Spending the better part of a week cleaning up after what my hosting company called a “compromise” in this site’s security, I’ve been less than thrilled about settling down to write.  The “compromise” was a serious hacking of numerous files in Sass & Veracity, as well as a fledgling art portfolio site I gave my son for his high school graduation last summer, and for kellementology, the non-food blog I rarely spend time writing any longer.

The clean-up –  many more than the two files the hosting company found and isolated before they alerted me — involved among other things, more than 100 html files tucked into nooks and crannies like a vine creeping through a garden it doesn’t belong in.  At first, it was like looking for that needle in the haystack we so often hear about.  Part of the difficulty is obvious:  I write.  I cook.  I take photos of what I cook.  I don’t always know exactly what code is supposed to look like — especially code that is written to look similar to the real thing. And then there were the seriously creepy “Silence is Golden” comments sitting in several htaccess files.

Ominous.

I didn’t mind doing any of this work.  Ultimately, I enjoy learning, and without looking at the necessary cleaning up as a huge opportunity to learn, I’d have been lost.  That doesn’t mean it wasn’t eyeball-crossing, slower than molasses in January, horribly tedious work, however.  The worst thing about it was finding out the hack job involved Google searches.  I inadvertently clicked on a spelling of my URL I don’t usually apply excluding the customary spaces between Sass and Veracity.  At first I didn’t notice anything, but after scanning the page realized listings of my content contained a variety of references to prescription drugs.  Looking at them more closely, I opened the “cached” versions and an image of my front page and header appeared with all of my pages, links, and post titles actively sporting links to a site selling those drugs.

Worse?  Some of them had the Stumble Upon button posted next to them which means my site was not only being associated with bottom-dwelling scum-sucking creatures of the planet, it was helping to garner traffic to their sites — all of which I’m sure thrive on other people’s hard work.  Interesting, isn’t it?  Someone hacks a site, then submits it to Stumble Upon and makes sure it’s cycled through on a regular basis.

At first I was disgusted.  Then alarm took over when I saw the extent of the compromise, but finally I was resigned to getting it all taken care of by eliminating the infectious files, contacting Google about the spam pages, calling ANHosting to make sure the files contained what I thought they did (insert fear of deleting the wrong files here), referencing the WordPress codex, following the clean-up advice ANHosting provided, and then just waiting to see if everything was fine.

My waiting has actually been more avoidance than anything else, because the entire experience has left me feeling creepy.  Like someone has been in my house.  I’m a productive avoidance practitioner,  continuing to cook and take photos, but I’ve also done quite a bit of thinking about this business of blogging about food, the amount of time it takes, and how much it has inserted itself into the time I used to have for other interests, like gardening, or writing about something other than food.  Paying attention to world events.  Laundry?  So I’ve been outside behind our house enjoying the early Spring weather where I am slowly giving a face lift to my long neglected patio, and thinking about what context to slot this hacking experience into.  Hint:  one that isn’t about pageviews, bounce rates, SEO, ads, who is following whom or “retweeting” what.

Call me cranky.

In the meantime, I’ll share with you what I’ve learned about how to survive — or better yet — help prevent a hacking if you’re interested, and for good measure, my second or third attempt to preserve lemons, gifted to me by my sister-in-law who has a little tree behind her house.

Preserved Lemons

I first learned of preserved lemons after hosting a dinner where my friends and I all prepared dishes from the Middle East, and one of recipes I selected required preserved lemons.  It was too late to make them at that point, but I was so interested in finding out what their flavor might add to the dish, I decided to try and make my own.

17 lemons (10 for cutting & 7 for juicing)

sea salt

1 lg. cinnamon stick

2 bay leaves

1/4 tsp. or so whole black peppercorns

2 pinches coriander seeds

a pinch of whole cloves

a lidded jar large enough to hold all of it, with lemons completely submerged

6 weeks of time

a mildly warm, dark place

Pour enough salt into the bottom of the jar to cover it well.  Cut the stem end off the lemons and slice each into quarters without cutting entirely through them. Pull each open carefully and sprinkle the flesh generously with salt.  Put the lemons into the jar as your work, pressing down on them and sprinkling additional salt. Add the spices to the jar as you proceed as well.  When the jar is full, pour lemon juice over to cover.  Press on the lemons again to completely submerge them in the juice.  Allow to sit, turning the jar once a day and checking the progress.  The lemon rind is ready to use, thoroughly rinsed, pulp removed. in recipes in 6 weeks.  I’ll keep you posted.

