Yom Kippur came and went. I fasted for twenty-five hours, which at fifty-nine requires more endurance than it did at twenty-nine, when I could fast all day and teach a class and make dinner and barely notice the absence of food. Now I notice. The headache arrives around hour fourteen. The irritability around hour eighteen. By hour twenty-two, I am having a profound spiritual experience that is indistinguishable from low blood sugar. But I fast, because the fast is the point — the voluntary emptiness that makes the refilling meaningful.
The break-fast was at our house. Twenty-four people, which is a medium-sized gathering by Feldman standards. The table: bagels from Bagel Boss (I am not above store-bought bagels when I have been fasting for twenty-five hours; Sylvia would have made them from scratch, but Sylvia had more energy than any human being who has ever lived, and I have made my peace with my limitations), lox from the fish counter at the good market, cream cheese, whitefish salad (homemade — I draw the line at store-bought whitefish salad, because some things are sacred), tomatoes, red onion, capers, and the rugelach that I baked the day before the fast, because rugelach waits for no holiday.
David ate four bagels. Rebecca ate two and argued with a cousin about Israeli politics, which is the traditional post-fast activity of American Jews. Marvin ate quietly and methodically, the way he does everything — one bagel, perfectly constructed, cream cheese to the edges, lox folded precisely. He is an accountant even when eating. Everything balanced. Everything exact.
Sophie, at six months, was the star of the evening — everyone wanted to hold her, and she tolerated the attention with the equanimity of a baby who is accustomed to being admired. Ethan ran laps around the dining room table. Jennifer chased him. The house was full of noise and food and the specific chaos that accompanies any gathering of more than twelve Jews and fewer than thirty, which is the sweet spot for a break-fast: loud enough to feel alive, small enough to feed.
I wrote about break-fast on the blog — about how the first bite after a fast is the holiest bite of the year, how it tastes more vivid, more real, more necessary than any bite you will take until next Yom Kippur. How the entire theology of fasting is contained in that first bite: you give up food to remember that food is grace. You empty yourself to remember what fills you. You stop eating to remember why you eat. And then you eat a bagel with lox and cream cheese, and it is the best thing you have ever tasted, and you are alive, and you are grateful, and the new year begins.
The rugelach I mentioned were gone before the second hour was up — twenty-four hungry people who haven’t eaten in twenty-five hours make short work of anything pastry-related. These days I keep a second batch of something in reserve, and for the past few years that something has been Almond Joy Cookies: chocolate, coconut, almonds, the whole candy-bar fantasy in drop-cookie form. I bake them the day before alongside the rugelach, they travel well, they hold overnight without drying out, and when you set them on the table next to the bagels and the lox and the whitefish, nobody complains. The fast breaks, the first bite lands, and everything — even a cookie — tastes like grace.
Almond Joy Cookies
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 24 cookies
Ingredients
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
- 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1/2 tsp fine salt
- 2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
- 1 cup sliced almonds, lightly toasted
Instructions
- Preheat. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
- Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat softened butter with granulated sugar and brown sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
- Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in eggs one at a time, then mix in vanilla extract until fully incorporated.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Add to the butter mixture in two additions, stirring just until no dry streaks remain — do not overmix.
- Fold in mix-ins. Using a wooden spoon or spatula, fold in chocolate chips, shredded coconut, and toasted sliced almonds until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
- Portion and bake. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are set and golden but the centers still look slightly underdone.
- Cool. Let cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They firm up as they cool. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days — or bake the day before a holiday and they will be perfect by the time the table is set.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 105mg