St. Nicholas

When I was growing up we never had Christmas stockings but instead put out our shoes "like the Dutch children do". (We did eventually live in a house with a fireplace but by then we were wedded to the shoe concept). You might think that this arrangement would be something of a rip-off, given that the average stocking can hold far more than the average shoe. But Santa, taking pity on the poor little chimney deprived children in our house, always filled the shoes with small treats and then stacked big treats like coloring books and jars of pickles around the shoes.

Ah, the Christmas pickles...the coolest, the most coveted of shoe gifts. Growing up on a farm we had Mom's excellent homemade pickles. But being children we failed to fully appreciate the facts. For us the only pickle with cache was made by Nalley's and came from a store. We received pickles, sweet or dill according to our preference (Santa knew I loved sweet pickles) and many was the Christmas morning when the first thing I would enjoy were a few gherkins. And we were territorial about our pickles. We'd write our names on the labels before putting the remainder in the fridge. We monitored our inventory. We knew how many pickles we still had and how they were arranged in the jar. Woe to you if you hadn't the willpower to ration out your pickles and tried to snitch from a sibling. Castigation, assault and tattleling were your fate.

Back to the point, we loved putting out our shoes. I didn't have a stocking until I was an adult and a boyfriend gave me one. Of course, in the years when I wasn't seeing anyone at Christmas time I had neither shoe nor stocking. That's what happens when you live alone. With the advent of the Spouse the use of Christmas stockings returned and it is still my favorite part of the Christmas morning melee.

The Child, on the other hand, has the best of both worlds. She gets a stocking at Christmas but on the 5th of December she also puts out her shoes in anticipation of St. Nicholas stopping by on the eve of his feast day. Millions of kids get a visit from Santa, even kids who have no knowledge of or belief in the Baby Jesus. But, outside of Holland, how many kids do you know that get a visit from St. Nicholas? Lucky, lucky Child.

Most Americans, if they know anything at all of St. Nicholas, know some vague and weird stories about pickled boys restored to health, resurrected sailors and other freaky legends. But here's what we do know about Nicholas, the real Santa Claus. He lived from 270-310 and was a bishop in what's now known as Turkey. He was known for his good, charitable works, wisdom and compassion. He is the patron saint of little children. The Dutch for St. Nicholas, Sinter Klaas, is the derivation of the name Santa Claus.

I've been challenged from time to time by those sanctimonious types who think it is wrong to promote visits from fictional characters like Santa and the Easter Bunny, either because they are post-modern rationalists who see it as lying or they're fundies who have no sense of humor because most fundies have no sense of humor. A pox on both their houses. Story and legend have power to convey deep, important truths. Whimsey and magic encourage imagination and creativity. Plus, as a parent I rather enjoy being the agent of magical beings, assisting in the work of bringing a little surprise or 10 to a (fairly) deserving child. So there.

Anyway, time to stop blogging and go make cookie dough. The M Street Gang are coming over after school to decorate St. Nicholas cookies, a long-standing Advent tradition around here.

St. Nicholas Cookies

Whisk together thoroughly:

3 c. all-purpose flour
1 ½ t. baking powder
¾ t. baking soda
¼ t. salt
1 T. ground ginger
2 t. ground cinnamon
½ t. ground cloves

Beat on medium speed until well blended:
6 T (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, softened
¾ c. packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg

Add and beat until well combined:
½ c. molasses
2 t. vanilla
1 t. finely grated orange zest

Gradually stir the dry ingredients until well blended and smooth. Divide the dough in half. Wrap each half in plastic and let stand at room temperature for at least 2 hours or up to 8 hours, to develop the flavors. (The dough can also be stored for up to 4 days, refrigerated. Return to room temperature before baking).

To bake, position a rack in the upper third of your oven. Preheat oven to 375. Line cookies sheets with parchment (or lightly grease pans). Place half of the dough on a lightly floured work surface. Very lightly sprinkle flour over dough and dust the rolling pin. Roll out to a scant ¼ inch thick. Lift the dough frequently and ad a bit of flour to work surface and rolling pin as necessary. Cut out cookies and transfer with a spatula to cookie sheet, spacing cookies about 1-½ inches apart. Roll dough scraps and continue cutting out cookies until all the dough is used.

Bake, 1 sheet at a time, until the edges of the cookies are just barely dark, 7 to 10 minutes. Rotate baking sheet halfway through cooking time to ensure even browning. Remove sheet from oven when done and let cookies stand on rack until they firm up slightly. Then remove them to a rack to cool.