Looking for a roundup of 2013's best tunes? Head on over to the Stafford music blog for his lists of the Top 20 Songs and Top 15 Albums of 2013.
I was invited to contribute the latest post for the #1 album, Laura Marling's Once I Was an Eagle, a personal favorite of mine. Give her a listen below.
Happy New Year, everyone! May the year ahead be full of good health and cheer, great company and food, and excellent music throughout it all!
31 December 2013
30 December 2013
An Instrument of Peace
As 2013 draws to a close, I find myself in a position very similar to that of two years ago, facing the new year ahead with a renewed sense of purpose. At the end of 2011 my dear Grandma passed away, leaving a legacy of tenderness and grace, and a family deeply devoted to the wonderful woman who made our lives special. At the head of this family was Pop, Granny's husband, partner, lifelong love, and best friend. In observing Pop in the time that followed Granny's death I learned a great deal about love, how it truly carries on even beyond death.
I also saw a living testament to the human spirit in Pop. Although he was grieving the loss of his other half, he continued to be a man full of humor and optimism, determination and courage, generosity and kindness, faith and wisdom. He carried the torch he and Grandma tended for 60 years together, full of all the goodness they built in the world, including our family.
In November of this year Pop passed away, joining his wife at rest. He fought an extremely difficult battle in the last months of his life, but again did not lose who he was. His humor shone through his pain and his primary concern continued to be not himself, but the well being of the others around him. He was the epitome of a class act, and demonstrated how to live with honor, humility, and selflessness until the very end.
These times of remembering our grandparents put things into a stark light, reminding us of what the important life pursuits are. Surrounding yourself with those whom you care about and who care about you. Filling each day with love. Giving of yourself to others. Living with honesty and dignity. Working hard to build a happy, simple life.
The past year has been full of many events in my life: some happy and some sad, some trying and some uplifting. There is no shortage of personal lessons or a list of things to improve. But I feel that the most fitting and important lessons I can take into 2014 - and all new years to follow - are those examples imparted to me by Pop's life.
Pop was a man of extraordinary character. A humble, patient man who treated all people with respect and justice. He was a living, breathing history book, conveying detailed accounts of his life and the stories of generations who came before him. And he did it all with a smile, spreading joy to us listeners with his countless jokes and unending good humor.
I remember Pop telling me once that every day, going to work as a police officer, he would repeat the Prayer of St. Francis in his head. It was the example by which he wanted to live, the way he wanted to model his life when interacting with people he encountered. I believe that whether you are religious or not, these words are beautiful and humbling and provide an unerring guide to follow in life. They remind one to pause and think before one acts, to put others before oneself, and to act with purpose. The words capture perfectly how Pop lived his life and, as such, are a perfect place to begin with new resolutions.
.
I also saw a living testament to the human spirit in Pop. Although he was grieving the loss of his other half, he continued to be a man full of humor and optimism, determination and courage, generosity and kindness, faith and wisdom. He carried the torch he and Grandma tended for 60 years together, full of all the goodness they built in the world, including our family.
In November of this year Pop passed away, joining his wife at rest. He fought an extremely difficult battle in the last months of his life, but again did not lose who he was. His humor shone through his pain and his primary concern continued to be not himself, but the well being of the others around him. He was the epitome of a class act, and demonstrated how to live with honor, humility, and selflessness until the very end.
These times of remembering our grandparents put things into a stark light, reminding us of what the important life pursuits are. Surrounding yourself with those whom you care about and who care about you. Filling each day with love. Giving of yourself to others. Living with honesty and dignity. Working hard to build a happy, simple life.
The past year has been full of many events in my life: some happy and some sad, some trying and some uplifting. There is no shortage of personal lessons or a list of things to improve. But I feel that the most fitting and important lessons I can take into 2014 - and all new years to follow - are those examples imparted to me by Pop's life.
Pop was a man of extraordinary character. A humble, patient man who treated all people with respect and justice. He was a living, breathing history book, conveying detailed accounts of his life and the stories of generations who came before him. And he did it all with a smile, spreading joy to us listeners with his countless jokes and unending good humor.