Notes:

• I have tried one recipe for preserved lemons that was a complete fail.  The problem seemed to be in not having all the lemons completely submerged even though the recipe I followed did not say to do this.  Sounds like I’m whining, doesn’t it?  Even though my practical cook’s brain told me that food has to be IN the brine or solution it’s being preserved in, I approached the recipe very literally.  Suffice it to say that it provided an interesting moldy experiment in the recesses of my cool, dark laundry room for 2 months and wasted 6 perfectly lovely lemons.
• Adding juice to the jar of lemons vs. simply pushing on them to extract juice seems to also be a point of contrast in the recipes I’ve looked at.  The juiciness of lemons can vary, so follow your lemons so to speak.  Add juice if necessary after pressing down on the packed jar.
• I also tried one of the “quickie” preserved lemon recipes — many which seem to come from Mark Bittman.  I used them in one of his salad recipes and am sad to say they ruined the salad.  So much so that we weren’t able to eat it. Again — great flavor is often achieved because of the process.  When using a quickie recipe, I
• Most sources mention keeping the jar of lemons in the refrigerator, with some saying it isn’t required.  I went with the one that said otherwise since I’m on an experimentation track.  Maybe the third time really is the charm.
• I’ve got 4-5 weeks to go before I can try my preserved lemons in a fabulous dish.  I have my eye on quite a few.

Here are a few additional sources for how to preserve lemons:

• 101 Cookbooks: “Moroccan Preserved Lemons Recipe” — References Chez Panisse Fruit by Alice Waters

• David Lebovitz: “Moroccan Preserved Lemons” – Great step-by-step directions with a suggestion to add a chili (I should have done that!)

• Simply Recipes: “How to Make Preserved Lemons” — Check out the excellent recipe for “Moroccan Chicken with Lemon and Olives” you can make with the preserved lemons.

• Sunday Suppers: “How to Preserve Lemons” — This version includes olive oil.

• NYT Magazine:  “Food; Curious Yellow” — This version by Paula Wolfert is completely different than any I’ve seen and calls for boiling the lemons.

There are many, many more sources for preserving lemons in relatively similar fashion, but making lemon confit requires sugar.  Here’s Eric Ripert’s recipe as published at Food & Wine if you’re curious about it might be used differently than Moroccan style preserved lemon.

Notes on Lessons from a Hacker:

• Keep your WordPress installation, themes, plugins, and widgets updated (I do!).

• If you have plugins or themes you’ve uploaded in the past, but are not being used, delete them from your files instead of simply deactivating them.  Even if your site is routinely updated, the files for the other things won’t be and you’ll have to sift through them as well to find the hacker’s work. (Ask me how I know.)

• Your hosting company is your friend, so it’s helpful to be courteous.  They’d love to get rid of anyone who is putting other clients on the same server in jeopardy.  It’s not their responsibility to keep your site clean.  I was thanked for asking specific questions to help solve the problem instead of expecting them to find and fix it.  Think about it this way:  Is it law enforcement’s job to keep your home safe?  No.  I sound cranky, don’t I?

• WordPress.org:  “Hardening WordPress” — Pay special attention to the info on file permissions

• Install the WordPress Firewall Plugin

• WordPress.org:  “FAQ My site was hacked” — The basics

• “Did your WordPress site get hacked?” – Lots of specific detail with examples

• Get to know what’s available to you at Google Webmaster Tools.  You can report spam there and/or clear your site if it’s been identified as an attack site (thankfully, mine didn’t — or if it has, no one has told me).
• Make lemonade of the lemons.  Here’s my creative depiction of some of the code I removed from my site.

