced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
3 1/2 cups vegetable stock
2 cups frozen green peas
1 Tablespoon or more fresh cilantro, chopped plus a few extra leaves for garnish
1 fresh green chile, seeded and diced
1 1/4 cups cream (or half milk, half cream)
salt and pepper to taste
Heat the oil in a large heavy saucepan. Add the onion and garlic and saute over low heat until golden brown and soft, about five minutes or so.
Add the potato, ginger, cumin, and coriander and stir well, making sure the spices coat the potato nicely. Continue cooking over low heat for two to three minutes.
Pour in the vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover the pan, and let gently simmer for fifteen minutes. Add the peas and green chile, and add salt and pepper to taste (1 1/2 teaspoons of salt and 1 teaspoon of pepper was right on for me). Continue to simmer for five minutes.
The next step is to blend. I used a food processor, which worked fine, but if ever there was a time when I wished I owned an immersion blender, this was it. I blended the liquid mixture in four different batches. Twice. Save yourself some time and blend each batch long enough to achieve a silky smooth consistency.
Return the soup back to the pan, add the cream, and heat through. Serve hot with a sprinkling of chopped cilantro leaves.
*If you have a food processor I'm sure you already know how to use it, but I must mention that you should obey the liquid capacity rule and do not fill the container above the printed line. I tell you this as someone who has scoffed at the line, done it my own way, and made a huge mess as a result. Let me make the mistakes first and save you the trouble by sharing them and advising you to do the exact opposite. Sound good? Good. Now hop to it and make this soup. Your cilantro begs of you.
To you.
Will you indulge me just this once?
I would send you a pot of this gorgeously spiced soup to show my gratitude if I could. Truly I would! Since I cannot (or at least not until edible teleportation is a reality), you'll have to take my word that it is divine, so easy to pull together, and the best part about it is that it tastes like it's been simmering away all day on the stove, but it only takes about thirty or forty minutes. I love those kinds of soups. Don't you? Not to mention this is a year-round kind, and by that I mean you can of course use fresh peas when they're available but during all other months when peas are not in season you can use frozen. They work beautifully.
Spiced Pea Soup
adapted from Complete Indian Cooking
you'll need:
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil (the recipe calls for gheem which I had never heard of- vegetable oil was suggested as a substitute so this is what I used)
1 large onion, chopped coarsely
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 small potato, peeled and diced
1 inch piece of fresh ginger root, peeled and sliced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
3 1/2 cups vegetable stock
2 cups frozen green peas
1 Tablespoon or more fresh cilantro, chopped plus a few extra leaves for garnish
1 fresh green chile, seeded and diced
1 1/4 cups cream (or half milk, half cream)
salt and pepper to taste
Heat the oil in a large heavy saucepan. Add the onion and garlic and saute over low heat until golden brown and soft, about five minutes or so.
Add the potato, ginger, cumin, and coriander and stir well, making sure the spices coat the potato nicely. Continue cooking over low heat for two to three minutes.
Pour in the vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover the pan, and let gently simmer for fifteen minutes. Add the peas and green chile, and add salt and pepper to taste (1 1/2 teaspoons of salt and 1 teaspoon of pepper was right on for me). Continue to simmer for five minutes.
The next step is to blend. I used a food processor, which worked fine, but if ever there was a time when I wished I owned an immersion blender, this was it. I blended the liquid mixture in four different batches. Twice. Save yourself some time and blend each batch long enough to achieve a silky smooth consistency.
Return the soup back to the pan, add the cream, and heat through. Serve hot with a sprinkling of chopped cilantro leaves.
*If you have a food processor I'm sure you already know how to use it, but I must mention that you should obey the liquid capacity rule and do not fill the container above the printed line. I tell you this as someone who has scoffed at the line, done it my own way, and made a huge mess as a result. Let me make the mistakes first and save you the trouble by sharing them and advising you to do the exact opposite. Sound good? Good. Now hop to it and make this soup. Your cilantro begs of you.
