Right now, I should be cutting out cookies, lots of cookies. But right now, this helpful hint needs to be shared. Frankly, it’s the kind of tip I would never have thought to share, mostly because I assumed everyone already knew about it, like my shpritz bottle tip. We all know what happens when one assumes something.
If you’re like me, you collect a lot of metal cookie cutters. And, invariably, affixed to the cutter is a sticker coated with enough adhesive on the back to keep it secured for the next 200 years. Great for SKU reading devices, but a nuisance for the person actually putting the cutter to its proper use.
If you just peel the cutter away, you’re left with an impossible to clean residue, and probably some leftover pieces of the sticker that refuse to budge.
Well, I have a simple, chemical-free solution to this little annoyance: your hair dryer. It’s simple, it’s fast and it works.
See the little Eiffel Tower cutter in the photo? That’s today’s culprit.
Turn the hairdryer on to the highest and hottest setting and point toward the sticker. If you’re holding the cutter between your fingers, beware….that metal can get very hot, very quickly. Here the cord of the hairdryer is being used to steady the cutter.
Point the dryer’s hot airstream directly on the label for about a minute or more. Sometimes the label will darken, but not always. Turn off the dryer and test an edge to see if the label lifts easily.
This is perfect. It’s lifting without tugging, and there’s no glue-y residue.
TA-DAH!
Now, just wash your cutter in hot, soapy water, dry thoroughly and start cutting out cookies!
Just like I am going to do now.
Many thanks to Cookie Cutter Company for the adorable Eiffel Tower cutter!
Sometimes (read as ‘once in a blue moon’) I come across a new technique for cookie decorating. Sometimes the technique and I don’t see eye to eye. Other times the technique and I seem to be made for each other.
This is just one of the best of those times.
In my last post I showed you my lipstick on the collar cookie.
Pardon me for patting myself on the back, but this cookie has me so entertained, I can’t stand me. It’s fun, it’s easy and the it tells the story better than a piped on lipstick print could do. Piped royal just can’t get all those wonderful lines that the stamp has on it…just like a real lipstick stain.
After reading this, you’ll be putting lipstick prints on everything!
First, buy yourself a lipstick print stamp.
Now, here’s what you’ll need to get started.
- Food color gel, color of your choice
- Rubber stamp that is either food safe or a brand new one that you will only use with food color.
- Paper towel (You might need a few pieces)
- Flooded cookie
- Parchment paper (not pictured)
First, squeeze a little gel onto the paper towel.
Next, dip the stamp into the gel. Make sure the entire surface of the stamp is covered. Then, just like a freshly slicked mouth, blot.
See how the blot doesn’t look like the lipstick print? Keep calm. It only looks that way because my paper towel is quilted and uneven. I will not confess how many tries it took me to figure that out.
Now you’re ready to test on parchment.
Oooo….looks like a lipstick print to me! Grab the cookie and stamp. Remember that when you press the stamp down on the cookie, press firmly over the entire stamp, not just in the middle. Press left, right, up & down to make sure the whole print gets on the cookie.
Okay? Remove the stamp and be prepared to wow yourself.
OH YES! YES YES YES!! A big, fat juicy lipstick print!
Keep stamping now and you’ll see the different tones and imprints you get…just like what happens in real life when lipstick finds its way onto a collar. In the parking lot of a big box store in broad daylight in the middle of the week….oh wait, that was my last post.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
I need to get something off my chest.
It’s about holidays and cookies. All holidays.
I don’t do Christmas or Easter or July 4th or any other holiday that sparks the imagination of my fellow cookie artists. I choke when faced with this daunting task. And, a collection of holiday cookies? Like a/an (animal of your choice) caught in headlights, I am paralyzed. My mind just doesn’t work that way. How can it, when people like Callye and Bridget and Marian , (just a few of the MANY talented designers out there) do such a magnificent job? Every. Single. Holiday.
I hide from my fabulous marketing team when they call/text/DM/email 3 or 4 months in advance of any and all observances that garner media coverage while selling products. I’m MIA despite having 3 different devices at my fingertips at all times. ”Too busy with orders”, I cry, after their futile attempts to contact me practically fail. Sometimes, I just ignore them, because I’m wishing and hoping and praying that whatever holiday is coming up just whizzes by without me or my cookies.
That is, until a recent excursion to a suburban big box store opened me to my truth. Well, not so much the store, but the parking lot. When I go to do my large quantity sundries shopping, I employ a particular parking strategy. I align my station wagon right next to the canopied ’return cart here’ area. That way, after I unload the flatbed piled high with toilet paper, paper towels, dish detergent and cotton swabs into the car, returning this unwieldy beast is simple. Not to mention that this ‘return cart area’ is so far from the actual store, no one in their right mind parks there.