In the months before my youngest was born, my mother suggested to my husband and I that she live with us to care for the baby after I returned to work.  We’d been looking for a larger house since my two older boys were on the verge of their teen years, and adding a third child meant room to stretch would be important for us all.  She knew I wasn’t looking forward to leaving the baby with a caregiver, and was growing tired of her own job, the hours it required, and the physical pain it caused her.  My husband is a far more easy going person than I could ever be, so he agreed and we changed the focus of our search to a home with four or five bedrooms instead of three.

We happened on to the perfect house one day by misreading the directions I’d written down.  An open house was just concluding and the realtors were preparing to leave.  We thought it looked perfect from the outside, but as soon as we entered — all heading in different directions — we were convinced.  It had only one owner in its 40 year history and was unique in so many ways.  Tucked into a hillside on a half acre shaped like a slice of pie, it faced east and overlooked the mature trees in the valley.  The back property hadn’t been cared for in years, but was a wealth of possibilities;  apricot, plum, tangerine, orange, grapefruit, loquat, and nut trees filled the space. It was perfect.

The year we moved in, the winter rains were especially heavy.  Slowly, the parched hillside turned green and bulbs planted years before began to push through layers of fallen leaves.  Sprigs of grape vines and berry bushes also appeared.  Saturday mornings before sunrise, the baby would wake earlier than I wanted, but it allowed us both some time alone.  With a bottle in his hands and coffee in one of mine, we’d walk up the hill in the early quiet of the day to see what new surprise we might find, finally growing after so many years of neglect. I loved that house.

Our trees often produced more than we could enjoy, so after freezer jam had been made, berries frozen, juice made, and sweets baked, we’d pack it up and set it down by the street with a “Free” sign.  It rarely took long for passers by to stop and help themselves to the produce, emptying the buckets we’d carry back up the hill to fill again.

Now, I have to depend on the market for most of what we used to give away, but I have learned recently of many organizations involved in gleaning urban fruit for a variety of purposes.  Whether it’s to gather and donate to those in need, or pluck and enjoy to keep it from rotting on the ground, interest in urban fruit foraging is gathering momentum as we all begin to think more responsibly about food.

I was gifted a big bag of Meyer lemons not too long ago, so had to pair them with the blackberries showing up at the market.  The berries will never compare with those we picked on our hill, but until I find them growing wild in San Diego, I’ll have to be tolerant — or do without.

But then, there is this pie…

Meyer Lemon and Blackberry Chiffon Pie

For the crust…
1-3/4 c. Honey Maid graham crackers (about 12 whole)
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. minced crystallized ginger
1/2 c. unsalted butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350º F. In a large mixing bowl combine graham crumbs, sugar, salt, and minced ginger. Add butter and stir until mixture is evenly moistened.

Transfer crumb mixture to an 8″ x 2″ fluted tart pan with a removable bottom, and press crumbs firmly and evenly onto bottom and up sides to top of dish. Set on a baking sheet and bake about 15 minutes or until crust is firm and slightly darker in color. Allow to cool completely on a baking rack at room temperature.

When completely cool, spread blackberry jam (see below) over the bottom of the crust.  Add a layer of fresh blackberries over the jam and set aside.

For the filling…
3/4 c. strained fresh lemon juice
3/4 c. plus 2 tablespoons sugar
4 large egg yolks
2 tsp. finely grated lemon peel
1/8 tsp. salt
1/4 c. water
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
1-1/4 c. chilled whipping cream
1/4 c. powdered sugar
2 c. ice cubes (or more as needed)

For the blackberry layer…
1/3 c. seedless blackberry jam
10 oz. fresh blackberries

Combine water and gelatin in a small bowl and allow to soften, about 15 minutes. In a medium sauce pan, add cold water and ice cubes to fill half way and set aside.

In a small saucepan mix sugar, lemon juice, egg yolks, grated peel and salt over medium heat. Whisk constantly until mixture thickens (mixture should mound like curd) and thermometer registers 175º F, about 8 minutes. Remove from heat and add gelatin mixture, stirring until smooth.

Place saucepan in ice bath, stirring occasionally and refilling ice as needed until filling is cool to touch, about 10 minutes. Scrape into a large bowl.

