Happy 2020! I certainly hope this year my eyesight improves! Haha okay yikes, that’s not even a very good joke. ANYWAY. I fully realize I wrote about my mom’s New Year’s Cookies last year. But I’m going to do it again, because this time I was there for more of the process.
When I arrived at her place yesterday, this is the sight that greeted me:
It smelled so good. Rising dough like that is one of my favourite aromas.
Mom then dumped it out onto a floured surface and began to press it out into a circle.
She had debated whether to include raisins this year, since neither of my brothers like raisins in their New Year’s Cookies… but I told her I think they should be in there anyway. The raisins lend a certain flavour and texture that I’d miss.
My mom is not very tall and was having some trouble reaching the other side of the dough. I did put down my phone to help her at this point.
As we were rolling out the dough, she was also heating the oil. Here is a “schnippasch” to use as a tester to see if the oil is hot enough:
Then it was time to cut! She would first make dents in the dough with her fingers, where the knife would cut. She told me this was so that the raisins would not end up being cut by the knife. This way all the raisins would be whole. So, I began doing this from my side, too.
Mom pointed out there are no pictures of me helping, so I tried to take a picture of the moment. This is the best I could do. I couldn’t linger, the oil was hot and the New Year’s Cookies were frying up quickly and I had to stay ahead of the demand.
Here is the completed sea of yet-to-be-fried New Year’s Cookies.
The scene:
In the sieve: hot out of the oil New Year’s Cookies made by my mom. One of the best things I’ve eaten all year.
The completed tray of delights!
And then, icing. I had WAY more than one of these, and zero regrets, because they’re so delicious and made with love by my mom.
I love how each one is shaped differently. When other New Year’s Cookies are identical, it kind of freaks me out. Seems unnatural.
My mom does not want to share the recipe. Though she said she might be tempted for $150, which I find to be a cunning number to settle on — it’s possible someone might actually pay it. Ha. But I think she feels the recipe is not hers to give: it was my paternal grandmother’s recipe. Mom says it’s essentially a recipe for a sweet raisin bread. It’s not like any other New Year’s Cookie I’ve ever had, and I guess that’s why.