Except for the last time I went shopping, and was surprised when I noticed the non-descript beige 4 door family car that sat quietly in the parking space adjacent to mine. After deftly maneuvering my haul next to the rear of my car, my eyes caught a glimpse of what was going on in that car next to mine. Two, how shall I say, close-to-middle-age adults were locked in each others’ arms, hungrily devouring each other with their ardent kisses; a sight rarely seen in a Jersey City Shoprite/BJ’s parking lot at noon in the middle of the work week.
Now, I’m as romantic as the next person, but I’m also a proud pragmatist with a cynical streak. WHO MAKES OUT IN A SHOPPING CENTER PARKING LOT AT NOON IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WEEK?
Come to your own conclusions. Think about it. You know I’m right. Please, I’m not judging, mind you. It’s none of my business despite the fact that I have to try to pack up the station wagon as quickly as possible without letting my eyes wander over to the wanton lust-fest occurring a few feet away from me.
So, while I loaded up the Charmin, the multi-packs of Sensodyne toothpaste and the box of Cascade that lasts for at least a year, I thought to myself, “Get a room.”
At that exact moment I had my breakthrough.
My cookies need to reflect my cock-eyed perspective of the world around me.
With my new philosophy firmly in place, I invite you to celebrate inappropriate public displays of affection this Valentine’s Day with my ‘Get A Room’ collection.
Of course I’ll still continue with my usual birthday cakes and favor cookies…heck, I’ve built a business around them, and I love them dearly. But this new dimension is purely for my entertainment.
Yours, too, I hope.
You know J, don’t you? She’s my partner in everything, and this week she celebrated a major birthday. M.A.J.O.R.
I’ll give you a hint. The number doesn’t start with a four, or a five. Impressive, right?
J doesn’t look her age at all, does she? This photo was cropped only, not adjusted, manipulated, tampered, tinkered or monkeyed with in any way shape or form.
Tonight we’re going to a dinner party given in J’s honor by her business partner, which is a really lovely gift. I was asked to make something for dessert. Of course, since this is a birthday party, cake is the obvious choice.
The problem is that J doesn’t share my love for all things sweet. Cookies can disintegrate in their jar before she’ll cast an eye at them. J would rather have a big bowl of broccoli. Chocolates can go completely white with bloom before she’s even interested in what they might taste like. Cheese, however, will never grow moldy in our refrigerator. Pie will get a mildly raised eyebrow, but it must have very little fruit filling with no sugar and a thick, double crust. A head of cauliflower will much more likely capture J’s full attention. Cake? That’s usually a big fat ‘no’.
Until this week. All of a sudden J decided she must have birthday cake. Not too sweet (preferably no sugar in it at all, but we all know that’s not going to happen), and not too much of it. Chocolate? Maybe. Vanilla. Nah. Mocha..how about mocha?
Okay, so mocha it is. Now, on to the decorations.
J, as you know, is a fashionista. She’s been in the biz for 38 years and still loves to get dressed up. Magazines and websites are scrutinized s, stores are shopped for wardrobe updates. All that attention to detail pays off; J always looks like a million bucks.
Notice the skirt?
Back to the cake. What kind of cookie theme could I concoct that would really do her justice? What would I come up with that just screams ‘J’ the minute everyone lays their eyes on it?
I scoured the apartment looking for some kind of clue, some kind of recurring theme. As I began opening drawers and flinging open closet doors, it came to me.
The belt drawer:
The den:
SCORE!
It doesn’t stop!
The pièce de résistance!
Working at home:
Or working at another’s home:
Oh, for crying out loud! The dog’s not even immune!
Clearly, there was only one way to go on this cake!
In the immortal words of J, ‘leopard goes with everything’.
I think she just might be right.
I’m so happy to tell you that I’m now going to be helping the nice people over at Cookie Cutter Company design cookies for some of the many wonderful cookie cutters that they sell! I am so flattered that they asked me, since I use SO MANY of the cutters they sell on their website. This is my first tutorial for them. For this and other great tutorials, head on over to their website!
Are the ‘to do’s’ on your holiday list still glaring at you? Especially since Christmas Day will be here in less than one week, which, in real time means the blink of an eye! And you STILL haven’t had the time/patience/energy to do decorated cookies with or even without the kids?
Don’t worry. I’m Gail, from “One Tough Cookie”, and I’m going to show you how to squeeze a little decorated cookie love into your holiday prep schedule without breaking a sweat. And, because you’re so stressed and I’m feeling so generous, I’m showing you two ways to make your family and guests smile.
