Day of the Dead Cookies

November 2033. Twelfth state championship. We won in overtime, 34-31, on a Trevon Ashford run that I will describe to grandchildren someday. Fourth quarter, down four, two minutes left, third and eight on our own thirty-one. I called a draw play that nobody expected, least of all the defense who had been keying on our passing game all night. Trevon took the handoff, cut left, saw daylight, and ran sixty-nine yards to the eight-yard line. We scored two plays later. They tied it with forty seconds left. Overtime. We won the toss, Trevon ran forty-two yards on the first play, we scored on third down, and that was it. Twelve championships in fifteen seasons.

Elena called from Albuquerque just after midnight when I was still in the locker room. She said: I watched online, I saw you on the sideline when Trevon made that run, I've never seen you look like that on the sideline before. I asked what I looked like. She said I looked like I was praying. I said maybe I was. She laughed and said her first short story collection is going to be published next spring — a small press in Albuquerque, forty stories, three years of work. She'd been saving the news to tell me after the championship because she wanted both things to happen on the same night. I sat down on the equipment trunk, same as I sat after the first championship, same as I sat when Diego told me Keisha was pregnant, and I cried for the second time in one night.

Twelve championships and my daughter's first book and my son expecting a child and my father still calling on Sunday and my wife who made green chile chicken sandwiches in the July heat. I am a fortunate man. I say this to the walls, to the empty locker room, to Ruben who I talk to sometimes when no one is around. I am a fortunate man and I do not take a day of it for granted.

I sat in that empty locker room thinking about everyone I would have called if I could — my mother, Ruben, all the people who are gone but who carried me here just the same — and I thought about how November in our family has always been a time to remember them out loud. When I got home that night, I made these cookies the next morning with my grandchildren in mind, the one not yet born included, because Día de los Muertos has always been how my family says you are not forgotten and you are not gone. Twelve championships belong to every one of them.

Prep Time: 45 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 2 hr 30 min (includes chilling and decorating) | Servings: 24 cookies

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
Royal Icing:
3 cups powdered sugar, sifted
2 tbsp meringue powder
5–6 tbsp warm water
Gel food coloring in pink, purple, yellow, orange, and black
Assorted sprinkles and edible glitter for decorating

Instructions

Make the dough. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl; set aside. In a large bowl, beat butter and sugar with a hand or stand mixer on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the egg, vanilla, and almond extract and beat until combined. Reduce speed to low and gradually mix in the flour mixture until a soft dough forms.
Chill. Divide the dough in half, flatten each portion into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight. Do not skip this step — it keeps the cookies from spreading.
Preheat and roll. Preheat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Working with one disk at a time on a lightly floured surface, roll dough to 1/4-inch thickness. Cut into skull shapes (or rounds if you prefer) using a 3-inch cookie cutter.
Bake. Arrange cutouts 1 inch apart on prepared baking sheets. Bake 10–12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the bottoms are very lightly golden. Do not overbake — the centers should look barely done when you pull them. Cool on the pan 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before icing.
Make the royal icing. Beat powdered sugar, meringue powder, and 5 tablespoons warm water together with a hand mixer on medium-high until thick, glossy, and opaque, about 3–4 minutes. Add the sixth tablespoon of water only if needed to reach a smooth, pipeable consistency. Divide into small bowls and tint each with gel food coloring.
Decorate. Using small piping bags or zip-seal bags with a tiny corner snipped off, outline each cookie with white icing and let set 5 minutes. Flood the interior with thinned icing if desired, then pipe on floral designs, eye sockets, and swirling patterns in contrasting colors. Add sprinkles and edible glitter while icing is still wet. Allow icing to set fully, at least 1 hour, before stacking or serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Day of the Dead Cookies — A Night for Honoring Everyone Who Got Us Here