cherry-almond biscotti and other hard things in life

Spell check does not like the word biscotti. It underlines it for me, in its bright red zig zag pattern, mocking my confidence in cookies. Like the mother in law that still remembers the times you did not hold to her standards, spell check is there: saying “that is wrong”.

Well, spellcheck, it’s right.

Biscotti.

The cookie that feels so wrong as you make it. I mean, really: it goes against every typical cookie recipe, because you bake it, slice it and then bake it again… to the point where it’s a cookie rock. But that’s what your coffee is for. To tenderize that cookie rock so that you can savor the sweet delicate flavor of it…yum.

If only there was a special hot tub to soften hard people.

🙂 I would buy that.

So: today we are in December! Ooooo, how I embrace December. December is where my everyday becomes sparkly. My plain wine glass is put away, and my Spode gold rimmed wine glass makes it’s appearance at dinner.

My teal mug is hibernating in the cabinet alongside my wine glass, and I now sip my coffee from a jolly snowman. But, it’s not just for the beverages: My computer desk is transformed into a miniature village, complete with tiny lights and people bustling about. There are the daily antics of our Elves, Ned and Nelly complete with occasional toilet paper hi jinks and hot cocoa surprises.

My baking cabinet is stocked with chocolate, sprinkles, coconut and assorted colorful candied fruits, begging to be made into rum soaked white fruit cake, and homemade fudge. The house smells of sweet pine, and evening meals are a bit heartier and spicier to warm up chilly nights. Okay, it’s supposed to be 85F today, but I am planning on chilly nights ahead.

Oh, how I love December.

The normal mundane tasks of running errands are highlighted by sparkly lights, and cheerful songs permeate the radio stations, and the idea of giving is broadcasted far and wide.

This December is special to me. This December is birthing new hope, joy and promises. Promises that once seemed unreachable in the past, both personally for me and historically speaking. There was a December, not long ago where my light had darkened: the prospect of death and doom lay ahead in the future, and hope was a smoldering ember in the past.

That’s not that far from how the people of ancient times felt. Under oppression and doom, sadness and grief came the thrill of hope, and a weary world rejoices.

This year, a weary me rejoices.

Weary me indeed. Sleep deprived and loving it. Excitement that can’t contain itself, it cannot be wrapped and placed in a box to enjoy on a specific day. No, this excitement- it is every moment filled with awe and wonder of the miracle of new birth and life. Much like the birth of Jesus. Take December: in all it’s sparkly glory with glittery ornaments, twinkling lights and sugary treats. Claim your stake in the wonder and awe of the magic this month holds. Take it to heart, hold a hand and savor the days.

Make cookies.

Biscotti maybe?

Cool dough to knead, studded with candied cherries and almonds.