Autumn crunch

Why is crunch such a desirable quality in a cookie, but less appealing in other parts of your life?

A cookie with crunch is satisfying, crisp, and hearty, while crunch time is something to be dreaded—that moment or span of overwhelmed scheduling with too much to do in too little time, and big expectations of weathering such a crunch with poise and rigor.

And then there are the crunches you do at the gym, or the ones that I do, nearly daily, trying to keep up with the calories crammed into class days in which I am told to taste-test twelve bites from twelve classmates’ plates of food—lamb stew, roast chicken, hollandaise, béarnaise, and bordelaise sauces too. Someone will burn the cream sauce, scorching it on the bottom of a too hot pan, and you will have to swallow it. Someone will serve you, the accidental vegetarian, a huge slice of meat, and you will have to eat it. There will be undercooked poultry, and overcooked confections, and you will have to ingest them all, crushing them into your stomach obligingly and with quiet panic.

At the end of the week your classmates will ask if you want to grab a drink, and you will politely decline, both because you’ll need to get up early for work in the morning and are feeling the crunch of your too tight schedule, and because you just ate twelve-bites of questionably poached eggs and you’ll be spending the rest of your evening crunched into the fetal position, in bed, hunched around your mid-section protectively and slowly waiting—hoping, praying—that your stomach will soon unclench.

Somewhere, in the middle of the first few weeks of the culinary school crunch, I managed a crunch of a different sort—the first cookies of fall, and of a new kitchen. Of course, recipe meddling ways are still intact, so I’ve noted adjustments to the recipe below, most notably the addition of flaxseed meal, which made these shortbreads an extra crunchy and filling sort of sweet in an already too full week.

Walnut Shortbread Cookies (or, whole wheat, walnut, rosemary, flax shortbread squares)

From Miette (with additions and alterations)

Makes about forty-eight 1 1/4-inch cookies

Ingredients:

1/2 cup walnut pieces, lightly toasted (and 1 Tbs fresh rosemary)

1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour (nope, I used all whole wheat)

1/2 tsp kosher salt (I used sea salt, because that’s what I had in the cabinet, and I like salty cookies)

1 cup cold unsalted butter, cubed (I used only one stick of butter and substituted ground flaxseed meal at a 3:1 ratio for the rest. It gave the cookies that healthier, heartier, satisfyingly autumn crunch)

3/4 cup sugar (I used part sugar, part honey, to impart a more earthy flavor)

1 egg yolk (I used 1 whole, small, farm egg…just because)

sea salt (yes, I sprinkled more on top)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and grease a cookie sheet or line it with parchment.
2. When the walnuts are cool, finely grind them in a food processor along with the rosemary.
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment on low speed, or with a sturdy wooden spoon and your own momentum because you do not have a stand-mixer in your tiny kitchen, beat together the butter and sugar until lightened, about 4 minutes, or until your arm gives out. Add the egg and mix until fully incorporated. Add the flour, salt, crushed walnuts and rosemary and mix until just combined.
4. If the dough is soft, wrap it tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Otherwise, roll out the dough 1/2 inch thick on a lightly floured work surface into a 6-by-7-inch rectangle. Using a ruler, square the edges as much as possible. Then, using a sharp knife or pizza cutter, cut the dough into 1-inch squares. Place them about 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheet. Cookies with flaxseed meal will spread slightly less than those made with the full amount of butter. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt.
5. Bake the cookies until they are firm, 10-15 minutes. Flaxseed and whole wheat flour, if used, will give the cookies an overall darker appearance. Remove to a wire rack to cool. Store in airtight containers for up to 2 weeks.

Remember not to get too excited about your new rolling pin and roll the dough too thin (guilty). The cookies will still taste good, but will more closely resemble sweet crackers.