I remember Pop telling me once that every day, going to work as a police officer, he would repeat the Prayer of St. Francis in his head. It was the example by which he wanted to live, the way he wanted to model his life when interacting with people he encountered. I believe that whether you are religious or not, these words are beautiful and humbling and provide an unerring guide to follow in life. They remind one to pause and think before one acts, to put others before oneself, and to act with purpose. The words capture perfectly how Pop lived his life and, as such, are a perfect place to begin with new resolutions.
Make me an instrument of peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
.
 |
| E.A.G., September 10, 1929 - November 5, 2013 |
05 May 2013
In and Out
It was a truly wonderful weekend here in New York. Spring has been taking its sweet time to fully arrive, but it sure made an appearance over the last few days.
Weekends like this seem to last forever, creating a refreshingly long escape from the workweeks on either end. We fill up every possible minute of the two days, whether dashing outside to catch the last hours of sunshine or ducking back indoors to avoid the cool night winds, trying to forget that real warm temperatures haven't been hit yet. I spend my weekend doing my fair share of both, and had a great time both in and out.
We walked on to Prospect Park, where the Long Meadow lawn was full of sun bathers, kite flyers, picnickers, runners, and ball players all enjoying the glory of the day. After lunch we tried to treat ourselves to some cones of salted caramel ice cream from Ample Hills, but the line of folks who already had the same idea trailed out the door, sadly preventing us from doing so. When my family had left, I ventured back to the park to join the people reclining in the Long Meadow grass, perfectly at leisure to soak in the last rays of the day's warmth.
Today was the perfect Spring Sunday for splitting time in and out of doors. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains to wake us up and the breeze filled the apartment with a crisp, fresh feeling. Michael and I went, yet again, to the area between the park and the Grand Army Plaza Arch. Every Saturday, all year round, this space is filled with the farmers and vendors of the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket. And now that the warm weather months are upon us, the Food Truck Rally has returned. On the first and third Sundays of each month food trucks from around the city converge to serve up delicious meals and treats. Today Mike had a cheesesteak from Phil's Steaks and I had one of my all-time favorites, a falafel sandwich from Taim. There's no better way to start a day than to delight in an outdoor meal, in my opinion.
After a long stroll back through the neighborhood to take in the early part of the day outside and try a second time for an Ample Hills treat, we headed to MoMA PS1 in Queens for a bit of time indoors. A contemporary and experimental art space and affiliate of the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, today PS1 was showing a performance arranged by an Icelandic artist called A Lot of Sorrow inside a large, domelike tent. This piece consisted of one of our favorite bands, The National, playing their song "Sorrow" in a loop for six hours straight, from noon to six. It may sound unconventional or "out there," but it was an extremely interesting experience. The song itself is calming and hypnotic, with a driving beat that kept the band going as the song would end and start right back up again. It didn't at all feel tiring to hear one song again and again (though I can't say with certainty that the band felt the same way). It speaks of the title word pervading the narrator's life - from "when [he] was young," to the present, in his honey and in his milk. It was soothing and poignant and light-hearted all at once. The band members had high spirits and must have had legs of steel as their music swayed the crowd and mingled with the breeze from the open doorways.
Back outside, in the fading daylight, The National's song continued to run through my head. I expect that it will for some time, perhaps even until I see them again in June. But that's how all good weekends should end, with their events replaying in your mind as you wind down on Sunday night, lulling you into a contented sleep. The past week is long gone, the week ahead will come in due time. The weekend has given you its all. For now, everything is perfect.
Weekends like this seem to last forever, creating a refreshingly long escape from the workweeks on either end. We fill up every possible minute of the two days, whether dashing outside to catch the last hours of sunshine or ducking back indoors to avoid the cool night winds, trying to forget that real warm temperatures haven't been hit yet. I spend my weekend doing my fair share of both, and had a great time both in and out.
Friday followed up an especially gorgeous Thursday, so I decided not to take a jacket to work with me. By the end of the day, however, with the setting sun settling behind some clouds, the winds had picked up and I was regretting my decision. Lucky for me, Michael and I had a date that evening which brought us inside, to a place called Milk & Honey. After reading about M&H in the Times, we made a last-minute reservation. Cozied into a candlelit corner by the bar, we watched the bartender whip up custom cocktails for us and our fellow patrons of this modern-day speakeasy. Michael opted for bourbon drinks while I chose gin. With drink names like the "Bee Keeper" and the "Sunflower," Spring was channeled into liquid form inside Milk & Honey that night. Old time jazz played as we sipped our drinks of choice and made friends with our waitress. I dared not take pictures, though, for fear that it is a faux pas to bring out a camera inside a speakeasy.