Here’s what you’ll need:
- 2 flavors of cookie dough (vanilla and chocolate or chocolate and gingerbread..you want a color difference, too)
- Moose cookie cutter
- Stiff royal icing in a golden tone and medium brown.
- Flood royal icing in medium brown, red, white and black.
- 2 12 inch disposable piping bags
- 2 couplers
- 1 each no. 2 and no. 3 pastry tips
- 2 ounce squeeze bottles
- toothpicks
- old gold luster dust
- food safe paint brush
- high alcohol lemon extract or vodka
Begin with 2 flavors of rolled out dough…I’m using vanilla and chocolate.
The adorable moose is going to be transformed into an antlered, cartoony reindeer.
Cut cookies of both flavors.
With the tip of a paring knife or craft knife, carefully cut the antlers off each cookie and switch them to the other flavor’s moose head. Press the antlers carefully into the moose head so that when they bake, they’ll fully adhere.
Bake according to your recipe’s instructions.
Aren’t they cute? You can practically serve them up just like this, but don’t. We can ‘cute-n’ them up even more.
Start with the antlers. With your piping bag fitted with a no. 3 tip and loaded with golden colored stiff royal, pipe the antlers in a swirly, pretty pattern. I wasn’t concerned with reindeer anatomical-correctness, I just went for something that was pleasing to my eye.
After the antlers, I went ahead and piped an outline around the reindeer’s head with the medium brown stiff icing in a piping bag fitted with a no. 2 tip. Next, I did wet on wet eyes. With my white flood royal, I dropped two large-ish white dots for eyes, then immediately dropped in black. You can make them cross-eyed, looking up, down or to the sides to give your reindeer some personality.
What’s a Christmas reindeer with out a red nose?
Once the golden antlers dried, I painted on the gold luster dust. I love that this reindeer is goofy-looking. He’s sweet and not so precious that people won’t want to eat him, which is the whole point of making cookies, right?
For the second style, I wanted to make something a little more decorated, but nothing that would take up too much time in the kitchen.
I quickly outlined the head of the reindeer with my medium brown royal that I put into the squeeze bottle.
I let the outline set up for a minute or two before flooding the cookie.
Again, using the wet on wet method, I quickly dropped eyes in the following order:
- Black
- White
- Brown
- Black pupils
- White highlight
Make sure your flood is loose enough so that you can do all these drops without crusting over. Practice first on parchment to make sure you like what the eyes you are making, too.
You may even want to take a toothpick and pull out the corners’ of the ‘eye’ for more ‘realism’.
While waiting a few minutes for the eyes to set up, I added the antlers.
See?
I added funny lips and a small red nose to turn this reindeer into ‘Rudolpha’. I also piped a brown outline to define the ears and the tufts on the top of the head.
Don’t forget to paint on the luster dust! Put a small amount of dust into a small dish and add enough extract to make a paint out of it. Add more dust for more coverage. Be careful with your brushstrokes.
Now, stand back and admire your work!
Happy Holidays Everyone!!!!
Last April when Bonnie Benwick asked me if I’d like to construct a 3-D cookie for The Washington Post’s Annual Holiday Cookie article, I said yes, without thinking immediately.
Cookies are one thing, but a 3-D cookie is quite another, especially when shipping the structure is an integral portion of the process. After baking and tinkering, thinking and fretting, I constructed my cookies, packed them carefully and shipped them off to DC. Why is it that when ‘Fragile’ stickers are plastered all over a box, Fedex calls in the gorilla crew?
So, when Bonnie emailed and said cookies were broken, we came up with an idea. I’d accompany the cookies on a train to Washington, then build and decorate right there so they could be photographed. And, since the editors wanted a video tutorial to post as an online supplement to the article, we’d film the same day!
My cohort in all things cookie, Cathy Barrow , met me and my cookies at Union Station and then whisked me off to lunch. After a little sparkly libation and some scrumptious midday fare, we were on our way. Cathy’s more than a friend, more than a chauffeur. She was invaluable in her role as Cecile B. Spielberg. She took notes, she adjusted my wardrobe and if I’m not mistaken, I might have heard Cathy exclaim ”That’s a wrap!”
So, without further ado, please have a look at The Washington Post’s Cookie Guide , for the photos, recipe and video tutorial.
Thank you, Bonnie and The Washington Post, for giving me this wonderful opportunity.
Thank you, Cathy, for being such a good friend, driver and director.
Who doesn’t love a cookie swap? Especially when it’s for a very good cause.
