The week before Thanksgiving and I am in full preparation mode, which for me means lists. Lists of ingredients, lists of tasks, lists of the emotional labor involved in hosting divorced parents who are polite to each other in the way that only divorced people who have practiced politeness for fifteen years can be polite — smoothly, automatically, with the occasional seismic tremor underneath that only their daughter detects.
I prepped the kuromame — the sweet black soybeans that require a three-day soak and simmer. The rusty nail went in. The apartment began its annual transformation into a sweet-soy-scented time machine, the smell transporting me to every New Year's in Fumiko's apartment, every pot of kuromame she has ever made, every new year she has ushered in with patience and precision. I am making kuromame for Thanksgiving, not New Year's, because the boundaries between holidays are arbitrary and because I want Ken to have a taste of his mother's food at the table, even if the table is in Portland and the holiday is American.
Brian offered to help with Thanksgiving prep. I said yes. I gave him vegetable peeling duty. He peeled potatoes and carrots and butternut squash with the careful concentration of a man who has been given a task and is determined to complete it without asking questions. We worked in the kitchen together for two hours — me chopping, him peeling, Miya sitting in her high chair eating crackers and observing — and it was peaceful in a way that our kitchen rarely is. The kitchen is usually my space, my sanctuary, the room I retreat to when the world is too much. Having Brian in it felt like an intrusion at first and then, gradually, like a collaboration. Two people, one kitchen, shared purpose. Maybe this is what the marriage needs. Not grand gestures. Shared peeling.
The yuzu arrived from Uwajimaya. Small, fragrant, intensely citrusy — yuzu is the Japanese citrus that smells like a lemon met a mandarin orange at a garden party and they decided to have a child who was more interesting than either of them. I zested one and the kitchen filled with perfume. The yuzu tart will be extraordinary. I am already nervous about it. Perfectionism and anxiety are first cousins, and they both show up for Thanksgiving.
The yuzu tart is still on my list — it will happen, perfectionism and anxiety and all — but in the spirit of the shared-peeling, one-task-at-a-time Thanksgiving we are apparently building this year, I also wanted something I could hand Brian to finish on his own without supervision. These lemon sugar cookies are that thing. They carry the same bright, floral citrus note that made the whole kitchen smell extraordinary when I zested that first yuzu, and they require nothing more complicated than a bowl, a baking sheet, and the careful concentration of a man who has already proven he can follow instructions. Consider them the approachable cousin of the tart — less nervous, just as fragrant.
Easy Lemon Sugar Cookies
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 24 cookies
Ingredients
- 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
- 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar, divided
- 1 large egg
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
- 1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest (from 1–2 lemons)
- 1/4 teaspoon yuzu extract or additional 1 teaspoon lemon zest, optional but encouraged
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
- Whisk the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
- Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with 1 cup of the sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2–3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
- Add wet ingredients. Beat in the egg, vanilla extract, lemon juice, and lemon zest (and yuzu extract if using) until fully combined. The mixture may look slightly curdled — that’s fine.
- Combine. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
- Roll and coat. Place the remaining 1/4 cup sugar in a shallow bowl. Scoop dough by rounded tablespoon, roll into balls, then roll each ball in the sugar to coat completely.
- Bake. Arrange dough balls on the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Gently flatten each ball slightly with the palm of your hand. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the centers still look soft. They will firm up as they cool — do not overbake.
- Cool. Let cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. The perfume when they come out of the oven is its own reward.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 138 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 62mg