In a separate bowl, whip cream until soft peaks form, add sugar, and continue to whip until firm peaks form. Fold 1/4 whipped cream into lemon mixture until combined. Fold in remaining cream in 3 amounts.

Pour lemon filling over the blackberry layer, mounding slightly in center. Chill until set, about 4 hours, or overnight.

Notes:

• This pie is plain delicious, not complicated to make, and can be made a day ahead.  What more could you ask for?
• The original recipe does not include the blackberry layer.
• I saw the original recipe in two places with only one crediting Chef John Folse (who has an amazing number of recipes I plan to drool over in the next few days).
• I used a graham cracker crust recipe I’ve tried before in my Key Lime Cheesecake instead of the gingersnaps called for in the original recipe and added the crystallized ginger.  Honestly, I don’t think I could taste the ginger.
• Lemon and blackberry compliment one another perfectly, but what doesn’t go well with lemon?  Raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries are all tasty and would work in this pie.  Or, you could use a mixture.
• I reduced the amount of lemon zest because the amount of lemon juice in this recipe is substantial.  The result is excellent, so I can only imagine that three times the zest would make an extremely tart pie.  Maybe.
• The crust is fabulous with this.  It’s crunchy and holds up against the filling perfectly.  No soggy crust at all!
• It stores in the fridge just fine with no covering.
• Have too many lemons?  Remove the zest and freeze it for later.  Squeeze the juice from the lemons, measure 1 T of juice and pour each into the container of a plastic ice cube tray.  When they’re frozen, pop them into baggies to store.
• Avoid storing your citrus with apples.  It will ripen and mold very quickly!

Urban Foraging, Gleaning, and Giving:

• Neighborhood Fruit — Nationwide organization that connects people who want to find and/or share fruit, as well as forage for fruit growing on public property
• Ample Harvest — Organization that helps gardeners with surplus fruit and vegetables donate to those in need.
• Village Harvest — Organization that promotes sustainable use of urban resources by organizing backyard fruit harvesting for donation to the needy as well as provide education about fruit tree care, harvesting, and preservation.  Great backyard orchard resources.
• The Fruit Tree Planting Foundation — FTPF plants edible fruit trees world wide to benefit the environment and its inhabitants
• Fallen Fruit — Los Angeles organization that works to redevelop the idea of community and the relationship between those who have resources and those who don’t
• Veggie Trader — An organization working to put backyard produce to work for the community, the environment, and those in need

We’ve been eating quite a bit of soup and salad lately.  With the business of our lives, it often seems to be the only way to make sure we don’t fall into the take-out habit, or worse, microwaved frozen food.  Call me a food snob — or better yet, consider that it’s not challenging to make a healthy meal that doesn’t take a lot of time and goes easy on the wallet.

Picture this:  my husband and I pass through the house each morning getting ready for work and I begin to think about any excuse not to have to stop at the market on the way home.  I mull over the contents of the veggie bin while I’m brushing my teeth, and search my fuzzy memory for ingredients  that may be languishing in the pantry.

“There are carrots I could make some soup with,” I begin staring into my mirror.

“That would be good,” he mutters, peering into his mirror,  busy with his own routine.

“And there are those apples you forget to eat on a regular basis.  I saw a recipe for a salad I want to try — but I’m not quite sure what condition the celery is in.  Do we have lemons?”  I call from the closet as I’m trying to figure out what to squeeze myself into for the day.

“Anything you make will be good,” he says from his side of the closet, “and I have been eating an apple a day.”

I head down the stairs, give a quick look in the fridge, and grab my coffee before running out the door and calling my goodbyes feigning success in the accomplishment of a dinner plan.

Jump ahead 11 hours.  It’s about 6PM and we’re both home.  Our son has come downstairs to graciously share himself with us, then flops on the couch to figure out what we’ll watch that evening.  My husband and I start peeling and chopping, sauteeing and blending.  On most days within an hour of arriving home — give or take a half hour for diversions — we’re all in the family room  talking about the day, slurping soup, eating salad and enjoying a DVRd show one of us has lobbied for.

