Ambrosia Cookies

The cookie tins went out this week. I assembled twelve tins — foil trays from the dollar store lined with wax paper, each one loaded with an assortment: three chocolate chip, three sugar cookies, two snickerdoodles, two peanut butter blossoms, two Russian tea cakes. The math of Christmas cookies is serious business and I track it on a spreadsheet that Kevin says is "aggressive" and I say is "organized."

Neighbors, Kevin's office, my office, the kids' teachers, Dad, Mom, Kevin's parents, the mailman. The mailman gets a tin because he delivers packages in the rain and doesn't complain and that kind of commitment to duty deserves cookies. He left a thank-you note in the mailbox that said "Best cookies on the route" and I framed it. Kevin said framing the mailman's note was excessive. I said recognition motivates people. The frame stays.

We went to the school Christmas concert Thursday. Emma sang in the choir — sang is generous; she performed in the choir — and Noah operated the sound system because he volunteered for anything that involves equipment. Jack sat in the audience with Kevin and me and watched everything with his serious eyes and clapped at the end with the careful deliberation of someone assessing a performance. He's five. He might be the world's smallest critic.

I made Swedish meatballs for dinner one night this week — a recipe I haven't made in years, one of Marlene's that she got from a church cookbook in the seventies. Ground beef and pork, breadcrumbs soaked in milk, nutmeg, allspice. The meatballs are browned, then simmered in a gravy made from the drippings, beef broth, sour cream, and a touch of Worcestershire. Served over egg noodles. It's not Swedish. It's Iowa-Swedish, which is a different cuisine entirely, one that exists only in church basements and family kitchens and involves more cream of mushroom soup than Stockholm would approve of.

Kevin put up the outdoor lights this weekend. He was on the ladder for three hours. The lights blink in a pattern he calls "festive" and I call "seizure-inducing." We compromised on the steady setting. Marriage, like so many things, is a negotiation conducted in small concessions about things that matter less than they seem to. The lights are fine. The house looks like Christmas. That's enough.

The tin that earned the mailman’s note — the one that’s now framed, Kevin’s opinions notwithstanding — had a few of these Ambrosia Cookies tucked in alongside the standards, and I think they’re what pushed it over the edge. They’re a little unexpected, a little tropical amid all the cinnamon and peanut butter, and that contrast is exactly what makes a tin memorable rather than just generous. Marlene used to say that a good cookie plate needs at least one thing that makes someone say “what is this?” before they reach for a second — this is that cookie.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 36 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 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon orange extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
3/4 cup dried pineapple chunks, roughly chopped
3/4 cup dried sweetened cranberries
1/2 cup white chocolate chips
1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar together with a hand or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add eggs and extracts. Beat in eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Add vanilla extract and orange extract and mix until combined.
Mix dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add the dry mixture to the butter mixture, stirring just until a dough forms — do not overmix.
Fold in mix-ins. Using a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, fold in the shredded coconut, dried pineapple, dried cranberries, white chocolate chips, and nuts if using, until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
Scoop and space. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto prepared baking sheets, spacing cookies about 2 inches apart. Slightly flatten each ball with the palm of your hand.
Bake. Bake for 10—12 minutes, until the edges are just golden and the centers look just set. Do not overbake — they firm up as they cool.
Cool. Allow cookies to cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. Cool completely before packing into tins or storing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ambrosia Cookies — The Kind Worth Framing a Thank-You Note Over