How To: Ship Decorated Cookies, Safely

You see, friends, I am trying to alternate between recipes, Early Modern trivia, and domestics. We shall see how it goes.

So, today: shipping cookies safely. I poked around a bit, in December, when I decided to send cookies as holiday gifts to some friends who are far afield, but I wasn’t totally satisfied with any of the sites I found. Most seemed either Too Fussy (bubble-wrapping each, packing peanuts, the Whole Nine Yards) or clearly didn’t have decorated cookies in mind at all. I liked the idea, though, because it’s a reasonably budget friendly, easily organized present for several people that still has room to be tailored for each person or each couple.

And why am I posting this now, you ask? After all, we’re months away from the next Holiday Sweets Attack.

Incorrect. February 14th approacheth, and everyone knows that it’s not just for couple-y types. I can’t say I’ll be repeating this baking and shipping plan for this particular Valentine’s, but I’ll be keeping it in mind when I myself become the Friend Who Is Far Afield.

So, steps 1 through 6: Prepare, refrigerate, cut, bake, cool, and decorate the cookies.

I’m afraid I can’t say too much about steps 1, 2, or 4, because the recipes I used are not my own. My sugar cookie recipe is near to Mark Bitman’s “Refrigerator (Rolled) Cookies” in How to Cook Everything, just with a smidgen less sugar and more vanilla. Ah, and cream instead of milk. I also usually use part Irish butter instead of normal unsalted for, oh, about a a quarter of the total butter in anything I want to be Extra Nice, like holiday presents. Cut back on the salt, a bit, accordingly.

My gingerbread recipe, then, is modified from the “Soft Glazed Gingerbread” in Tartine. The biggest modification is that I don’t glaze the cookies or use a patterned pin or plaque – I’m just using the dough to make rolled cookies. I also, though, cut back on the cocoa powder a bit and use maple syrup instead of corn syrup – a good substitution for gingerbread generally, I think.  Tartine also asks you to refrigerate overnight; I usually refrigerate my cookie dough for about four hours before rolling.

This is my only advice on Step 3: My grandmother told my mother, who told me, that you should always push as many cutters down into the dough as you possibly can before moving any of them; that way you use as much as you can each time and aren’t overworking the dough by constantly re-rolling.

As for step 5, well – I’m not likely to be a Sunday Sweet in my lifetime. But, if you’re not used to decorating at all, I perhaps have one or two useful ideas. First: assemble your decorating tools. Better decorators than I have those Fancy Icing and Piping Tools. I have Store Bought Cookie Icing.

Someday, I will test enough homemade icings to discover one that comfortably ships and makes nice neat lines. I will buy a fancy decorating tool, and my cookies will be as Completely Natural as cookies can be and Magnificent.
Until then, these cookie icings set up nicely and aren’t distracting in taste.

I suggest getting a palette of three to four colors, with coordinating sprinkles and fancies. I especially like the little sugar pearls – they add nice dimension, and for Christmas cookies they make great ornaments or gingerbread-man eyes.

I decorate in batches of shapes, so that I get used to the corners and turns and lines and such. If you’ve got them all laid out in front of you in rows or somesuch, remember to work away from your starting point – I’m a righty, so that’s moving down and to the right for me.

Here are some of the stars, out of the stars, gingerbread people, stockings, and trees that I did up this year. I actually prefer cookies without icing (actually, come down to it, I actually prefer bacon and cheese), but they are Not Festive. These cookies are Festive.

Ok, now to the more important steps: how to actually go about wrapping these up, getting them in the mail, and getting them safely to their destinations.

To accomplish this, you need:

• parchment or wax paper,
• tissue paper,
• festive fabric cut into patches about 7 x 11 (or thereabouts),
• aluminum foil,
• baggies – I used the little portioning bags that go inside bigger freezer bags. Sandwich bags would also work fine,
• and boxes. The boxes need to be bigger than you think, but not terribly big. I used USPS small flat rate boxes (dimensions 8 11/16″ x 5 7/16″ x 1 3/4″, according to the post office, and aren’t those just ridiculous dimensions?) to send out half-dozens.

First, prep your wrapping for each package. Your aluminum foil should be in great sheets a little over twice the size of your boxes, then doubled over – or two sheets that are each a little over the size of the box. The tissue paper can be folded into quarters or halves, depending on the size of the sheets.  It should be small enough to have an edge of foil all around.  You want a double layer of aluminum foil, the tissue paper, and then the festive fabric, laid out on top of each other.

See, like this! There along the upper edge you can see curls of the parchment and wax paper I used to wrap the cookies.