On one such night, we tried a new spin on an old classic:  Waldorf Salad.  When I think of why I’ve never liked it, the mayonnaise would be the reason.  As much as I enjoy most salads, slathering a fatty dressing on one has never appealed to me.  If you’re like me or at least interested in something seasonal, but more healthy, try this.  It will be a part of our Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Waldorf Salad sans Mayo

1/2 c. walnuts, toasted lightly and chopped
1 T minced shallot
zest of 1/2 lemon, finely grated
juice of 1/2 lemon, freshly squeezed
1 T white wine vinegar
1/8 c. fruity extra virgin olive oil
2 T walnut oil
dash ground cumin
salt & cracked pepper to taste
mache or other soft salad greens
2 lg. radishes, thinly sliced
1/4 red onion, sliced thinly
2 ribs celery, sliced
hand full of golden raisins
1 crisp apple such as Braeburn, Fuji, or Granny Smith
crumbled goat’s cheese
(cored and sliced into thin wedges)

Toast the walnuts in a skillet over medium low heat, tossing occasionally to avoid burning.  Remove from skillet and set aside when they become aromatic.

Make the dressing by combining the shallot, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vinegar.  Add the oils in a slow drizzle, whisking as you go.  Add the cumin, salt and pepper, then taste and correct seasoning.

On a large platter or individual salad plates, create a bed of the greens and set aside.   Toss the apples, celery, radishes, and onions with enough of the dressing to coat the vegetables, but reserve a bit to pour on later.  Pour the mixture over the bed of greens, then top with raisins, walnuts, and sprinkle with goat’s cheese.

Enjoy a perfect bite loaded with each of the flavors and textures of this great salad.

Notes:

• This recipe was adapted from Food & Wine’s “Lemony Waldorf Salad” which appeared in the November 2009 issue.
• The original recipe calls for twice the oil and canola instead of the extra virgin olive that I used, but I have trouble adding that much oil to any salad and don’t love canola.  Walnut oil has a distinctive flavor which adds a pleasant taste to this salad.  Add a bit at a time to the dressing if you’ve not tried it before.  I use La Tourangelle brand walnut oil which I am lucky to find at my local market.  It’s not as expensive as hazelnut oil which is fabulous.
• Mache is a lovely, delicate salad green with a taste not unlike greenleaf or butter lettuce.  It’s my favorite and can be found at Whole Foods or, if you’re lucky, Trader Joe’s.
• I included the goat’s cheese to provide not only a bit of tang, but hint toward the creaminess in the traditional Waldorf — which actually included only mayonnaise, celery, and apples served on a bed of lettuce.  Don’t even tell me you use Miracle Whip in salad.  Please.
• Some may want to pass on the raisins, but they truly add a pleasant flavor to this.  Give them a try.
• To make ahead, prep all the veggies and make the dressing.  It’s easy to plate when everything is ready at the last minute.
• We never had salad for Thanksgiving when I was growing up — unless you count jello salad as salad.  I added non-giggly salad to our menu when my boys were quite little hoping to slow the meal down a bit to enjoy courses.  We still do that and enjoy it quite a bit.  I could be convinced to try something giggly again, however.

Some of you may know that I was asked to do a guest post for Tartelette.    You know, The Tartelette?

Yes.  I know.

Of course I had a few moments of the puffy ego syndrome after an initial self-indulgent happy dance before I snapped out of it and began to fret about what to make.  Ohhhhhh, the sweet agony of making this particular decision.  I’m a meat and veggie type of person, comfortable with trying a bit of this and a bit of that.  I have a fondness for salad and greens, and a little addiction for the perfect muffin.  But making something special that would look like it belonged up front and center on Tartelette’s site?

Well.  You have no idea the fuss I made over this.  You’d have thought the Queen of England was coming to dinner.  Seriously.  But I had so much fun.  Far more fun than I’d have had if I’d needed to choose a little black dress for an event as swanky as that.

I don’t do little black dresses.  Ever.

But I learned quite a bit making A Pavola for Tartelette — or Helen, who is quite the amazing person if you’re fortunate enough to know her.

I hope you take some time to visit her, read my post,  and decide what you think of my Pavlova — definitely more of a tutu than a little black dress if you ask me.

