Mrs T’s Ginger and Single-Malt Cookies.

It’s that time of the year again. Gingerbread and single malt cookies. Things are looking good. This is a recipe for really rather yummy gingerbread cookies for grown-ups. Meaning not too sweet. Lovely and gingery on the tongue. With a lingering single-malty after taste.

The first step in the preparation of Mrs T’s Gingerbread Cookies is the purchase of right kind of single malt. Laphroaig is our favourite but I understand Balvenie has been known to render pleasant results.

You will need the following ingredients (to end up with enough to fill a generous six-inch cookie jar):

400g of spelt flour – worth the extra search
100g of butter – use the good stuff, really, it’s worth it – and unsalted!
two tablespoons of honey
110g of dark muscovado cane sugar (oh, yeah!)
half a (flat) teaspoon of baking powder
100ml of maple syrup
two small eggs – if you have large ones, improvise
two teaspoons of nutmeg and clove powder (proportions to suit)
half a teaspoon of cinnamon powder – flat or not, as you like it
three cardamom pods – just the seeds, Martha, just the seeds… (crush ‘em, too, of course)

Naturally, you will also require ginger, in powdered form. The exact amount is a matter of personal taste. Three teaspoons seem to do it for us. Now you’re ready to start.

Pour half a whisky tumbler of single malt. Add a few drops of water. Toast the year which has been and the one which is coming soon.

Mix all of the dry ingredients in an over-sized bowl. Melt the butter in a thick-bottomed pan, add honey, syrup and sugar. Slowly melt it all, bring to a simmer and leave aside for 20 minutes or so. Pick up the single malt bottle and read the label. It’s quite educational what information may be gleaned from these scant pieces of paper. Toast Christmas and goodwill to all mankind.

If you know what you’re doing with a whisk, use one on the bowl and its contents. For the rest of us it’s time to put everything into a cake mixer or kitchen whiz. It’s also time to review the content of the tumbler and toast our surroundings and one’s better half.

Mix the dry and wet ingredients on a slow cycle, add the eggs and mix till it all resembles a fairly dry play dough. Take it out and work into a ball with your hands. Don’t forget to disinfect them internally with the single malt first. If the dough sticks to your hands then add a little flour. Only a bit at a time to make it dry.

Wrap the ball of dough in food wrap and put in the fridge for a minimum of an hour and a half. More if you want to enjoy another glass of single malt and some civilised conversation with your other half for a bit.

Now comes the fun bit. Take out your cookie cutters. Of course you need the right ones – bunnies and egg-shapes are generally used at another time of the year. We’re talkin’ wee fir trees, stars, tiny bells and such things. We found our set after weeks of searching at a supermarket in town. The effort one puts into these things… Anyway, now’s the time to put on the Garbarek CD and get rollin’. The quality of your rolling pin will govern the fineness of the cookies so if you’re getting one especially then be sure to get something that is fit for the purpose. Marble’s good, professional quality steel’s nice too. If it’s a plastic job then it needs to be heavy and generally decent-feeling. Cheap rolling pins do not render results which score highly on the “mmmm” scale. Wood, just as a personal note, is best used inside the fireplace.

So, to work. After a celebratory swig of the single malt, after all we’re nearly at the end of the journey here, take the ball of dough out of the fridge and make sure it’s a good regular shape. (The amounts above give you a ball about the size of two fists.) Cut off slabs that are roughly 1.5 cm or somewhere in the vicinity of a half inch in thickness and roll ‘em, roll ‘em, roll ‘em. The trick to rolling dough is not to use too much force, especially at the beginning and definitely not at the end. Nor, particularly, in the middle of the rolling process. Think purposeful caressing rather than heavy-handed intimidation by a Central-Asian regime. It needs to take a bit of time or else the slabs will crumble and you’ll have to start over. For courage, use liberal dashes of single malt. The general idea is to end up with large petals of dough, a couple of millimetres in thickness. No more or the little blighters won’t bake evenly. And be sure to use a sprinkling of flour on the board.

Now you get to use the cookie cutters. Safety Notice: make sure the blades are sterile. I’m sure you can figure out what you have to use for that purpose. Practical Notice: every time you finish cutting a sheet of dough you will end up with some excess bits. Roll them up and work them into a ball before you work them over with the rolling pin again. It’s worth the extra effort.

Bake the trees, stars, etc. on a tray lined with baking paper, in an oven pre-heated to 175 degrees Celsius. If you have fan-forced baking function, use it. (Use Wikipedia or, better yet, Wolfram Alpha to convert to Fahrenheit.) Bake the cookies till the edges begin to darken – which will only take a few minutes. Do not wait till you’ve cut up all the dough but bake in batches. Trust me on this one. Take out and cool before you put them in the cookie jar or else they’ll sweat and you’ll end up with “cookies and no cream” version, which is not what you want.

Once cooled, grab a handful (you ought to have plenty, from the proportions above), pick up the tumbler and single malt bottle – assuming there’s any left – and head for the room with a fireplace or, if you’re in the Southern Hemisphere (lucky sods), the deck. Sample at will.

There you have it. Ginger and single malt cookies. Great any time of year. Particularly agreeable at Christmas. Have a Merry one. And a good year in 2010.