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Cherry Kiss Cookies -- The Sweet Close of Cookie Season

I drove to Grinnell Saturday. Roger was in the garden — the garden that is his whole world now, the 82-year-old man who tends six tomato plants and twelve sunflowers with the same care he once gave four hundred acres. He's slower but he's still Roger. He still watches the crop reports. He still calls Jack on Wednesdays.

The recipe this week: ham and bean soup. Standing at the stove, Marlene's wooden spoon in my hand (the cracked one, the one that will outlast us all), the recipe either from the card box or from my own expanding collection, both equally real, both equally mine. The kitchen holds all of it — the old recipes and the new ones, the teacher's food and the student's food, the grief and the joy and the cinnamon. All of it. Always.

The cookie season has ended and the soup season has settled in. The kitchen smells like broth and thyme and the slow simmer of food that takes hours and rewards the hours with warmth. Winter cooking is patient cooking. The patience is Marlene's gift. The cooking is mine.

Before the soup pot took over and the broth started its slow simmer, there was one last round of cookies — and these Cherry Kiss Cookies were it. The cherry dough felt right for the season, cheerful and a little indulgent, the kind of thing you make when the kitchen still smells like cinnamon and you’re not quite ready to let go of the holiday feeling. I made a batch the week before I drove to Grinnell, and I left a tin of them on Roger’s kitchen table. He has a sweet tooth he’ll never admit to. These are the ones he reached for twice.

Cherry Kiss Cookies

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 1 hr (includes chilling) | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/3 cup maraschino cherries, drained and finely chopped (pat dry thoroughly)
  • 36 chocolate candy kisses, unwrapped
  • 2 tablespoons maraschino cherry juice (reserved from jar)

Instructions

  1. Beat the butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and granulated sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
  2. Add the wet ingredients. Mix in the egg, vanilla extract, almond extract, and reserved cherry juice until fully combined, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
  3. Add the dry ingredients. Reduce mixer speed to low and gradually add the flour and salt, mixing just until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
  4. Fold in the cherries. Gently stir in the finely chopped maraschino cherries by hand with a spatula. The dough will be soft and slightly sticky.
  5. Chill the dough. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. This firms the dough and helps the cookies hold their shape during baking.
  6. Preheat and prep. When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
  7. Roll and place. Scoop chilled dough into 1-inch balls (roughly 1 tablespoon each) and place them about 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheets.
  8. Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the bottoms are very lightly golden. The centers should still look slightly underdone — they will firm up as they cool.
  9. Press in the kisses. Remove from the oven and immediately press one unwrapped chocolate kiss firmly into the center of each cookie. Work quickly while the cookies are still hot so the kiss adheres.
  10. Cool completely. Let cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Allow the chocolate kisses to fully set before stacking or storing, about 30 minutes.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 112 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 38mg

Diane Holloway
About the cook who shared this
Diane Holloway
Week 354 of Diane’s 30-year story · Des Moines, Iowa
Diane is a forty-six-year-old insurance adjuster in Des Moines who grew up on a four-hundred-acre farm that her family had worked since 1908. When commodity prices crashed and the bank came calling, the Webers lost the farm — four generations of heritage sold at auction. Diane left with her mother's casserole recipes and a cast iron skillet and rebuilt her life in the city. She cooks Midwest comfort food because it tastes like home, even when home doesn't exist anymore.

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