February 20, 2010
seemingly unpretty
This recipe might sound like the utter opposite of anything you'd care to eat on a lazy Saturday morning. If I didn't have such an affinity for cilantro, I'd probably agree. But since I do, and because I once again found myself with a huge bunch of leftover sprigs taking up space on a shelf in the fridge, just aching to be torn, chopped, infused with, tied up into a bouquet and stuffed into a mason jar, anything but wasted, I decided I was going to incorporate the sweet leaves into my breakfast come hell or high water. Cilantro pancakes are a bit weird even for me, and I wasn't digging the idea of cilantro infused oatmeal. But then I found this lovely thing. An Indian version of scrambled eggs with butter, onion, cilantro, and jalapeño. Sold.
Ekuri
from Complete Indian Cooking
You'll need:
4 T butter
1 onion (chopped finely)
2 fresh green chiles (chopped finely)
8 eggs, lightly beaten with 2 T water (my instinct is to substitute water with heavy cream. Don't do it with this recipe. Water works just fine)
1 T finely chopped cilantro leaves
salt to taste
Melt the butter in a pan over medium-low heat. Add the onion and fry until deeply golden. Add the chili pepper to the pan and fry for another 30 seconds. Then add eggs, cilantro, and salt. Cook over low heat, stirring the eggs until scrambled and set. Garnish with a few additional chopped cilantro leaves.
Serves 4, or 2 if you're sharing with me.
Ekuri
from Complete Indian Cooking
You'll need:
4 T butter
1 onion (chopped finely)
2 fresh green chiles (chopped finely)
8 eggs, lightly beaten with 2 T water (my instinct is to substitute water with heavy cream. Don't do it with this recipe. Water works just fine)
1 T finely chopped cilantro leaves
salt to taste
Melt the butter in a pan over medium-low heat. Add the onion and fry until deeply golden. Add the chili pepper to the pan and fry for another 30 seconds. Then add eggs, cilantro, and salt. Cook over low heat, stirring the eggs until scrambled and set. Garnish with a few additional chopped cilantro leaves.
Serves 4, or 2 if you're sharing with me.
February 5, 2010
Coming Soon
A New Blog! This one's for serious, and I plan to dedicate a predetermined number of hours per week to the thing. You see, Peppadew is copyrighted, and even adding an "e" to the end doesn't change the fact that the name is synonomous with the branded pickled jar of peppers, the kind I've come to love so dearly and learned to pine for in the most awfully inconvenient of times.
New look, new name, new concept. And a ton of new recipes. And more cheese, because there wasn't nearly enough of it before. I can't wait.
New look, new name, new concept. And a ton of new recipes. And more cheese, because there wasn't nearly enough of it before. I can't wait.
January 18, 2010
hot and spicy goals
I went to Flushing today and had the best Sichuanese I've ever had. I can't believe it has taken me no less than three and a half years to make the trek. Madness!
Moving along. I sent a list of goals to myself from my computer at work the other day. Rather than keep them to myself, I'm going to publish them here. It'll be fun to look back to see which I achieved and when. Some are pretty lofty, some are attainable tonight, and some are in between. The plan is to come back to this every so often, add to it, and (hopefully) cross off what I've done. Here goes.
Write a cookbook
Volunteer for the UN
Host a fondue dinner party for 8
Cook aRussian Peruvian meal for Dima
(It was Russian, but I made golubtsy and cabbage soup on Saturday - one down!)
Learn to make and master perogies from scratch
Spend one week with my grandmother and bake her a chocolate cake and a lemon meringue pie, or whatever she fancies these days.
Listen to live Spanish guitar and take a flamenco class in Spain
Learn to knit and finish John's afghan that our grandmother started
Recreate a Scropino, like the kind they make here
Travel to Fes for a Moroccan cooking vacation
Visit a cheese farm
Go apple picking in upstate NY and make apple pie, strudel, butter, cider, dumplings, etc
Sky dive
Scuba dive the Blue Hole
Add to my photo collection of food
Take a public speaking class (eek)
Moving along. I sent a list of goals to myself from my computer at work the other day. Rather than keep them to myself, I'm going to publish them here. It'll be fun to look back to see which I achieved and when. Some are pretty lofty, some are attainable tonight, and some are in between. The plan is to come back to this every so often, add to it, and (hopefully) cross off what I've done. Here goes.
Write a cookbook
Volunteer for the UN
Host a fondue dinner party for 8
Cook a
(It was Russian, but I made golubtsy and cabbage soup on Saturday - one down!)