Next, get your wax paper or parchment paper. I actually used a bit of both. Cut it off into strips that are wide enough to wrap up your cookies at least once around. Mine didn’t fold over beyond that, because they were going to have plenty of other layers.

Wrap each cookie, individually, in a strip of the wax paper. Stack them together in twos, threes, or fours, depending on the size of the shipment altogether, and then wrap those stacks in the baggie – close, but not tight.

To the left is a stack of three cookies wrapped in the wax paper. To the right is the other stack of three for this packaged, which have been wrapped up in the baggie already.
Basically, you’re trying, first, to make sure that the icing of each cookie doesn’t rub up against the others and, second, to get the cookies in fairly stable stacks so that they lend each other stability.

From here, you just need to get each of those three layers of further wrapping tucked up around the cookies, like so:

One: fold the Festive Fabric over.

Two: fold the tissue paper over, and do your best to seal it with a bit of a crease. It won’t hold very well; it doesn’t need to.

Three: fold the aluminum foil over and seal with folds on all three open sides. Yes, mine is already sitting in the box, but I promise you can easily move this little Package of Cookie into a box from wherever you are working.

Tada! Your cookies are ready to go in their shipping boxes, and each is carefully protected from this dire mailing process by five layers. The last, but still important thing, is to check that you’ve gotten your dimensions right for the package and the box. If there’s much space, make sure to fill it with something or your cookies will be rattled to bits. If there’s no space at all and it seems like a bit of a squeeze, Stop Immediately, or you will crush your cookies before they ever get beyond the garden gate.

Like so, you see? So is good.

I went with the USPS FlatRate because they ran about five or six dollars to ship, and they were supposed to get there within two days – good time, for a cookie (mind, they didn’t, in every case, but they were meant to). You can also set the options so that the mail-people are supposed to leave the packages there, because everyone hates running around after packages (mind, they didn’t, in every case, but they were meant to).

So far as I know, no cookies were broken, and I was able to send a real present to several far away friends without spending fifty dollars on a fruit basket.

Erasmus is Not Very Good at Predicting his Near Future, for such a Smart Guy

So, last time I decided to offer up to the Internet a bit of my diligent study, I went with one of the most absurd “tragic” stories in existence.

Today, then, is very different. Because today is some real tragedy, in the form of Desiderius Erasmus’s letters, where we learn that for a Very Smart Guy, Erasmus really had no handle on what England was about to be dealing with when it came to Henry VIII: Terrifying Egomaniac.

Before I dive into the first of two letters I eventually want to look at, I first want to note one absolutely crazy thing: “Erasmists have traced 2500 letters from the Dutch Humanist to friends and correspondents all over Europe” (Clements and Levant, 1976). 2500. That we have been able to trace some 500 years, give or take, later.

Guys, it’s January, and I still haven’t written my thank you cards from Christmas. It’s 2014, we have an exceptional mail system, and I couldn’t even manage to get my best friend’s birthday card in the mail on time. (I didn’t have a stamp, ok? Jeez.)

So, Erasmus was Amazingly Prolific in his letter writing, especially if we take just a second to remember that he was also, ya know, creating Latin and Greek editions of the New Testament, writing several of the most important Humanist treatises, and traveling, attending universities, and lecturing like it was his job. (Interestingly, only possible because he was granted an official papal dispensation from his actual job: priest.)

Pictured: A Priest, but also Not a Priest. Discuss.
(Unabashed credit to Wikipedia, because if I know it’s the right image, why should I go gallivanting around the Internet to find some other source?)

But now to these specific letters, because you may not know it, but you need more Early Modern Letters in your life.

First, Erasmus’s February 26, 1517 letter to Wolfgang Fabritius Capito (often more simply known as Wolfgang Capito, a priest who would eventually join and champion the Reformation, making his relationship with Erasmus…complicated).

Erasmus is writing this letter to express to Wolfgang how wonderful everything is under the new Pope and the new Kings, saying that

I could almost wish to be young again, for no other reason but this, that I anticipate the near approach of a golden age, so clearly do we see the minds of princes, as if changed by inspiration, devoting all their energies to the pursuit of peace.

Erasmus goes on to name Francis I and Pope Leo as the main movers and shakers, which – well, the political and military messes the Pope got into were Not His Fault, mostly. But Francis…was not Devoting All of his Energies to the Pursuit of Peace, is sufficient.