And no, I don’t do tutus, either.  It just might conjure images of dancing hippos instead of ballerinas.

Because I didn’t include my usual notes with the recipe posted at Tartelette, I thought I’d add them here:

• This is surprisingly an easy recipe to make.  Truly!
• I wanted to make smaller Pavlovas, but decided that due to Murphy’s Law, I’d stick to the recipe — sort of.
• An approximate 7″ diameter circle is called for, and honestly I had a huge amount of meringue, so surely I wasn’t expected to mound all of it in that seeemingly too small circle.
• I  made an additional smaller square about 4 ” wide.  I positioned them both on the same sheet thinking there wouldn’t be that much spread.
• Well, I was wrong.  Wrong enough that the two did co-mingle in the oven.
• Speaking of the oven, I did not use convection and baked the pavlovas for the required time.  I did not open the oven during baking and did make sure to prop the oven door open as required for an entire hour.
• Unfortunately, the parchment stuck to the bottom of both meringues, so I had to lift the entire piece of parchment off the baking sheet and sort of slide it onto the counter where I cut around the base of it.
• Any cracking done to either meringue had already been done in the oven during the cool down period.
• I decided to mix all the whipped cream with the curd to lighten it in texture as much as flavor.  The fruit combination I chose is tart, so I wanted something a bit more creamy to go with it.  I think this was a great decision because the flavor was perfect!
• I had a huge amount of the curd as well, so was able to mound it in both meringues, and have some additional for a bowl with fruit.
• I was hugely surprised that this kept as well as it did.  No, I wouldn’t have normally done this, but it was quite late by the time I was finished and so put the entire thing in the fridge.  It was still beautiful the next day!
• To truly make this ahead, I’d keep all components separate, and at the last minute, spoon on the lemon cream, load with fruit and serve.
• I’d say if you’re someone who likes an adventure, then this one’s for you.  It was for me!

Dear Nick Malgieri,

I saw your Ginger Sandwich Cookies filled with lemon cream in a recent issue of Food & Wine magazine and decided I’d give them a try.  Although gingersnaps have never been and will never be a cookie I find myself craving, the lemon filling did catch my attention and I thought that with the ginger, the flavor could be exceptional.

Although that did not disappoint, the molasses, on the other hand, gave me pause because the last time I made cookies that had molasses in them, the results were less than appealing until I bent them into submission after much trial and error.

Now I know I’m far from perfect on most days, but I have had a modest amount of experience cooking and baking with great success — thankfully more times than not.  I also use excellent equipment and so cannot blame poor result on either of those factors.

What I’m left with is a question, and I’m asking it of you since this is your recipe and the photograph chosen to illustrate the intended results looks far different than mine — especially my first batch.

• When baking cookies with molasses, is there something I just don’t understand?  What causes them to spread so?  I know sugar in general causes that, and when using molasses, a smaller quantity is needed, as in this recipe which calls for only 1/4 cup.  Could it be the brand of molasses?  I use Grandma’s which is just about the only kind I’ve ever used, and the jar I used for this batch was opened recently.
• Although keeping a very close eye on the Ginger Sandwich cookies during the required bake time, I realized I needed to remove them from the oven only half way through the expected 20-minute baking time, and even then, the cookies were far too done.  Actually, burnt.
• I prefer to use convection settings for everything except for recipes with a high quantity of egg, so am used to reducing the heat and cooking time to compensate for that choice. However, because of the previous results, I chose not to use convection heat for this recipe.  On the second batch, again, with only 7 minutes of the baking time elapsed, I had to remove the cookies.

Mr. Malgieri, I know that often, baking is an adventure, and I accept that most of the time.  Because I’m used to reading recipes, I can usually spot one that I think could be problematic, and with this recipe, the cooking time did get my attention.  Cookies rarely bake that long.  Nevertheless, I proceeded like the trusting home cook I am.

I will say your ginger cookies are lovely tasting with a nice bite — chewy, with a pleasant tartness from the lemon cream which blends well with the overall sweetness.  Very, very nice.  I just wish I’d done them justice.  So I’m curious and would enjoy trying these again, but detest wasting food so need some direction.