Learn to make and master perogies from scratch
Spend one week with my grandmother and bake her a chocolate cake and a lemon meringue pie, or whatever she fancies these days.
Listen to live Spanish guitar and take a flamenco class in Spain
Learn to knit and finish John's afghan that our grandmother started
Recreate a Scropino, like the kind they make here
Travel to Fes for a Moroccan cooking vacation
Visit a cheese farm
Go apple picking in upstate NY and make apple pie, strudel, butter, cider, dumplings, etc
Sky dive
Scuba dive the Blue Hole
Add to my photo collection of food
Take a public speaking class (eek)
January 12, 2010
loony
You know, when I was a kid I didn't necessarily love to glance at a sky full of puffy clouds and pick out the shapes that I saw among them. Sure I've got vivid memories of this specific activity but I do not recall having a ball while doing so. But today, I thoroughly enjoyed cooling down a cup of piping hot chocolate, blowing into the froth, and watching the shapes form within the white suds that skimmed the surface. It requires a special type of mouth contortion, if you really want to get into it, and it will no doubt draw stares from whoever is around. Your eyes may bulge, a whistle could escape your lips. Be gentle with your breath, though, in order to make it last as long as possible.
Mid afternoonboredom pleasure, my friends. Take my word for it.
Mid afternoon
November 24, 2009
edible daydreams
hot wassail and scalloped oysters-cheddar pimento dip and cranberry ginger salsa-creamed brussel sprouts and devils on horseback-egg nog panna cotta and wild rice with rosemary and cashews-candied yams tucked under a gooey marshmallow blanket-sage and sausage stuffing and yes I love to add the gizzards-garlic mashed potatoes and green bean casserole covered in a heap of fried onions-spiced corn pudding and who cares about the turkey when you have all of this-puzzling and wiggly gelatinous lime-green casserole with olives, of all things, that my uncle insists we have every year because it is "just not a holiday without it"-pumpkin chiffon pie with cinnamon and clove cream-this is what I daydream about while I should be working-recipes to come.
Happy Thanksgiving, precious reader.
Happy Thanksgiving, precious reader.
November 3, 2009
sunday ritual
My new favorite color is the fiery orange of butternut squash, sliced open, the pulpy part. Crazy in love, as in I might paint my bedroom this exact hue if the infatuation continues. I almost forgot how brilliant it is, so clandestine and completely disguised by the milky pale and passive color of its skin, something spectacular that I tend to take for granted when I don't split the gourd myself to see the before and after. But no, then I'll wake up every Sunday morning and any other day, I suppose, and just as soon as my eyes open, thoughts of squash will fill my mind before anything else has a chance. Even breakfast. I think I prefer the empty canvas of my white walls. Makes for a wider array of possibilities.
Last Sunday I woke up bound and determined to bake a pan of pumpkin bread pudding. I strayed a bit, but not regrettably so. My friend Susan declared this the best dish we've ever made together. She shares my love of eating (and cooking) and over the past four + years that I've been lucky enough to know her, we have eaten (and cooked) some food.
The result of our latest undertaking was autumnal perfection on a plate. Or in a bowl, or coffee cup, or whatever dish you choose to use. Pino Luongo suggests a three pound butternut squash is all you need for four servings. You are a master, Pino, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this recipe, but if I may say so, you do not give your roasted squash enough credit. I'd suggest that you, whoever may be reading this, get a heavier squash. If you follow in our footsteps, you will eat a third of it right out of the oven before it even stands a chance of cozying up to the rest of the ingredients. It is caramalized, tender, nutty and slightly salty just like it ought to be with a subtle hint of sage. When combined with sausage, fresh pasta, and cheese, it's magic. Make this, my friend, the whole dish. And feed it to your cherished.
(please excuse the photography. it's not the strong point of this effort, but it promises to improve)
Last Sunday I woke up bound and determined to bake a pan of pumpkin bread pudding. I strayed a bit, but not regrettably so. My friend Susan declared this the best dish we've ever made together. She shares my love of eating (and cooking) and over the past four + years that I've been lucky enough to know her, we have eaten (and cooked) some food.
