At the time, my kids were 12, 11 and the twins were five, the peak of what should be delighting in holiday magic. And I couldn’t bring myself to put the second half of the ornaments on the tree. They lay there in the Rubbermaid bins, scoffing at me as I rushed past them on my way to work.
The cookies we deliver to our neighbors with a near obsessive regularity weren’t getting made. The gingerbread house sat in the box on a faraway shelf, nearly forgotten about. The gifts weren’t being purchased, instead left in virtual carts all over the internet, intimidated by price tags.
The elves that move around the house causing mischief on a nightly basis were lethargic, staying in the same place for week long stretches. The holiday assembly was marked in my calendar but it was unclear if I was actually going to attend.
Teachers’ gifts hadn’t even been planned, let alone purchased.
Everywhere I looked there was merriness being made and I couldn’t bring myself to make any of it. If anything, the merry around me increased my melancholy.
Exhausted after the longest day, I arrived home from work to the kids lined up, smiling mischievously. The last thing I need is another mess to clean up or fire to put out, I thought, and made a silent plea that no one needed a trip to the hospital or a special parent teacher meeting.
The oldest one grabbed my hand.
“Come with us,” she said.
“Where are we going? I have to start some laundry.”
“Just outside, just for a second,” her smile grew. The rest of the kids following behind, giggling.
She led me out to the front porch where, while I was at work, they had strung Christmas lights on every surface, securing them with bright blue painter’s tape. They sparkled in haphazard patterns, drooping from loosened tape, from one side of the porch to the other and back again.
This tiny gesture changed something in me but it wasn’t my heart that needed to grow, I knew I was more than capable of deep and consistent love. But this, this was a perspective awakening and a much needed reminder.
There wasn’t and isn’t anything I could do to ruin Christmas. It was never about the Christmas cookies or decorated tree. These traditions provide frosting on an already delicious cookie. So no matter how your season is going, if you’re able to complete all the things on your list or not, you’re doing enough.
Christmas happened that year, somehow. My kids look back and instead of seeing all the things that I didn’t do. They see the things that I did, sometimes against all odds.
They see that we did and will always exist as a unit of unbendable love, completely undisturbed by all the extras.
But, cookies are still nice. And if you can get to them, these are always a favorite.
”But First, Food” columnist Whitney Kling is a recipe developer who lives in southwest Ohio with her four kids and a cat. She is usually in the kitchen creating something totally addictive — and usually writing about it.
Dark Chocolate Shortbread
Recipe by Alison Roman
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (2 1/4 sticks) cold salted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
6 ounces semisweet or bittersweet dark chocolate, chopped (but not too fine, you want chunks, not thin shards of chocolate)
1 large egg, beaten to blend
Demerara sugar (for rolling)
Flaky sea salt
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Using an electric mixer and a medium bowl or a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, both sugars, and vanilla on medium-high till it’s super light and fluffy, 3-5 minutes. Using a spatula, scrape down the sides of the bowl and, with the mixer on low, slowly add the flour, followed by the chocolate chunks, and beat just to blend.
Divide the dough in half, placing each half on a large piece of plastic wrap. Fold the plastic over so that it covers the dough to protect your hands from getting all sticky. Using your hands (just like you’re playing with clay), form the dough into a log shape; rolling it on the counter will help you smooth it out, but don’t worry about getting it totally perfect. You can also do this using parchment paper, if you prefer, but I find using plastic wrap easier when it comes to shaping the log. Each half should form two logs 2 to 2 1/4 inches in diameter. Chill until totally firm, about 2 hours.
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Brush the outside of the logs with the beaten egg and roll them in the Demerara sugar (this is for those really delicious crispy edges).
Slice each log into 1/2-inch-thick rounds, place them on the prepared baking sheet(s) about 1 inch apart (they won’t spread much), and sprinkle with flaky salt. Bake until the edges are just beginning to brown, 12-15 minutes. Let cool slightly before eating them all.
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