Did Food & Wine misprint the recipe?  Or am I just someone who should step away from the molasses?

With the utmost respect,
Kelly

p.s.  They stack pretty good though!

Nick Malgieri’s Ginger Sandwich Cookies

For the cookies…
1-1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda
2 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 c. +  2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
3/4 c. sugar
1 lg. egg, at room temperature
1/4 c. unsulfured molasses

For the filling…

6 T unsalted butter, softened
2 c. powdered sugar
1-1/2 T fresh lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and position racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven.  Line baking sheets with parchment or silicone.

In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon and salt. In the bowl of a
standing electric mixer fitted with the paddle, beat the butter and
sugar at medium speed until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Beat in the egg and
molasses. Add the dry ingredients and beat at low speed until
incorporated, scraping down the bowl.

Working in 2 batches, drop scant tablespoons of the dough onto the
baking sheets, 3 inches apart. Bake the cookies for 20 minutes, until
risen and fallen and slightly firm; shift the sheets from top to bottom
and front to back halfway through for even baking. Let cool slightly,
then transfer the parchment paper to racks and let the cookies cool
completely.

Bake the remaining cookies.

To make the filling, in the bowl of a
standing electric mixer fitted with the paddle, beat the butter with
the confectioners’ sugar at medium speed until light and fluffy, about
3 minutes then beat in the lemon juice.

Arrange the cookies in pairs on a large work surface. Spoon or pipe
1 rounded tablespoon of the lemon filling onto the flat side of half of
the cookies. Sandwich with the remaining cookies, pressing them
together so the filling spreads to the edge.

Notes:

• Using a tablespoon, I dropped dough less than the 3″ recommended.  I know.  It’s there for all the world to see on the silicone mat.  But that didn’t have anything to do with the cookies being burnt in only half the baking time.
• So the second go round I balled the dough hoping for something that didn’t spread so rapidly.  Standing in front of the oven and watching through the glass, I removed the cookies at 7 minutes with some edges still getting ready to burn.
• As you can see by my results, I desperately need a cookie scooper so that I, too, can have cookies that are EXACTLY the same size.
• If you have knowledge that I am clearly lacking about any of this, by all means, please let me know.  In fact, I encourage you to try this recipe because the taste is definitely excellent.  I guess I just can’t make cookies that are of the “snap” variety.
• I did mail these cookies to Breadchick aka Mary of The Sourdough, however, who lives about 3,000 miles from here, so I guess the good news would be that they travel well.  Maybe.  I haven’t seen a photo of the condition they arrived in!

Batch 1 and Batch 2: Dropped as directed, and the second time, rolled and increased quantity.  No.  I have no scientific reason for increasing the quantity in Batch 2.

This is Batch 1:   Fairly uniformly shaped, but at 10 minutes, burnt.  My husband liked them anyway.  Go figure.

This is Batch 2:  They’re larger, but I took them out at 7 minutes so managed to save them.  You can see where the edges were beginning to burn.  These were more chewy and not crisp like the first batch.

Day Seven of our 12 Days of Cookies Extravaganza brings a bit of sunshine on a day that surprisingly absent of it, which makes it a very pleasant day to be baking.  I’d like to say that Bing is crooning holiday songs on the Bose and there’s a fire crackling in the family room, but I’ll have to wait at least a week for that.

My 16-year-old chose these delicately lemon-flavored “glittering” cookies from the stack I’d bookmarked because he thought they’d be a nice change from the others I’ve been making. At first, I wasn’t thrilled because citrus-flavored baked goods make me think of Spring or Summer, but I’m glad I listened to him, because these are quite the lovely treat.

One of Gourmet’s Favorite Cookies from December of 2008, I’d say this is the best recipe I’ve tried so far.  They aren’t fussy to make even though they appear to be headed for a bridal shower or elegant afternoon tea.  In one or two bites, you’re treated to an exterior crunch of sugar, a flaky cookie, and a light butter cream that only hints of lemon.

Absolutely perfect.

Glittering Lemon Sandwich Cookies