The result of our latest undertaking was autumnal perfection on a plate. Or in a bowl, or coffee cup, or whatever dish you choose to use. Pino Luongo suggests a three pound butternut squash is all you need for four servings. You are a master, Pino, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this recipe, but if I may say so, you do not give your roasted squash enough credit. I'd suggest that you, whoever may be reading this, get a heavier squash. If you follow in our footsteps, you will eat a third of it right out of the oven before it even stands a chance of cozying up to the rest of the ingredients. It is caramalized, tender, nutty and slightly salty just like it ought to be with a subtle hint of sage. When combined with sausage, fresh pasta, and cheese, it's magic. Make this, my friend, the whole dish. And feed it to your cherished.
(please excuse the photography. it's not the strong point of this effort, but it promises to improve)
Pappardelle with roasted butternut squash, crumbled sweet sausage, and sage
adapted from La Mia Cucina Toscana by Pino Luongo
2 lbs butternut squash pulp cut into a 3/4 inch dice (from a 3 lb squash)
2 bay leaves
3 garlic cloves
10 sage leaves
1 T brown sugar
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
sea salt and black pepper to taste
1 cup crumbled sweet sausage
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup rinsed and finely sliced leek, white and green parts
3/4 cup vegetable stock *I needed about 1/2 cup more than this
1 lb fresh pappardelle
1 lb fresh pappardelle
1/3 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
Preheat oven to 250 degrees.
Place 3 quarters of the butternut squash in a bowl. Add bay leaves, garlic, 4 of the sage leaves, brown sugar, and 4 tablespoons of the olive oi. Add salt and pepper to taste. Toss until well mixed.
Spread the mixture onto a rimmed cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for about 40 minutes, until golden and caramelized.
Warm a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add the sausage and cook until fat is rendered. Drain off the fat, then add wine and let it evaporate, about2 minutes. Set aside.
Warm 2 T of remaining olive oil in a saute pan over medium heat. Add half the leek and saute until wilted, about 2 minutes. Add the rest of the butternut squash and season with salt and pepper. Add the stock and cook until the squash is soft, about 25 minutes. (If the sauce is too thick once the squash is tender, add more stock and warm through). Remove from heat. When this mixture has cooled to just warm, process in blender or food processor to make a thin sauce.
Warm the remaining olive oil in a saute pan large enough to hold the pasta. Add the remaining leek and saute until translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the sausage, remaining sage leaves, and roasted butternut squash (assuming you haven't consumed it all by this point) and cook for 5 minutes. Add the sauce, stirring well, and simmer for 5 more minutes. As the sauce is simmering, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
Add the pappardelle to the boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain the pasta and add to the large saute pan, mixing thoroughly. Sprinkle with Parmigiano.
Divide the pasta and sauce among individual plates and serve at once.
Preheat oven to 250 degrees.
Place 3 quarters of the butternut squash in a bowl. Add bay leaves, garlic, 4 of the sage leaves, brown sugar, and 4 tablespoons of the olive oi. Add salt and pepper to taste. Toss until well mixed.
Spread the mixture onto a rimmed cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for about 40 minutes, until golden and caramelized.
Warm a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add the sausage and cook until fat is rendered. Drain off the fat, then add wine and let it evaporate, about2 minutes. Set aside.
Warm 2 T of remaining olive oil in a saute pan over medium heat. Add half the leek and saute until wilted, about 2 minutes. Add the rest of the butternut squash and season with salt and pepper. Add the stock and cook until the squash is soft, about 25 minutes. (If the sauce is too thick once the squash is tender, add more stock and warm through). Remove from heat. When this mixture has cooled to just warm, process in blender or food processor to make a thin sauce.
Warm the remaining olive oil in a saute pan large enough to hold the pasta. Add the remaining leek and saute until translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the sausage, remaining sage leaves, and roasted butternut squash (assuming you haven't consumed it all by this point) and cook for 5 minutes. Add the sauce, stirring well, and simmer for 5 more minutes. As the sauce is simmering, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
Add the pappardelle to the boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain the pasta and add to the large saute pan, mixing thoroughly. Sprinkle with Parmigiano.
Divide the pasta and sauce among individual plates and serve at once.
October 31, 2009
2 dozen for 24 years
My brother John celebrated a birthday last week. One week and 2 days ago, if we're being precise here. What I really wanted to do for him was to fill a table with all of his homemade favorites. When you live 3 hours away by plane from your closest relative, any day can be a bit lonely, especially a birthday. He is on the West coast, and I'm on the East. I needed a better idea.
