While spinning round and round on a tire swing with an old childhood pal one summer in his grandmother's backyard, I inadvertently ruined Christmas in July. My friend Jake collected Star Wars action figures by the dozen and had carrying cases that looked like the torsos of the film's biggest stars: C-3PO, Darth Vader and R2-D2 all opened up to reveal rows and rows of carefully positioned plastic miniatures of Chewbacca, Han Solo and any other character you could possibly think of from the original three films. He had duplicates and triplicates of many of them - too many Stormtroopers to count, really. And I think I remember Princess Lea appearing in each case at least once sporting a new look and costume, including one in a bikini from Return of the Jedi that Jake was especially fond of.
He was a nice kid, that Jake, and from my vantage point an extremely lucky guy. His parents were still together and seemed to get along, despite the potty mouth Jake's mom spewed regularly toward his dad, but that didn't phase me any, as my own mom had many worse things to share with her husband - spouse number three by that time. Jake lived in a huge house with a pool and a big wrap-around deck and a game room and a ping-pong table and a mini basketball court and, well, as much as I enjoyed hanging out with him, which I did mainly at his grandmother's because my own great-grandparents lived next door, I always felt very self-conscious and out of my element, like I was visiting Richie Rich or something.
Being poor while growing up around gobs of wealthier kids made me hyperaware of what I didn't have, naturally. And while being friends with Jake continually poked at my ghetto buttons, he and I got along because he seemed innocently unaware of his fortunes and, like me, was physically awkward to the point where we both were tormented extensively by peers in our respective schools for being spindly and weird looking. While my own gangly outward appearance was primarily due to genetics and government food donations, Jake's thick glasses, heavily wired jaw and spooky glow were granted to him the day he thrust his tongue into an electrical socket and was nearly fried to death when he was five years old. The incident caused him all sorts of bizarre chronic health issues that made his comparatively luxurious way of life much easier for me to swallow.
Still, there were many times where Jake just irked and poked at me with his constant banter that mostly related to shit he wanted, shit he just bought, and shit that - in the middle of fucking summer and in this squeaky, nebbish voice, "Santa is going to bring to me on Christmas." When poor kids feel cornered and insecure at the hands of people they deem to be more affluent than them, they're going to do one of two things: they're going to steal from you or they're going to physically hurt you. And on that particular day as we bobbed back and forth on a tire swing while Jake invoked Santa in mid-summer to bring him fifty more Stormtroopers so he could complete his army, there was a part of me that wanted to pluck an armful of his Star Wars action figures from their shiny collector's cases, run up the street to the railroad crossing, set them all out on the tracks and lay in wait for a train to flatten them. But instead, without much consideration or hesitation, my mouth flew open and, in a similarly nebbish voice, I squeaked, "You know there isn't really a Santa Claus, right? You know he's your parents, right? You know they're the ones who go out and buy the Star Wars stuff that gets put under the tree while you're sleeping, right?"
Within the time it took for the tire swing to rotate towards the trunk and back out again, Jake's eyes welled up, he dropped his jaw as widely as his wiring allowed, leapt from the swing and began shuffling toward the backdoor the best an electrical socket-sucking kid with partially cooked innards could. And in a disconcerted tone that was more harrowing than a doomed Taijii dolphin's, Jake screamed.
I immediately fled the scene, scampering across his grandmother's immaculately trimmed lawn before taking a frowned-upon shortcut through her rose bed and hopping a chain link fence to freedom, but not before hearing her door swing forcefully open and Jake wailing, "Grandma Harriet, is there a Santa? Are you Santa? Is Mama Santa? Who [sob] is buying [snort] the gifts [hysterics]?"
Harriet was not a woman you wanted to fuck with. She was a squat, mustached German immigrant who was built like a bowling ball and hated everyone who wasn't white and Catholic and didn't see eye-to-eye with her on every issue. "Nathan!" she roared vociferously. "[cough, hack, cough] You just wait [huff, wheeze] and see [cough, cough, cough] if Santa [wheeze, pained hack] brings you [cough, cough, cough, cough] ANYTHING!" She also had advanced emphysema from years of chain smoking - there wasn't a chance she'd ever catch up to me as I trotted down the sidewalk and up the driveway to my great-grandparent's house. "And [hack, hack, hack] stay away [cough] from my [wheeze, hack, cough] roses!"
Jake and I were both twelve - it was time he knew. I mean, how he went that far into life without knowing who's wrapping up the entire Star Wars cast and extras and stuffing them under the tree each Christmas kind of defies any explanation; he wasn't even home schooled. My great-grandparents quietly agreed with my defense and there wasn't any real punishment following the dreaded phone call from Harriet shortly after I walked in the door that resulted in a forced in-person apology to a particularly traumatized and oxygen-starved Jake and Harriet.
Still, I worried the whole rest of the year about what, if ANYTHING, I'd get for Christmas, and it was that year that I began setting aside a few Christmas cookies to bait Santa with - or whoever was responsible for forking out my much dreamed-about loot.