By now you know that this this past Sunday, Bloggers Without Borders hosted this year’s event, aided by Ken Leung , Jackie Gordon and myself. Not only were there thousands of magnificent cookies baked up with love by about 90 food bloggers, but the event raised money for Cookies for Kids Cancer .
This was no ordinary swap, either, since it was held at Hill Country BBQ , where the intrepid Elizabeth Karmel reigns supreme. She’s a real live Texan, complete with cowboy boots, western shirt and drawl. She makes a mean brisket, too. Not the kind of brisket served at Rosh Hashonah, either, unless, of course, you’re celebrating in Texas. But, I digress. There were ribs and chicken, sweet potatoes and corn bread pudding, mac and cheese and margaritas.
Oxo , Kitchen Aid USA , Wiley Books and Cheap Cookie Cutter Company generously provided raffle prizes and favors for everyone. The nice folks at Glad sent their signature containers so we’d all have something in which to stow our swapped cookies.
There were chocolate & vanilla, lemon & lime, gluten-full and gluten-free, savory, sweet and savory AND sweet confections covering at least five 8 foot long tables. That’s a lot of butter, sugar and flour, people. And, a lot of love.
As I made my way around, trying to talk to as many people as humanly possible, I was as happy as I could ever be in such a giant roomful of humanity. You wonderful people are my colleagues, my peers, my tweeps, my peeps, my homies, my mishpocha . You’re as generous with your support and your friendship as you are with your cookies. You’re the reason this event was so especially successful. Even J, who doesn’t bake or cook, doesn’t eat, and doesn’t blog has found community amongst all of you.
My favorite cookie of the event? The ones that Julie Klam brought for Mitzi. Because even Mitzi likes a good cookie every now and again.
photo courtesy of @Casacks
photo courtesy of @casacks
Earlier in the week I had the honor of sitting on the finals judging panel for The International Culinary Center’s (formerly known as The French Culinary Institute) Pastry Program. After completing nine months of an intensive pastry arts program, the students’ skills were being put to one last final, grueling test.
The program is French in every way: students are taught to make tarts, not pies, gateaux , not cakes. There are entire sections of course study devoted to Mille Feuille (puff pastry), Viennoiserie (sweet yeast breads, like croissants, and pain au chocolat), Petit Fours, and Pâte à Choux. And, that’s just the beginning of the course. As the program progresses, students will find themselves elbow deep in tempered chocolate for bonbons , and manipulating molten lava-hot sugar for pulled flowers , and building cake stands constructed of pastillage .
As the course comes to an end the students are tested, in pretty much the same way the chefs were in the Kings of Pastry. The soon-to-be toqued chefs were to create a themed showpiece made of chocolate, poured sugar, or pastillage (more points if you use all three in some way) that holds samples of the cake, bonbons, yeast bread, and either a pâte à choux or mille feuille confection. Part of the test, too, is plotting out a production schedule and ingredient requisition, that can, most importantly, be accurate. And, a written exam covering EVERYTHING that’s been taught. All over the course of four class periods. The chef/instructor proctoring the exam watches closely to make sure the students are not running around like lunatics; that their individual work spaces are neat and orderly.
There’s no room for mistakes or calamities during this frenetic, take-years-off -your-life event. Humid conditions interfering with chocolate setting up? Deal with it. Did another student change the oven temperature while your macarons were baking? Deal with it. Poured sugar cake stand collapse? Deal with it.
Are you breathing hard now? Has your heart rate gone up a bit just reading this? Multiply that by about a gazillion and you’ll begin to understand what it’s like to go through this process. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Especially when you factor in that your work is going to be judged by a pastry professional whose identity will not be revealed until you’ve taken that long, lonely walk into the judging room to receive your critique.
Ah, the judging process. For about an hour and a half 3 other judges and I have been seated at a long banquet table, set with plates, silverware and constantly refilled water glasses. We may also have had 1 or 3 glasses of champagne to wash down the dainty, well-chewed and concentrated on bites of bakery product.
We have folders with all the corresponding paperwork that each student has had to submit with their projects, as well as a clipboard with the sets of evaluation forms for each student. Each item on each student’s plate will be evaluated for looks, successful use of technique, taste, and design.
Items are graded on a scale of 1-10, 1 being the lowest grade, 10 being the best. Following the same philosophy my chef/instructors used on my classmates and me, I never give a 10 in any category. That would imply perfection, and no one but the most accomplished, seasoned chef deserves a 10. So, with me as your judge, you’re only going to get a 9 if I think you’ve really nailed it.