I wanted the gift to be edible (as I want all gifts to be) so I turned to my mom's old cookbook to find something that would sustain a cross country trip. Cherry Dream Pie was out, as were Salmon Patties and Chicken Divan (yes these are actual recipes! amazing, no?)
The book is so fantastically retro, covered in a floral pattern of oranges and browns and all of the recipes were hand-picked by her, most passed down from relatives and friends. I love flipping through the yellowed pages decorated with grease-spotted fingerprints, the quotes taped to the pages by authors she admired, her handwritten recipes, the separate section for casseroles. Our cousin Jody kept it and gave it to me last year. Thank you, Jody. It is perfectly and authentically her.
Back to decision making. Cookies? I asked John to name his favorite. He responded with a very unobtrusive nilla wafer? Now, I didn't try very hard to find one, but I'm pretty sure no public recipe exists. It's like the Oreo. Why try when Nabisco's got it perfected?
Anyway. I found this photo a few months ago of the 3 or us. John looks about 4 years old. I love that the cookie is almost the size of his head. It looks like it could be a gingersnap......maybe......oversized........with a bit of imagination? And I just so happened to find a recipe in the binder with my great grandmother's name typed right next to it. Just in case he isn't thrilled (although I simply can't imagine this) there is a yellow box of wafers tucked inside the package, too.
In her recipe, Nana calls for shortening. I used butter and it worked just fine (I'm sorry, Nana). If you do substitute butter, you will want to set your oven at a lower temperature, about 300 degrees. I like a strong essence of ginger, so I used 2 teaspoons instead of 1. The cookies turned out deliciously spicy. There is nothing like the combination of ginger, cinnamon, and cloves. Make these and your kitchen will smell like heaven for hours after they come out of the oven.
Ginger Snaps
from Nana
3/4 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 egg beaten
4 T molasses
2 cups flour
2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1 t ginger
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t ground cloves
Cream shortening/butter and sugar. Add well beaten egg and molasses. Mix dry ingredients well and combine with the first mixture. Form into small balls and dip into cinnamon/sugar mix. Bake on greased pan at 350 degrees for about 12 minutes.
I wanted the gift to be edible (as I want all gifts to be) so I turned to my mom's old cookbook to find something that would sustain a cross country trip. Cherry Dream Pie was out, as were Salmon Patties and Chicken Divan (yes these are actual recipes! amazing, no?)
The book is so fantastically retro, covered in a floral pattern of oranges and browns and all of the recipes were hand-picked by her, most passed down from relatives and friends. I love flipping through the yellowed pages decorated with grease-spotted fingerprints, the quotes taped to the pages by authors she admired, her handwritten recipes, the separate section for casseroles. Our cousin Jody kept it and gave it to me last year. Thank you, Jody. It is perfectly and authentically her.
Back to decision making. Cookies? I asked John to name his favorite. He responded with a very unobtrusive nilla wafer? Now, I didn't try very hard to find one, but I'm pretty sure no public recipe exists. It's like the Oreo. Why try when Nabisco's got it perfected?
Anyway. I found this photo a few months ago of the 3 or us. John looks about 4 years old. I love that the cookie is almost the size of his head. It looks like it could be a gingersnap......maybe......oversized........with a bit of imagination? And I just so happened to find a recipe in the binder with my great grandmother's name typed right next to it. Just in case he isn't thrilled (although I simply can't imagine this) there is a yellow box of wafers tucked inside the package, too.
In her recipe, Nana calls for shortening. I used butter and it worked just fine (I'm sorry, Nana). If you do substitute butter, you will want to set your oven at a lower temperature, about 300 degrees. I like a strong essence of ginger, so I used 2 teaspoons instead of 1. The cookies turned out deliciously spicy. There is nothing like the combination of ginger, cinnamon, and cloves. Make these and your kitchen will smell like heaven for hours after they come out of the oven.
Ginger Snaps
from Nana
3/4 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 egg beaten
4 T molasses
2 cups flour
2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1 t ginger
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t ground cloves
Cream shortening/butter and sugar. Add well beaten egg and molasses. Mix dry ingredients well and combine with the first mixture. Form into small balls and dip into cinnamon/sugar mix. Bake on greased pan at 350 degrees for about 12 minutes.
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