Still, that’s got nothing on what he’s about to say about Henry VIII:

When I see that the highest sovereigns of Europe – Francis of France, Charles the King Catholic, Henry of England, and the Emperor Maximilian – have set all their warlike preparations aside and established peace upon solid…foundations, I am led to a confident hope that not only morality and Christian piety, but also a genuine and purer literature, may come to renewed life…

In the theological sphere there was no little to be done…the unlearned vulgar being induced to believe that violence is offered to religion if anyone begins an assault upon their barbarism…But even here I am confident of success…

So, the First Part Last – man, good luck with that. Setting aside the classism of “unlearned” and “vulgar” being joined, we’ll all agree to alert one another if barbaric people ever stop believing that an assault on ignorance is also an assault on religion.

But. There’s a more directly, immediately failed prediction here: By 1519, Maximilian is dead. Charles is the new Emperor, which, since Francis was in the running, means they aren’t so much Devoted to Peace as they are Already on the Warpath. The actual war starts in 1521.

And Henry. Oh man, Henry is just…really not going to live up to Erasmus’s expectations. Of peace, or piety, or fidelity, or, really, finally, even of just Being a Good Person.

(Henry, by the by, accomplished hundreds of things that allowed the English Empire to eventually be created. That may be a good or bad thing, or too nuanced to be either. But it got us where we are (again, good or bad), so we oughtn’t let his personal life overshadow that. Still, doesn’t mean he wasn’t a Pretty Terrible and Breathtakingly Selfish Person by the end.)

This is apparently what Erasmus thought was happening. It is not, in fact, what was happening.
I also just get sick of seeing the same fatty fat Henry. He couldn’t walk properly, of course he got bigger – but he was apparently quite the fox in his younger days. He also had an ongoing, transcontinental argument with Francis about who had the better calves.
I don’t know anything about Charles’s calves. Or Pope Leo’s. I am assuming the dragon is an allegorical figure for either war or for heresy, as I have not heard any accounts of Henry and Charles killing dragons in St. Peter’s. Unfortunately.
(Wikipedia credit, again.)

One last note from this letter, just because it’s important to sometimes see how much a particular culture can limit even the Most Exceptional human beings:

One doubt still possesses my mind. I am afraid that, under cover of a revival of ancient literature, paganism may attempt to rear its head…or, on the other hand, that the restoration of Hebrew learning may give occasion to a revival of Judaism. That would be a plague as much opposed to the doctrine of Christ as anything that could happen.

Oh, Eramus. Here’s the thing, guys: as awful as that is, he’s crippled by his culture. Erasmus was Incredibly Learned, Very Intelligent, and, at the end of the day, a Very Good Person – he was kind to  and engaged with others, he maintained Cordial Conversation even with those with whom he disagreed, and he more than earned the title Prince of the Humanists.

But man – he has really, seriously Misidentified the Problem.

***

More soon on the even sadder letter Eramus writes describing Thomas More. Spoiler: Early Modern Men had some really Appalling Ideas about Marriage.

***

All citations and quotations from the edited collection Renaissance Letters: Revelations of a World Reborn. Eds. Robert J. Clements and Lorna Levant. New York: New York UP, 1976.

Pumpkin Soup

One or two people hesitantly asked about this whole project, in the sort of voice that said they were sure I’d already given it up, but that it seemed polite to check.

Actually, I hadn’t given it up at all. I just had Several Things Happen, including one heartbreaking, awful thing and one wonderful, miraculous thing (who is already helping glue some of those damaged bits back together with her mama’s help). But neither of those is the sort of thing I come here today to talk about.

I come today to talk about soup, cellar vegetables, and living off of farmers’ markets during the months they don’t exist.

Thanks to freezing and planning, I’m in good shape to make it through the winter without any supermarket veggies unless I just want something particular. However, in my stocking up, I got, perhaps, a little overenthusiastic on the squash. And acorn squash is well and good – the things last forever, and I can think of half a dozen different ways to cook them on any given night. But the pumpkin that was sitting on my shelf…well, I don’t usually use pumpkins for much besides pie.

But then, I made this soup. And squash/ gourd/ Cucurbita overstock or not, I wish I had more pumpkin, now. So, if you’ve got a lonely leftover still haunting your kitchen from holiday baking, might I suggest the following, decidedly-not-pie recipe?

