Mom—s Buttermilk Cookies — What Helen’s Notebook Taught Me About Baking for Birthdays

January. Deep cold. Minus eight on Tuesday morning, the warmest it got was fourteen on Wednesday afternoon. Vermont January in its proper form. The woodstove earns its place in these weeks. The farm requires more attention in extreme cold: the water line in the barn, the barn itself, the pipes in the outer kitchen wall that run cold when the temperature stays below zero for more than two nights. Everything works. Everything requires that it be checked.

I've been cooking from the 1987 notebook more deliberately this winter, working through it page by page. This week: a French lentil soup with smoked pork that Helen had marked with a single asterisk — her one-star system meaning "good, make again." I made it on Monday and ate it through the week and it's better than good. The lentils, the smoked pork, the vegetables, a splash of red wine vinegar at the end that brightens everything. It's the kind of soup you forget is simple until you eat it and realize: oh, that's it. That's the thing.

My birthday is next week. Seventy. I've been sixty-nine for a year and it was fine, and seventy will be fine. Carol is coming for dinner. Sarah will call at eight. Teddy will call at four. Bill from Maine has sent something in the mail that I'm not opening until the day, which is the right protocol for a thing sealed and mailed. The ordinary ceremony of a birthday when you're seventy and have what you need and the people who matter are around in the ways that matter.

Carol is coming for dinner, and I wanted something to set out with the coffee after — something small and sweet that didn’t announce itself too loudly. Flipping ahead in the 1987 notebook past the soup, I found Helen’s buttermilk cookies, no asterisk, just the recipe in her careful hand, which I’ve come to understand means she considered it a given. For a birthday that I want to feel ordinary in the best sense, a plate of soft, plain cookies on the table is exactly right.

Mom’s Buttermilk Cookies

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup buttermilk

Instructions

1. Preheat and prep. Heat the oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Whisk dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg until evenly combined.
3. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 to 4 minutes.
4. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping down the sides of the bowl between additions. Mix in the vanilla extract.
5. Alternate wet and dry. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk in two additions (flour — buttermilk — flour — buttermilk — flour). Mix just until the dough comes together; do not overmix.
6. Portion onto sheets. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. The dough will be soft and slightly sticky.
7. Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the tops are no longer glossy. The cookies should be pale — do not let them brown.
8. Cool. Let the cookies rest on the baking sheet for 3 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They firm up as they cool and develop their characteristic tender, slightly cakey crumb.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 115 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 70mg