I take this responsibility very seriously, despite the fact that I’m guzzling champagne all the while charged with said responsibility. I poke, I prod, I cut or tear apart.
I look, I study, I stare at a morsel of food from every possible angle. I smell it. And, finally, I insert the item into my mouth where I don’t so much chew as I mush it around between my tongue and the roof of my mouth to get a true sense of texture and taste. Hmmm…the opera cake doesn’t have a detectable coffee flavor, but I am getting the chocolate and hazelnut notes. Points off. The chocolate shell enrobing the peanut butter nougat is streaky, has pinholes and feet…points off! But the filling is luscious and smooth, so it’s not a total failure. Oh my, the brioche a tete is so over baked, the poor thing could be used as a hockey puck! Another judge in my shoes might flunk this poor student for such a disastrous offering, but I take into account the other offerings on the plate, how the showpiece looks and, of course, a good dose of nerves.
Now you understand why there’s a preponderance of deconstructed food on this plate.
The last item to be judged, which carries a lot of weight in the final analysis, is the showpiece. It should be neat, well executed, look like its original sketch, reflect the theme, and, hopefully, be constructed with a combination of chocolate, poured sugar and pastillage. I hit the jackpot this time. All the showpieces in my group were really good. This one, Starry Night in Autumn, might have been my favorite.
After we have finished critiquing, one student from each judge’s group enters to discuss their score. Poor things, they’re bedraggled and bleary-eyed with exhaustion. It was, after all, about 10 p.m., too, which is not my best time of the day, either. We introduce ourselves to each other, and then I begin explaining how I’ve arrived at the scores I’ve given them. For every negative comment, I try to counter with a positive comment and a suggestion as to how to improve or correct what wasn’t right.
I like to end my conversation with questions like what the student plans to do now that school is finished, or how they liked the course, or how they developed their love of pastry. I love seeing a smile emerge while hunched shoulders relax and straighten up knowing the worst is over. This was no slacker class, I’ll tell you that. One student had lined up an internship with Ron Ben Israel , another planned to go to London to begin work, another straight on to a restaurant management course. All with such passion, such excitement and optimism to make food that makes memories for people.
These students, and others like them, are the new blood that will, like the generations that preceded them, reinvigorate and reshape confectionary arts. They, like those before them, will take those recipes and techniques, some of which date back to the 19th century, and put their own particular spin on them. And, no matter what the style or the trend, they will then follow in the footsteps of the Kings of Pastry who taught them, and will teach the craft to the next generation of pastry chefs, so that our art is never lost.
I know you’ve noticed that I haven’t written a blog post in a very long time. VERY long.
There’s no real excuse for it, either. Yes, I’ve been crazy busy with everything that life has thrown at me, but who isn’t?
The truth is, I just didn’t feel like it. I don’t have an earth-moving tutorial to share right now. I’m not feeling particularly riled about an issue that pertains to small business owners.
I might have written about something sooner if, during the transfer to my new site, ALL the photos that were attached to ALL the blog posts had transferred over, too. But, no, that didn’t happen. The intensely tedious job of identifying, locating, resizing and uploading all those photos fell on me. So, I did what I do best at times like these. I pretend the problem doesn’t exist until I feel like tackling it.
As if that weren’t enough, something really strange happened to my wireless router. It wouldn’t let me on my site. Isn’t that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard? I open every single website the internets had to offer, except my own. It’s as if the universe (and Steven Jobs) was giving me a little extra time to enjoy my self-imposed exile.
What I have done is become more social in real life. Going to parties , for example. Getting together with friends on Saturday nights, or even during the week. You know, the kind of stuff we used to do before we chained ourselves to our devices. Isn’t it amazing how connecting with living, breathing humans can lift our spirits?
To those of you who haven’t unsubscribed from this blog, I apologize to you and thank you at the same time. I even got some emails from you asking if something wonky was going on with the site. You would think that might have ignited a spark in me.
The new router is in place and I spent a good deal of today immersing myself in tedium. All the uploads aren’t finished yet, but a big dent has been made.
And since we’re nearing the end of October, I thought I’d leave you with a little cookie gift.
Dia De Los Muertos, or a mocking self-portrait of my time away from my blog?
I’ll let you decide.
You people are terrific.
You opened your hearts and your checkbooks to help a friend in need.
You let me virtually bang my virtual gavel on Twitter and live out my auctioneer dream life.
You made me believe in the goodness of humanity again.
The winning bidder is ‘the pretty lady from CA’ as I referred to her in my tweets!
Carol Sacks (@casacks), you are the BEST!!! Thank you my sweet, caring friend.
