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Linzer Cookies — The Ones That Smell Like December and Someone You Miss

Two weeks until Christmas. The house is decorated — Lisa does the decorating because left to me it would be a wreath and some lights and nothing else, which she has described as "minimal to the point of sad." She's not wrong. I appreciate the lights once they're up. I lack the instinct to put them there myself. This is one of approximately forty-seven ways we're different from each other and which make the marriage work.

I made biscochitos this week. These are the New Mexican Christmas cookies — anise and cinnamon shortbread rolled and cut, the ones Gloria made every December without fail, the ones that were in a tin on the counter from the first week of Advent until they were gone, which was usually by Christmas Eve. I don't make them often — they take time and they are specifically a Christmas thing, not a year-round thing, and keeping them seasonal is what gives them their power. I made them Thursday with Sofia, who is meticulous about cookie cutting and who produced a perfect geometric series of stars and trees while I cut irregular shapes and called them "folk art." The kitchen smelled like anise and winter and like my mother's house in December and I cried a little while the first batch was baking and Sofia pretended not to notice, which is the most considerate thing a seven-year-old can do.

Called my mother to confirm Christmas logistics. We're driving down the 23rd. The tamale production starts the 24th. She has the masa ordered, the pork prepped, the red chile ground. The corn husks are soaking. She told me Marisol is coming with Alejandro. She told me that like she was daring me to feel something about it. I said good. She said yes. Good. We'll make room at the table. We always make room.

Diego's school had a winter concert Tuesday. He played a very dignified recorder. The twins were in the audience and could not maintain appropriate concert behavior for more than four minutes. Both were completely correct in their approach.

Sofia’s geometric precision at the cookie cutter is something I want to remember forever, and it made me think about what it means to have a recipe that only belongs to one time of year — the way protecting it seasonally is the same as protecting what it means. These Linzer cookies carry that same logic: buttery shortbread, powdered sugar, a bright window of jam that looks like something you’d find in a tin on someone’s counter in the first week of December. They’re the kind of thing you make with a child who takes the star cutter very seriously, and they hold up well for the drive down the 23rd, which is the practical reason, and the less practical reason is that they smell like exactly the right thing to be baking right now.

Linzer Cookies

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 1 hr 45 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 24 sandwich cookies

Ingredients

  • 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
  • 1/2 cup almond flour (or finely ground blanched almonds)
  • 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 2/3 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 3/4 cup seedless raspberry jam (or apricot, or strawberry)
  • 1/2 cup powdered sugar, for dusting

Instructions

  1. Make the dough. In a medium bowl, whisk together the all-purpose flour, almond flour, cinnamon, and salt. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the egg, vanilla, and almond extract and beat until combined. Reduce speed to low and mix in the flour mixture until just incorporated.
  2. Chill. Divide the dough in half, flatten each half into a disk, and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days. (This is where you hand a child a rolling pin and let them feel useful.)
  3. Preheat and roll. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, roll one disk of dough to about 1/8-inch thickness. Cut with your preferred cutter — stars, trees, rounds. For half the cookies, use a small cutter to cut a window shape from the center. Transfer all cut cookies to the prepared baking sheets.
  4. Bake. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until the edges are just barely golden. Do not overbake — they should look slightly underdone when they come out. Let cool on the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
  5. Assemble. Dust the windowed (top) cookies generously with powdered sugar. Spread about 1/2 teaspoon of jam onto each solid (bottom) cookie, stopping just short of the edges. Gently sandwich a dusted top cookie over each jam-spread bottom, pressing lightly so the jam peeks through the window.
  6. Store. Store in an airtight tin at room temperature for up to 5 days. They’re better on day two, when the jam has softened the cookie slightly and everything has settled into itself.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 35mg

Carlos Medina
About the cook who shared this
Carlos Medina
Week 90 of Carlos’s 30-year story · Denver, Colorado
Carlos is a high school football coach and married father of four in Denver whose family has been in New Mexico since before the Mayflower landed. He grew up on his grandmother's green chile — roasted over an open flame, the smell thick enough to stop traffic — and he puts it on everything. Eggs, burgers, pizza, ice cream once on a dare. His cooking is hearty, New Mexican, and built to feed a team. Literally.

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