On Saturday, my parents and youngest sister came to pay a visit to Brooklyn. It couldn't have been a more beautiful day! It seemed all of Brooklyn bolted outside, happy to feel the sun on our faces, to finally be free of winter's grip (or at least we all hope we are). We strolled through the neighborhood over to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, where the cherry blossom trees are in full bloom. The garden's paths were filled with admirers, ogling at the colorful beauty and taking the air on the Cherry Esplanade.
On Saturday, my parents and youngest sister came to pay a visit to Brooklyn. It couldn't have been a more beautiful day! It seemed all of Brooklyn bolted outside, happy to feel the sun on our faces, to finally be free of winter's grip (or at least we all hope we are). We strolled through the neighborhood over to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, where the cherry blossom trees are in full bloom. The garden's paths were filled with admirers, ogling at the colorful beauty and taking the air on the Cherry Esplanade.
Today was the perfect Spring Sunday for splitting time in and out of doors. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains to wake us up and the breeze filled the apartment with a crisp, fresh feeling. Michael and I went, yet again, to the area between the park and the Grand Army Plaza Arch. Every Saturday, all year round, this space is filled with the farmers and vendors of the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket. And now that the warm weather months are upon us, the Food Truck Rally has returned. On the first and third Sundays of each month food trucks from around the city converge to serve up delicious meals and treats. Today Mike had a cheesesteak from Phil's Steaks and I had one of my all-time favorites, a falafel sandwich from Taim. There's no better way to start a day than to delight in an outdoor meal, in my opinion.
After a long stroll back through the neighborhood to take in the early part of the day outside and try a second time for an Ample Hills treat, we headed to MoMA PS1 in Queens for a bit of time indoors. A contemporary and experimental art space and affiliate of the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, today PS1 was showing a performance arranged by an Icelandic artist called A Lot of Sorrow inside a large, domelike tent. This piece consisted of one of our favorite bands, The National, playing their song "Sorrow" in a loop for six hours straight, from noon to six. It may sound unconventional or "out there," but it was an extremely interesting experience. The song itself is calming and hypnotic, with a driving beat that kept the band going as the song would end and start right back up again. It didn't at all feel tiring to hear one song again and again (though I can't say with certainty that the band felt the same way). It speaks of the title word pervading the narrator's life - from "when [he] was young," to the present, in his honey and in his milk. It was soothing and poignant and light-hearted all at once. The band members had high spirits and must have had legs of steel as their music swayed the crowd and mingled with the breeze from the open doorways.
Back outside, in the fading daylight, The National's song continued to run through my head. I expect that it will for some time, perhaps even until I see them again in June. But that's how all good weekends should end, with their events replaying in your mind as you wind down on Sunday night, lulling you into a contented sleep. The past week is long gone, the week ahead will come in due time. The weekend has given you its all. For now, everything is perfect.
26 April 2013
My Deer Friends
Last weekend I had the pleasure of taking part in my uncle's long-planned and much-anticipated venison feast. Having scored two large deer late in the Fall, he had a bounty to share. So he invited us all, friends and family, to share his good fortune and his passion (both for hunting and for cooking), and to taste a bit of the good life.
The menu was outrageous, with venison shepherd's pie, venison sausage and peppers, a venison roast, venison chili, venison jerky, even venison egg rolls! But the crowning achievement of the night was the venison tenderloin that was saved until last. As we all stood around the fire pit, Pat grilled up thin slices of venison in the style of a beefsteak and then dipped them in a bath of warm butter and garlic. It is exactly as delicious and decadent as it sounds. Bathed in the glow of the fire, with the smell of wood smoke and cigars and the sound of laughter hanging in the cool Spring air, I felt profoundly lucky and happy to be alive.
