Chocolate Biscuit Puffs

Rachel called on Thursday. She's read the manuscript. She cried. She cried at the brisket chapter. She cried at the matzo ball chapter. She cried at the Marvin chapter. "Mrs. Feldman," she said — she still calls me Mrs. Feldman, twenty years after my classroom, which I find both touching and slightly ridiculous — "this book is going to make everyone who reads it call their mother." I said, "Good. They should call their mother. Their mother is probably making soup." She laughed. Then she said, "I want to take this to publishers. I think Knopf will want it." Knopf. The publisher. The publisher of real books, of important books, of books that sit on shelves in bookstores and libraries and are read by people who love reading. Knopf wants my book. Or Rachel thinks Knopf will want my book. The thinking is not the having. But the thinking is the beginning.

I told Rebecca. She screamed. Rebecca does not scream. Rebecca is a woman of measured responses and considered reactions and academic composure. Rebecca screamed. Then she said, "Mama, Knopf published Chekhov in English." I said, "I am not Chekhov." She said, "Chekhov didn't make brisket." This is the finest literary comparison I have ever received.

I made rugelach. Celebration rugelach. The cookies of triumph. The crescents of a woman who is sixty-seven years old and who has written a book and whose literary agent thinks Knopf will want it. Sylvia would say, "It's fine." Sylvia would mean: I am bursting with pride and I cannot say it directly because directness about pride is vulgar and Rosen women are not vulgar, we are understated, we are fine, everything is fine, and the fine is the pride, and the pride is the fine.

Rugelach were what I had in mind — the crescents, the tradition, the specific weight of a Rosen-family celebration — but I was out of cream cheese and I was not going to wait, not on a day like this. These Chocolate Biscuit Puffs are what happened instead: fast, warm, improbably good, and on the table before Rebecca had even finished her second phone call to tell the cousins. Sometimes the occasion chooses the cookie. Sometimes you open the pantry and the pantry is wiser than you are.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 12 puffs

Ingredients

1 tube (12 oz) refrigerated buttermilk biscuit dough (10 biscuits)
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a standard muffin tin or line with paper liners.
Prepare biscuit dough. Separate biscuits and flatten each one slightly with your palm into a round about 3 inches across.
Fill with chocolate. Place a small cluster of chocolate chips (about 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons) in the center of each flattened biscuit round.
Form the puffs. Fold the edges of each biscuit up and around the chocolate chips, pinching firmly to seal. Place seam-side down into the prepared muffin cups.
Add butter topping. Stir the vanilla extract into the melted butter. Brush generously over the top of each biscuit puff.
Add cinnamon sugar. Mix the granulated sugar and cinnamon together. Sprinkle evenly over all the buttered puffs.
Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the tops are golden brown and the biscuits are cooked through. The chocolate inside will be soft and melted.
Finish and serve. Let cool in the pan for 3 minutes before transferring to a plate. Dust with powdered sugar if desired. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Biscuit Puffs — The Cookies You Bake When Knopf Might Want Your Book