Nanny’s Gingersnaps–Christmas in a Tin

cookie-tin

Before there was Lanier, one of my co-conspirators in Christmas was my dad’s mother, whom I called Nanny.

Vera and Eddie (Nanny and my dad)
Vera and Eddie
(Nanny and my dad)

Standing at just under five feet, Nanny was a spunky clothes-loving, perfume-wearing, kitchen floor-scrubbing (every single morning!) British Canadian. My dad was her only child, and, being her sole granddaughter, I was the beneficiary of countless games of go-fish, shopping junkets, cups of tea, and cookies. Lots of cookies.

The first thing we’d do–just she and I–when Nanny walked in our house was to sit down with mugs of milk-laced Lipton and a box of Stella D’oros, which she made sure were readily accessible in my grandparents’ tightly packed Oldsmobile.

stella-doro-continental-cookie-93367
Oh, yeah.

At Christmastime, Nanny and Grandpa left the Olds in the garage in Milwaukee and opted to fly to visit us in Connecticut. My dad, who worked in the city, would gather the pair from LaGuardia. One year, my parents devised a delightful scheme: My mother took my brother and I out of school, and our trio surprised my grandparents by appearing at the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. (Meeting in Midtown Manhattan was no easy feat back in the no-devices day. There were payphones and guesswork involved, and we shivered for more than an hour as we scanned the crowd for my father in his Brooks Brothers suit and Grandpa in his black fur cap–Nanny was too petite to try to pick out of a mob.) After the shrieks of joy and embraces that came with finding each other–“Oh, Eddie!” Nanny kept saying–the six of us went to lunch at a German restaurant. There we were seated at a table next to the tallest Fraser fir I’ve seen (indoors) to this day. As we feasted on schnitzel and noodles, we heartily agreed that German restaurants were the Christmas-iest.

Every Christmas, the week or so before Nanny and Grandpa’s flight, an enormous box of her homemade cookies arrived in the mail. Nanny’s cookies were stowed carefully between sheets of wax paper in round tins. Swearing secrecy, my mother and I would peek in each brightly colored tin and marvel at the variety–tiny cocoa mint sandwiches, jam thumbprints, pecan fingers, chocolate shortbread, and always, always Nanny’s gingersnaps. Spiced with ginger and cinnamon, these little butter-bombs melted in your mouth.

We still fill the cookie jar with them each Christmas.

Nanny’s Gingersnaps
yields three dozen

2 cups flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ginger
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/8 tsp. cloves
10 Tablespoons butter, softened
1 cup sugar, plus 1/4 cup sugar for dipping
1 egg
1/3 cup dark molasses

Sift together flour, soda, salt, and spices in a bowl. In a separate bowl, cream butter; add 1 cup sugar and cream until fluffy. Add egg and molasses. Stir in dry ingredients. Chill 30 minutes.

Take 1 Tb. or so of batter and mold with hands into balls. Roll balls in 1/4 cup sugar. Place at least 2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake in preheated 350-degree oven for 13-15 minutes.

 

 

 

 

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6 thoughts on “Nanny’s Gingersnaps–Christmas in a Tin

  1. Nanny’s gingersnaps are certainly a delight. And, man, look at my dear father-in-law as a kid! Very dapper, with a winning smile that suggests he knows a good bit more than he’s letting on. He still knows how to charm a roomful of folks, too, especially around the dinner table. Glad I got to meet his mom, if only briefly, about this time 25 years ago.

  2. I had never had homemade ginger snaps until I worked at a museum in Virginia. Our director made them for a Christmas tea we hosted. I begged and groveled for the recipe and make them as often as I can. I have to be able to share them or I will eat the entire batch of cookies.

  3. I’ll be making these ginger snaps. I’ve always loved Christmas, but this blog has me super excited for this year. Well done, Laura.

  4. Congratulations on this wonderful blog!
    Inspired by this article, I made the gingersnaps. They turned out quite differently if the photo above shows them: not flat, but still like the balls into which I rolled them. They flattened just a little while baking. And somehow I got 80 pieces (didn’t read carefully enough!)
    But they are delicious and will be a welcome addition to our usual cookies. Thanks for the recipe!

    1. Oh, dear, Martina! I must confess–this happened to me once! Using an oven thermometer, I figured out my oven was not hot enough. I’ve done a little research on this, and several things can go wrong: 1) The oven is not fully preheated or hot enough; 2) The butter is not creamed thoroughly; or 3) The batter is over-mixed. Sorry your cookies didn’t flatten–half the yum is the crackled top.

  5. Laura, thank you so much for doing research – I am touched! I tried to figure out as well what went wrong. I guess I should have done the metric conversion more carefully, with a calculator: I guess I have used too much flour. About three ounces too much. This explains, doesn’t it?
    But the cookies are really delicious, anyway!
    “Golden hours” is much appreciated here. Besides your lovely texts, all those pretty pictures inspire me. Lanier and you are such generous, lovely ladies to take us on this special journey. Hope you enjoy creating the blog as much as I enjoy reading here!

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