Super Fluffy Sugar Cookies And How To Give Love

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The French don’t really do Valentine’s Day. For them it’s half “Feast of Saint Valentine,” some mostly-forgotten Christian tradition and half some imported, commercial American thing. Personally, I’ve had my share of lamentable coupledom V-days that don’t bear revisiting. Despite this, the kitsch and sweetness of the idea of Valentine’s Day never gets old. Every year when February rolls around, I have a deep urge to make all things pink and heart-shaped and tell everyone I know just how much I love them. The French, in my experience, are also not huge on open displays of affection, but a Californian’s gotta do what she can in terms of cultural exchange.

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Lately, I’ve been noticing a thing, about culture and personality. I grew up in a culture that I will massively generalize as open and bright–effusive, if you will. It’s flip-flop culture, invite-you-for-a-beer-and-barbecue culture, bear hugs and back slaps and complicated high five culture. It’s open collar, short shorts, Technicolor t-shirt or just no shirt culture. Bikinis, bicycles, sun tans, and long tangled hair. It’s all those simple stereotypes you see in movies, plus all the layers of nuance that reality and one person’s individual experience of the world add.

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It’s a culture I was never comfortable in growing up. I was quiet and dark, physically self-conscious, naturally introverted and preoccupied with being deeply intellectual, imperatively creative, and also just a nerd. Over the course of my teenage years and early adulthood, I learned my own culture. I practiced having a sense of humor and starting friendly conversations with strangers. I trained in the art of high-fives, fist bumps, and bracing hugs. I developed a style of dress that lets me feel expressed and that connects to the society that I come from.

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But I’m not in that society any more. All of the modes of communication and habits and needs that I developed to live and love in a certain kind of American culture suddenly don’t apply. Here, my colorful clothes say extrovert instead of artist. A certain kind of friendliness can be misinterpreted for allure, and all of the tricks and tools I learned to get over my shyness no longer work because, um, they’re in English, and my life is now in French.

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I want to connect with the people around me, but I don’t always know how. I bake a lot of cake, and that’s not a joke. It’s a way to offer a part of myself to show that I care. Fortunately, food love transcends culture, even if the French aren’t as fond of peanut butter in their baked goods as we are in the States. At the same time, it’s just one way. It’s a way that connects and a way that comes naturally to me. But I admit, I feel a little stuck.

I feel like I’m back to being fifteen years old, finally lifting my head from the pages of my book and realizing that there’s a whole world around me, a whole universe of brilliant, genuine, tender human beings to share with and love if I can just learn to speak their language and understand their ways. I asked a friend yesterday if it shows that I feel a bit out of sorts. He laughed and said, “We can tell that when you say something, you’ve been thinking about it for three hours…or three days.”

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It’s funny to be seen. For so many years, I deliberately hid in the pages of my books and colors of my paints, and when I finally chose to be brave and go into the wide world and share and trust and be a person with other people, I tried to learn fast and not mess up too obviously. I’ve always been afraid I’d get kicked out. From where, to where, by whom…it’s not so clear, but the fear is present all the same. On my own, I’ve always felt like an alien, a small woodland creature, or a wildling spirit mistakenly left in the world of humans. I think we are many to feel this way. We try to keep our strangeness inside, and we think of others as being united and not strange.

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The gift of Dhagpo, of community in general, and this one in specific, is both the inevitability and the ability to be seen. We are all together all the time. We work and eat and live and study and love and suffer and grow together. It’s impossible to be here without eventually both discovering and revealing all the bizarreness we generally do our best to hide.  And I’m beginning to see, it’s not so bizarre as that. It’s just the way we are in this life, the things we have yet to understand, the trust we have yet to develop, but that grows, day by day, in others and ourselves.

I don’t really understand how the French show love as a culture. And I don’t yet understand very well the particular kinds of love that speak to each brilliant and bizarre individual with whom I live and love and grow. But to realize that this is what I am seeking—how to love, and also how to be loved—this is a good beginning. And for now, there is cake, and cookies too.

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Super Fluffy Sugar Cookies with Brown Butter Icing

For the cookies:

2 cups (250 grams) all-purpose flour

1/3 teaspoon (2 grams) baking soda

1/3 teasspon (2 grams) baking powder

pinch salt

1/3 cup (75 grams) butter, softened

2/3 cup (135 grams) granulated sugar

1 egg

½ vanilla bean

½ cup crème fraîche

For the icing:

2 ½ cups powdered sugar

4 tablespoons butter, browned

milk as needed

food coloring

For the cookies:

In a medium bowl, sift together dry ingredients. In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add egg and beat to combine. Split and scrape out the seeds from the vanilla bean. Add vanilla seeds and crème fraîche to wet mix and stir until completely combined. Add dry ingredients, and stir just until combined. Pat into a rectangle, wrap in saran wrap, and place in the fridge for at least one hour.

Preheat the oven to 350˚ F (180˚ C).

Dust the countertop generously with flour as the dough is sticky. Unwrap the dough, and pat both sides with flour. Roll out to 3/16-inch thick. Cut with a 2-inch heart cookie cutter. Place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet, with ½ inch of space between each heart. Bake 7-10 minutes, until lightly golden.

For the icing:

Sift the powdered sugar into a bowl. Stir in the browned butter. Add milk, one tablespoon at a time until you get a thick liquid, about the viscosity of honey. Add a few drops of food coloring until you reach the color you want. Dip each cookie in the icing, allow the excess to drip off, and place on a cookie sheet to set for fifteen to twenty minutes.

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5 thoughts on “Super Fluffy Sugar Cookies And How To Give Love

  1. Well, I’ve been looking all around for a cookie recipe like this. I will give these a go. I need something which won’t spread, and if they puff a bit, all the better. Thanks.

  2. Hi joyride. I met you and your mom through Sara when she was crocheting sweaters.
    Your writing is beautiful and touching.
    I have spent many summer holidays in the Dordogne and love it.
    How do I subscribe to get your blog?

    • Hi there!

      Wow, so great to hear from you after all this time! I must admit, I can’t tell from your username what your name is, so I’m having a hard time placing you in my memory. Were you among the crocheters we worked with?

      In any case, I’m so glad that the blog speaks to you and you’d like to subscribe. In order to receive an e-mail when it is published, scroll down until you reach the end of the sidebar (the list of things marked along the outer right edge of the blog page…dunno how familiar with blogs are; apologies if this is unnecessary info). There’s a little grey button that says, “subscribe.” When you click on it it, it should pop up a box where you can enter your e-mail or, if you have a wordpress account, you can subscribe through your wordpress reader. I hope that helps! If not, let me know.

      And thanks again and all the best to you! If you’re in the Dordogne in the future, drop me a line; we can grab a café au lait and a gateau au noix. 🙂

  3. Pingback: Rainy Day Reflections And The Three Pillars | purelysubjective

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