In Polish I call them pierniczki. In English I say gingersnaps. In both cases, some further explaining is warranted, because there is an unexpected quality to these, both texturally (so unsticky! such crunch!) and flavorwise (no cloves, whoa!). There is similarity to Dutch speculaas and Swedish pepparkakor, but something here stands apart from everything else. Maybe it’s that geometric austerity. Or the shattering crispness. Or all the toasted butter. Or the nutmeg (again).
I’d love to give credit where it’s due, but I’ve been making these for two decades and I have absolutely no idea where I got the original recipe—or how aggressively I made it my own in the first place. Today these are simply my December mainstay, and then occasionally also my January encore. I often double or triple the recipe, then tend to bake off all of my dough at once, but there’s no reason not to split that into several occasions. The dough can wait in the fridge for weeks (and probably also outside of it). The cookies keep indefinitely, too, so the schedule is as flexible as it gets.
The only tricky ingredient you’ll need is either dark Muscovado sugar or molasses. And don’t assume that substituting turbinado sugar, light Muscovado, honey, date syrup, or maple surup will get you a similar result. Molasses is a tar-black mineral-rich acidic superfood that’s nearly unpalatable on its own but delectable as a strategic ingredient used alongside baking soda in this sort of recipe. Dark Muscovado, in turn, is the chemical equivalent of combining regular sugar (white or tan) with dark and sticky molasses.
As for the flavorings, I’ve tried lots of things and my absolute favorite combo consists of woodsy-sweet cinnamon, zingy ginger, and penetrating nutmeg. As for cloves, black pepper, cardamom, mace, orange zest, and vanilla—I’ve tried them all in this recipe on different occasions and it’s a conscious choice to leave each out of the mix. But you’ve got your tastes, I’ve got mine, so go ahead and trust your palate.
Here’s what you need—
200 g butter
200 g dark Muscovado sugar (or 170 g sugar + 30 g black cane molasses)
300 g flour (wheat or spelt)
½ tsp salt
½ tsp soda
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
¾ tbsp ground ginger
½ tsp ground nutmeg
And here’s what you do—
In a bowl or stand mixer cream the butter and sugar or sugar-molasses mix. In another bowl sift together all of the dry ingredients. Add the dry to the wet and mix well to combine. Now shape the dough into logs or a rectangle, wrap in parchment or plastic and refrigerate for at least a few hours, preferably a day or more, and up to as many weeks as you like. When you’re ready to bake, take out the dough and let it soften a bit, though not so much that it’s too slack to work with. Preheat your oven to 175° (no fan) and slice the dough. The thinner the slices, the less these will spread—and the better the texture. You can also try rolling these into tiny balls no bigger than a little cherry, but as pretty as those look I prefer the texture of a thin, crisp cookie. If you want to cut out shapes, that’s possible, too. Loads of fuss, but on the plus side rerolling won’t be a problem (because such a high-fat low-moisture dough is pretty resistant to both drying and gluten overdevelopment).
A cool kitchen will make shaping easier, as will popping everything into the fridge (or onto the cold, cold balcony) at the first sign of a dough so warm it is hard to cut and move onto the baking sheet. Bake for ten minutes or so, watching out for the telltale smell of deliciousness without a hint of the telltale smell that something is burning. It’s not easy to watch for browning with these because they’re already quite insistently brown, so watch your nose, watch the clock, stay alert. If you find they’re not crisp enough after they’ve cooled (it happens), you might need to put them back into the oven for four to five minutes—way more than that extra one minute they should have baked for in the first place. They’re delicious right away, but better on the next day and every day after that. Leave them loosely covered on a cooling rack for the first 24 hours, then put them in boxes or jars, which don’t even have to be airtight. Store at room temp for as long as you want to.
I love these. I love the way they look, smell, and feel. I love the way they’re so thin and tiny you can have a dozen and come back for a dozen more. I love the way they are non-traditional and completely traditional at the same time. I love the sound they make when you eat them. If you decide to make them I hope you love them, too.
I was devouring these by the fistful as I typed this, you know.