Last night I had the pleasure of going to see a concert, one that showcased 5 different bands whose careers are now beginning their third decades, at the Bell House in Gowanus. The stage was a revolving door of different acts, often sharing and trading members, all of them friends who came together to support each other. Ida, fronted by a husband and wife duo, was mellow and sweet. Haunting harmonies and poignant lyrics. M Shanghai String Band packed the stage with all sorts of instruments - standing bass, banjo, two violins, harmonica, saw and spoons! - and with energy, sheer electricity. Babe the Blue Ox, whose release party this whole thing was, rocked the house with two drummers, a guitar and larger than life female bassist. The night passed from slowcore, to Americana, to indie rock, but with no break in the good vibes, no loss of the crowd's enthusiasm for each new group. It was so clear to me that these people truly enjoyed every moment that they were performing, and I couldn't help but feel their joy.
Watching Babe the Blue Ox play through their first new album in 15 years, I was struck by the same sort of profound feeling I had leaving the venison dinner. Perhaps it had something to do with the lead singer's uncanny resemblance to Pat, but more likely it was the trait that they have in common: pursuing the things that they love throughout their lives. And beyond that, they recognize that the best part of having a hobby or a talent is to share it with others, to bring it to full fruition.
The venison dinner would not have been the same without Pat opening his house to friends and family, to showcase his successful hunt and keen abilities in the kitchen. The show was made even better because it was clear that the bands were there to play alongside each other and to invite us all to feel that support and exuberance with them.
It's so true of all things in life: they are made better, more fulfilling, by joining with others to experience them. So eat! Drink! Run, jump, hunt, sing, play, cultivate your talents! And do so with an openness to celebrate each moment with others.
Check out some of last night's acts!
 |
| Artwork by M.P.W. |
The menu was outrageous, with venison shepherd's pie, venison sausage and peppers, a venison roast, venison chili, venison jerky, even venison egg rolls! But the crowning achievement of the night was the venison tenderloin that was saved until last. As we all stood around the fire pit, Pat grilled up thin slices of venison in the style of a beefsteak and then dipped them in a bath of warm butter and garlic. It is exactly as delicious and decadent as it sounds. Bathed in the glow of the fire, with the smell of wood smoke and cigars and the sound of laughter hanging in the cool Spring air, I felt profoundly lucky and happy to be alive.
Last night I had the pleasure of going to see a concert, one that showcased 5 different bands whose careers are now beginning their third decades, at the Bell House in Gowanus. The stage was a revolving door of different acts, often sharing and trading members, all of them friends who came together to support each other. Ida, fronted by a husband and wife duo, was mellow and sweet. Haunting harmonies and poignant lyrics. M Shanghai String Band packed the stage with all sorts of instruments - standing bass, banjo, two violins, harmonica, saw and spoons! - and with energy, sheer electricity. Babe the Blue Ox, whose release party this whole thing was, rocked the house with two drummers, a guitar and larger than life female bassist. The night passed from slowcore, to Americana, to indie rock, but with no break in the good vibes, no loss of the crowd's enthusiasm for each new group. It was so clear to me that these people truly enjoyed every moment that they were performing, and I couldn't help but feel their joy.
Watching Babe the Blue Ox play through their first new album in 15 years, I was struck by the same sort of profound feeling I had leaving the venison dinner. Perhaps it had something to do with the lead singer's uncanny resemblance to Pat, but more likely it was the trait that they have in common: pursuing the things that they love throughout their lives. And beyond that, they recognize that the best part of having a hobby or a talent is to share it with others, to bring it to full fruition.
The venison dinner would not have been the same without Pat opening his house to friends and family, to showcase his successful hunt and keen abilities in the kitchen. The show was made even better because it was clear that the bands were there to play alongside each other and to invite us all to feel that support and exuberance with them.
It's so true of all things in life: they are made better, more fulfilling, by joining with others to experience them. So eat! Drink! Run, jump, hunt, sing, play, cultivate your talents! And do so with an openness to celebrate each moment with others.
 |
| Artwork by K.E.H. |
Check out some of last night's acts!
16 March 2013
...And the Craic Is Good
'Tis the season. The season of parades and pipe bands, of sweaters and shillelaghs, of smiling Irish eyes. It's such a beautiful time to me, when good friends and family meet in good cheer and revelry to celebrate our Irish roots.
