The Art of Italian Cookie Baking

You cannot call yourself a baker until you’ve participated in a baking marathon inspired by the Italian cookie. Those amici on Cake Boss may have given you a sampling, but you don’t know what it’s like until you’ve actually lived through the process. And are alive to recount the story.

In case you’ve ever wondered what goes into those little dough bundles of joy… the ones you so ignorantly pop into your mouth without any thought to the work that went into them, I’m here to provide an insider’s view to what this process entails.

Cookies, or um, biscotti are as much a part of Italian culture as is soccer, speaking with your hands, having an array of grocery bags stuffed in a random kitchen drawer and asking Saint Anthony to help find missing stuff.

Also, just to add some educational context to this blog, “Biscotti” is a single type of Italian cookie. You need to stop impressing your friends by saying all Italian cookies are biscotti. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get shot. And, you’re welcome.

It all begins once the Matriarch of the family announces she is going to bake this weekend. The announcement is meant for you to understand that you too are going to be baking this weekend. Beware of leading questions such as “What are you doing this weekend?” which creates the pretence of care to your pending plans.

I can assure you it does not. Suck it up.

And if you’re lucky, it might only be a single weekend. But since the advent of Ziplock, Tupperware and ice cream/ butter/ insert inappropriate recycled container here, cookie baking can span several weekends.

The sooner you concede, the better it will be.

And when I say weekend, the baking lasts an entire weekend. I used to wonder what it’s like, spending a lazy afternoon creating a Gingerbread House with Grandma, like those Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines tv commercials.

I’ll probably never find out because Nonna hates ginger (not an Italian cookie flavour profile) and lazy afternoons are intended for those seasoned veterans who make “a” batch of cookies to enjoy that day.

Italians bake in serious bulk. Every recipe needs to be quadrupled, because, in addition to having an obscene amount of cookies for “viewings” (yes, I mean that in the funeral sense—pay your respects but don’t touch) cookies are distributed to fellow bakers who in turn, pay it forward and send you another obscene amount of cookies.

Did you receive similar cookies to the ones that you baked? Do they taste better? Is so and so making a point; that their cookies are better than your cookies? Well, we’re just going to have to show them, and bake even more of that cookie and ensure everyone knows just how good we can make ours.

What about so and so, who gave me her great Nonna’s recipe, but left out one detail which alters the cookie’s taste, texture and overall appearance?

Well, we’re just going to have to show her and bake her a million more of that same cookie from the REAL recipe we found on Google. That’ll show her!

This cycle proves the fundamental truth–that Italian cookie baking is predicated upon vengeance.

Make no mistake….Italians are as generous as we are petty.

Intentionally screwing up your baking duties will result in an even more frustrating baking task, such as doing some complicated procedure under the watchful eye of the Cookie Warden.

I remember back in 2003 rolling amaretti with the late and great Nonna Lidia. My tongue so parched from eating a pound’s worth of batter. I started to sweat because I could not keep up with her pace. My eyebrows sweating and I couldn’t even wipe my hands because cookie dough covered my hands like an edible form of spackle. I was not allowed to wash my hands, get a drink or pee until our Cookie Warden, the late and great Gina Siino would approve. Not sure if she was disgusted or satisfied, but I remember the look of gratitude when I was awarded with my two minutes to pee.

As children are taught to load rifles at a tender age in North Korea, Italian children are trained to roll dough into perfect little balls with that same level of precision.

If you haven’t burned yourself, did you even bake?

I couldn’t tell you where we keep the spare batteries or first aid kit in my house, but rest assured, during any power outage or time of crisis, I’ll always be able to find cookies in the freezer.