Following are a trio of treats to bribe the Santa in your life with this Christmas. HO! [hack] HO! [wheeze] HO! [cough]
Red Velvet Brownies
These brownies are a brand new recipe for me - I've been experimenting with them for the past few weeks and, while I like them in their current form, I want to try making them with a dark chocolate glaze, or maybe a chocolate cream cheese frosting. In their current holiday sprinkled state, they're kind of sporting an ugly Christmas sweater, but they are easy to make, frost and (if you so choose) decorate with kids. Feel free to play around with them and let me know what you get.
Ingredients:
For the brownies:
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup dark cocoa powder
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 + 4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
3/4 cup (1-1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
1-1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon white vinegar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 ounce bottle of liquid red food coloring (not paste, powder or gel)
3 eggs, well beaten
For the frosting:
4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup 10X confectioners sugar
Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 325°F and center a rack. Butter and line the bottom of an 8x8 square baking pan with parchment paper. Melt 4 ounces of the chocolate and the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat.
2. While the chocolate and butter are melting, sift the flour, cocoa, salt and baking powder into a medium bowl and set aside.
3. Remove the melted chocolate mixture from the heat and stir in the sugar with a rubber spatula. Add the vanilla, vinegar and red food coloring. Mix until well combined and then add the eggs a little at a time, mixing until fully incorporated before adding the next.
4. Fold in the dry ingredients just until combined. Stir in the remaining 4 ounces of chopped chocolate (or chips) and pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 40 - 45 minutes or until the center is somewhat firm to the touch and a knife inserted in the center comes out with moist crumbs (brownies should be very moist, but not too underdone). Allow to cool to room temperature in the pan on a rack.
5. When the brownies are completely cooled, make the frosting. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and cream cheese together on medium speed until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add in the lemon juice and vanilla and mix to combine for another minute on medium speed. Turn the mixer to low and gradually add in the powdered sugar until everything is well incorporated and a spreadable icing forms, about another 2 minutes.
6. Spread the frosting in an even layer over the brownies and then place the frosted brownies in the refrigerator for 10 to 15 minutes to firm up the frosting before cutting them. Add festive sprinkles if you're making these with kids or for a holiday party. Cut into bars and serve. Any remaining brownies can be stored in a covered airtight container and refrigerated, but the brownies are best enjoyed if they are allowed to return to room temperature before eating them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reindeer Bites
These treats were everywhere around the holidays when I was growing up, but they have mostly disappeared it seems, at least from my corner of the world. Some people call them haystack or Chinese noodle cookies, but in my family they've always been called Reindeer Bites. They are super fast and easy to make with kids and they keep for over a month sealed at room temperature. You can add butterscotch chips, peanut butter chips, use milk or dark chocolate, add a sprinkling of sea salt before they are set ... the sky's the limit with these classic no-bake drop cookies.
Ingredients:
10 ounces milk, semi or bittersweet chocolate, chopped (or use chips)
2 tablespoons butter
2 cups Chinese (chow mein) noodles
1 cup salted dry roasted peanuts (I use Planters)
Directions:
1. Melt the chocolate and butter in a medium saucepan over low heat.
2. While the chocolate and butter are melting, place the Chinese noodles and peanuts in a large mixing bowl and toss.
3. Take the melted chocolate mixture and pour over the noodles and peanuts. Mix thoroughly to fully coat everything in chocolate.
4. Using two teaspoons, scoop out bite-sized portions onto wax paper, carefully guiding each piece into a clump of noodles instead of letting it fall flat. Allow the chocolate to set at room temperature. These can be kept in an airtight container at room temperature for more than a month.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Judy's Eggnog
Judy Pillsbury introduced me to her eggnog years ago in Paris, and I haven't been quite the same since. She starts drinking wine by 11AM each morning, so I was expecting her eggnog to be effectively sauced, but nothing will prepare you for this. It's potent, to be sure, so adjust the cognac to your liking. Also, you might want to check out Melissa Clark's excellent New York Times article on eggnog.
12 eggs, separated
1-1/2 cups + 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon + a pinch salt
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 - 6 cups cognac (you can start with 4 cups)
4 cups whole milk
4 cups heavy cream
freshly ground cinnamon and grated nutmeg for dusting
1. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the yolks, 1-1/2 cups sugar, salt and vanilla and beat on medium-high speed until thick and all of the sugar has been incorporated into the yolks, about 3 or 4 minutes. Turn the mixer to low and slowly add the cognac and whole milk.
2. In a medium bowl, whip the cream to soft peaks and set aside. In a clean bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the egg white whites with a pinch of salt until foamy, then gradually add 2 tablespoons of sugar until the egg whites are soft peaks.
3. Pour the yolk mixture into a large punch bowl and fold in the whipped cream, followed by the egg whites. Dust the top generously with cinnamon and nutmeg. Serve immediately.