There is such a feeling of togetherness at these gatherings. Everyone is jovial and spirited, simply happy to be alive. We rejoice in good health, good times, and good fortune to be Irish Americans!
In addition to the parades, a corned beef and cabbage dinner has always been a staple for our family, along with Irish soda bread. Throughout the month of March, Granny would bake loaves and loaves for each one of our homes. She even would make a special loaf for me, free of caraway seeds. I decided to try out Granny's recipe for the first time today as a test-drive for our family's feast tomorrow afternoon.
This is one recipe that I never actually watched Granny make, so I was not sure what to expect out of the dough. I sure do wish I had her around to ask her advice! Since I only have one loaf pan and was running low on all-purpose flour, I cut the recipe in half and used 1/2 cup whole wheat flour. I, of course, left out the caraway seeds. Made with buttermilk and shortening, it is a very thick dough, much like a scone or biscuit. It took a bit of muscle to come together and had to be spread out into the pan.
My finished product was pretty good, but definitely could be improved. Next time I will make the entire 2 loaf recipe and use all-purpose flour alone. Hopefully I can turn out a decent couple of loaves for dinner tomorrow.
Granny's Irish Bread
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup shortening
2 eggs
2 cups buttermilk
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
5 cups flour
raisins
caraway seeds
_____________________
Mix together - ( 2 loaves)
Grease pans
Bake at 350º - 1 hour
Make a loaf, don some green, get your Irish eyes to smile and have a great weekend!
Happy St. Patrick's Day! Sláinte!
West Orange Parade Through the Years
In addition to the parades, a corned beef and cabbage dinner has always been a staple for our family, along with Irish soda bread. Throughout the month of March, Granny would bake loaves and loaves for each one of our homes. She even would make a special loaf for me, free of caraway seeds. I decided to try out Granny's recipe for the first time today as a test-drive for our family's feast tomorrow afternoon.
My finished product was pretty good, but definitely could be improved. Next time I will make the entire 2 loaf recipe and use all-purpose flour alone. Hopefully I can turn out a decent couple of loaves for dinner tomorrow.
Granny's Irish Bread
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup shortening
2 eggs
2 cups buttermilk
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
5 cups flour
raisins
caraway seeds
_____________________
Mix together - ( 2 loaves)
Grease pans
Bake at 350º - 1 hour
Make a loaf, don some green, get your Irish eyes to smile and have a great weekend!
Happy St. Patrick's Day! Sláinte!
03 February 2013
Just Passing Through
This weekend is basically just an extended layover in New York for me. Last week I traveled to Miami for work and early tomorrow morning I will be flying out to Irvine, CA. Luckily both of these trips provide escapes from the bitterly cold weather we've been experiencing in town lately. Unfortunately they have made my life very hectic. There has been a lot of eating out, eating late, eating poorly due to limited options. I am very much looking forward to getting back to the East Coast next Saturday and settling back into a normal rhythm and routine.
I feel especially reinvigorated in my love of cooking by a lecture I attended Friday night. My dad and I went to see Jacques Pépin at William Paterson University's distinguished lecturer series. What a fantastic couple of hours! Accompanied by his daughter Claudine, the world-renowned chef demonstrated his immense skill in the basics of cooking techniques and tricks. He also whipped up salmon tartare and "instant" gravlax. Within a matter of 15 minutes he had a simple, elegant spread that would be admired at any dinner party or buffet. Very fitting for the self-proclaimed "short cut cook."
The seventy-seven-year-old didn't miss a beat. He was cheerful and funny, a true delight to watch and to listen to. His experiences in the realm of cooking and of eating inspire the joy and care with which food should be treated. One of his last answers to a question asked of him by an audience member was summed up in this way: "It is more than food. It is comfort. It is life." How beautifully true.
While I may not have hours every day to spend in the kitchen as Mr. Pépin does, I want to try harder to make that time to create real, nutritious, and worthwhile meals. Now and throughout my life. So as I jet off for another week of running around, I already look forward to my return, to some quiet time, and to more experiences in the kitchen.