Ingredients

• 1 pumpkin, about 5-6 inches in diameter all ways
• 1 T butter
• 1 onion, any sort (I used red, because it’s what I had on hand, but I think yellow or white would work nicely, too.)
• Garlic, to your taste (I used about 6 cloves, because I love the stuff)
• 1/2 -1 tsp. dried sage (rubbed would be my preference)
• 1/2 -1 tsp. dried rosemary
• 1/2 – 1 tsp dried thyme (leaves, not ground)
• 1/2 -1 tsp pepper
• 1 1/2/ tsp salt
• 1 T lemon juice (adjust according to your taste, 1 T is nice and tangy)
• 1 c. milk

Those ingredients yielded me enough for two dinners, so adjust accordingly. It would be incredibly easy to double and makes rather nice leftovers, even for someone with a bit of an attitude about leftovers that can’t be seriously altered or re-purposed.

The herb imprecision is because I wanted mine very savory – full of all kinds of flavors. A better-adjusted recipe might tend more towards the 1/2 tsp measures, but sometimes I don’t want well-balanced – I just want flavors. I’d also suggest marjoram with relatively few reservations; I just happened to be out at that moment.

What to Do

A note: you’ll almost certainly want either a food mill (my preference), a food processor, or at least a blender for this recipe. How long the recipe takes depends on the length of time your pumpkin needs to bake; this recipe took me only about half an hour from start to finish, but the pumpkin was being very cooperative.

1. Turn the oven to 375 F.
2. Cut your pumpkin(s) in half and scrape out the seeds.
3. Fill a baking dish large enough to hold both pumpkin halves, face down, with about 1/2 -3/4 in. lukewarm water. Put the pumpkin face down in the dish; put the dish in the oven. The pumpkins will bake for anywhere from 20-40 minutes, depending on how thick the flesh is. There’s an outside chance they could take up to an hour, but mine were quite done in just over 20 minutes.
4. While the pumpkin is cooking, get the other ingredients together. First, chop the onion.
5. Heat the butter over medium heat in a medium saucepan. Once the butter melts, toss in the onion.
6. Peel your garlic cloves – I didn’t chop mine at all, but to each his or her own. Into the saucepan with them!
7. Measure and pitch in the herbs, pepper, and salt as the onions and garlic cook. You want to let the onions cook in the butter until they’re nice and soft, but not browned. This should take about five to ten minutes from when they first go into the butter.
8. Once the onion is soft, pour in the lemon juice, stir, and then pour in the milk. Turn the heat down a notch or two to medium-low or just above, and let the whole thing cook for about ten minutes.
9. At this point, your next step depends on whether your pumpkin is done – which you should be able to tell by poking it with a fork, not unlike checking a potato. Poke down near the cut side, as the top may cook a bit quicker.
10. If your pumpkin is not done, return the pan to the oven and continue to check every five to ten minutes, depending on how close you think you are. Turn the heat under the saucepan to very low. Continue to step 11 when appropriate.
11. If your pumpkin is done, pull it out of the oven. Careful with the pan full of water! Use tongs or a large fork to transfer the pumpkin halves to a work area, like a cutting board.
12. Use a spoon to scoop out the cooked pumpkin – it should come away from the outer shell pretty easily. You can drop the scooped flesh straight into the saucepan of other ingredients.
13. Cook everything, all together, over medium-low heat for five to ten minutes.
    

    It’s a bit late in the post for the first picture, don’t you think? I do. But I didn’t think you really needed or wanted a picture of a sliced onion…

14. How to handle this step depends on what medium you’re using to mush everything into one consistency (appetizing description, non?) and how much you hate dishes. If you’re using a blender or food processor, you should be able to just pour the whole thing in – if you’ve doubled the recipe, you may need to work in batches – and process everything on a medium speed. If you’re using the food mill…well, you could pour from the pan and then mill over a bowl. Or pour into a bowl, and then into the mill, and then use the mill over the pan. But if you’re like me, you’ll realize that you already have to wash that baking dish you pulled the pumpkin from. So – I poured everything into the baking dish, then set the food mill over the dish (I used my finest grate), and then poured from the baking dish into the mill, milling back into the sauce pan.
15. Once your ingredients are all nicely creamed together, I suggest letting the soup heat for just a few more minutes – I lasted about three before I decided it was dinner time.
    

    My food mill is one of my favorite acquisitions – look at that soup! Also, I think that this pumpkin soup is the prettiest shade of creamy yellow I’ve yet produced from a soup of any sort.

16. Enjoy!
    

    “Who would not give all else for two p
    ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?”
    to quote the Mock Turtle, who is of course already reciting, so I suppose Lewis Carroll? Charles Lutwidge Dodgson?

The soup should be tangy and savory and warm. I had it with fresh baked pita one night and wheat toast another. Honestly, the soup wants croutons, but that wasn’t what I wanted. However you serve it though…it’s pumpkin, and not pie, and that’s something all on its own.