As a public school child in the 70’s, my Valentine’s Day often ended in tears. I remember digging into my optimistically large brown paper bag in first grade to find only three envelopes, even though my mother had insisted I fill out mass-produced cards for every child in my class. “No one likes me!” I […]
Even though Purim is over a week away, we baked three dozen hamentashen yesterday. I am not the kind of person who typically prepares for a holiday (or anything, for that matter) many days in advance. But we had good reason to open up shop early – Bubbe was here. My mother makes the world’s best hamentashen. Cookie dough, prune inside (don’t even talk to me about chocolate chips and jelly you PAGAN) and overflowing with gobs of filling – exactly the way her Bubbe made them.
I am not a wonderful baker, at least not when it comes to anything that requires a delicate hand and patience. Which means, my challah is pretty good and I can churn out a tasty apple crisp, but trying to roll dough and hand-shape triangles usually leads to unattractive results. Overflowing lumpy brown jam doesn’t improve the picture, if you get my drift. So yesterday, Bubbe and the girls did a little m’dor l’dor (generation to generation) while mommy took pictures. Since Jewish cooking is a major component of the curriculum for those of us who home-shul, I’m glad my girls had a proper teacher.
I forgot to take pictures of the fruits of their labor before I wrapped them and put them in the freezer, but I’ll post them when we make our mishloach manot.
And now, the secret recipe. This is how I wrote it down, about a million years ago.
Dough: 3 c flour / 2 eggs / 2 tsp baking powder / 1 stick butter / 1/2 tsp salt / 3/4 c sugar
Filling: 1 lb pitted prunes soaked overnight in water (about an inch higher than the prunes), cook with a little sugar and cinnamon until very soft. Squeeze in a little lemon.
Mix it all together. In a way that, you know, seems baker-y. Roll, cut and fill so they look like hamentashen. Hamayvin yavin.
Bake at 375 for 12-15 minutes, until lightly brown around the edges.