For today, to get through the chilly, snow-dusted Super Bowl Sunday in Brooklyn, I made a batch of cookies to take to our friend's party. These "Mexican hot chocolate" cookies are rich little treats full of warming flavors: cinnamon, chocolate, almond, espresso and cayenne. They may not be a piping hot mug of steamed milk and cocoa, but they are the next best thing. Stay warm, New York. I'll be back soon.
13 January 2013
Good Bread, This
Work has been busy lately. Oh, very busy. The later part of 2012 was quite hectic in the office, and the early days of the new year are off and running on the same track. Long days and never-ending to-do lists have been taking their toll on me. At the end of a day, there's not much more I've wanted to do than head straight home to my spot on the couch. Curled up in my blanket, fending off the cold and dark outside, hoping to prolong the hours between work days, I started watching the HBO series "Rome." I started and I did not stop. In the span of about 2 weeks (not counting the holidays at the family homestead) I watched all 22 episodes and relished every minute! It was what I call true entertainment: beautiful costumes and scenery, tremendous acting, relatable characters, rich storylines, British wit peppered with Roman jargon, and a plot that doesn't stray far from the true course of events. Historical fiction. Can't beat it with a stick.
The interest I had in the ancient world as a young student of history - fueled by reading books, watching documentaries, and translating Julius Caesar's Commentarii de Bello Gallico and Vergil's Aeneid in Latin class - was reignited. I promptly bought a new book on the subject of the Roman Empire and am plowing my way through it now, remembering things I once knew, learning new things I did not. But seeing this beautiful tableau of Rome sparked another curiosity in me, beyond the historical personalities and events written in the annals of history. The vivid portrayal of this people made me begin to wonder how the Romans lived and, among other things, how and what they ate.
A quick search led me to a number of books on Roman gastronomical history, which I am sure I will dive into soon, and to a handful of recipes, which I wanted to employ immediately. From the little I've read so far, everyday Roman cooking was simple and used basic ingredients available to the inhabitants of Rome - bread, cheese, honey, and wine seem to have been staples. These cookies capture that simplicity perfectly. Made with only 8 ingredients and sweetened with honey instead of sugar, the little treats are not too sweet, not too heavy...just right.
The interest I had in the ancient world as a young student of history - fueled by reading books, watching documentaries, and translating Julius Caesar's Commentarii de Bello Gallico and Vergil's Aeneid in Latin class - was reignited. I promptly bought a new book on the subject of the Roman Empire and am plowing my way through it now, remembering things I once knew, learning new things I did not. But seeing this beautiful tableau of Rome sparked another curiosity in me, beyond the historical personalities and events written in the annals of history. The vivid portrayal of this people made me begin to wonder how the Romans lived and, among other things, how and what they ate.
A quick search led me to a number of books on Roman gastronomical history, which I am sure I will dive into soon, and to a handful of recipes, which I wanted to employ immediately. From the little I've read so far, everyday Roman cooking was simple and used basic ingredients available to the inhabitants of Rome - bread, cheese, honey, and wine seem to have been staples. These cookies capture that simplicity perfectly. Made with only 8 ingredients and sweetened with honey instead of sugar, the little treats are not too sweet, not too heavy...just right.
Ancient Roman Honey Cookies with Sesame Seeds
courtesy of Eating Places
- 2 1/2 cups flour
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/8 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened at room temperature
- 1/2 cup honey
- 2 eggs
- 1/2 cup sesame seeds
In a small bowl, combine the dry ingredients and set aside.
In a larger bowl, beat the butter, honey, and eggs with an electric mixer until well blended, or about two minutes. Gradually add the flour mixture, a third at a time, and beat until the dough comes together. Cover and chill for about an hour or until firm.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease two baking sheets. Form chilled dough into 1-inch balls and place balls on prepared baking sheets. Pat the top of each ball down to flatten slightly.
Bake 10 minutes or until golden brown.
Remove cookies from baking sheets and roll in sesame seeds while still warm. Cool on a wire rack.
I had a bit of trouble getting the sesame seeds to stick after coming out of the oven, so I brushed just a bit of water on the top of each before rolling in the seeds and that worked like a charm without affecting the cookie or its flavor.
I imagine these biscuits would pair very well with a cup of tea or coffee. Or with hot spiced wine, a la Romani.
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