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Nutty Pie-Crust Cookies — The Coins I Make When the Real Gelt Is Never Good Enough

The last night of Hanukkah. Eight candles plus the shamash, the menorah full and blazing, the room warm with light and the smell of wax and the particular beauty of a flame that has been tended for eight days, built one candle at a time, arriving now at its fullest expression. I stood in front of the menorah with Marvin beside me and I said the blessings and the Hebrew was familiar and ancient and mine, as it has always been mine, as it was my mother's and her mother's and the mothers before them who lit candles in rooms I will never see in countries I will never visit, and the light traveled from their candles to mine across centuries and pogroms and an ocean and arrived here, in this dining room in Oceanside, on the last night of Hanukkah in the worst year anyone alive can remember, and the light was steady and bright and it did not go out.

David drove down for the last night — masked, distanced, but here, in the house, standing in the dining room with a mask on, looking at the menorah. He brought a gift for Marvin — a photo album that Jennifer had assembled, photos from their wedding, from David's childhood, from vacations and holidays and ordinary days. The photos are for Marvin, but also for the disease — a challenge, a dare, a collection of evidence that says: you were here, you lived this, these people are yours. Marvin looked at the photos. He smiled at some. He didn't recognize others. But he turned the pages, and the turning was its own kind of remembering — the body's memory of holding a book, of turning pages, of looking at pictures with someone you love. He turned the pages. David watched. I watched David watching Marvin turning the pages and I thought: the light lasts. The oil lasts. The love lasts. Even when the memory doesn't.

I made my chocolate gelt cookies — a Hanukkah tradition I invented when David was small, cookies shaped like coins and dipped in chocolate, because real chocolate gelt is terrible and my cookies are not. Ethan and Sophie and Noah received theirs by porch delivery. Ethan texted (he has a tablet now, at seven, which I find both practical and alarming): "Thanks Bubbe the cookies are SO GOOD." Capital letters from a seven-year-old. The highest praise.

These are the cookies — the ones Ethan texted about in capital letters, the ones delivered by porch to three grandchildren who couldn’t come inside. I’ve been making a version of them since David was small, shaped like gelt coins because the holiday calls for it, dipped in chocolate because everything is better that way, and built on a buttery, nutty pie-crust base that gives them a crunch store-bought candy will never have. On a night when so much of the light was symbolic — the menorah, the photo album, the masked visit — it felt right to send something real and edible and made by hand out into the dark. This is that recipe.

Nutty Pie-Crust Cookies

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 32 minutes | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup finely ground walnuts or pecans
  • 1/4 cup powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 2 tablespoons ice water, or as needed
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips
  • 1 teaspoon vegetable shortening or coconut oil (for thinning chocolate)
  • 2 tablespoons finely chopped toasted nuts, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Make the dough. In a food processor or large bowl, combine flour, ground nuts, powdered sugar, and salt. Cut in cold butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add vanilla and ice water one tablespoon at a time, mixing just until the dough comes together. Do not overwork.
  2. Chill. Flatten the dough into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.
  3. Preheat and roll. Preheat oven to 350°F. On a lightly floured surface, roll dough to about 1/8-inch thickness. Using a round 2-inch cookie cutter (or a small glass), cut into coin-shaped rounds and place on ungreased baking sheets.
  4. Bake. Bake 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just barely golden. Watch carefully — these are pale cookies. Transfer to a wire rack and cool completely before dipping.
  5. Melt the chocolate. In a small microwave-safe bowl, combine chocolate chips and shortening. Microwave in 30-second bursts, stirring between each, until fully melted and smooth.
  6. Dip the coins. Dip the top half of each cooled cookie into the melted chocolate, letting excess drip off. Place chocolate-side up on a parchment-lined sheet. Sprinkle with chopped nuts if desired. Let set at room temperature or refrigerate for 10 minutes until chocolate is firm.
  7. Store. Layer between sheets of wax paper in an airtight container. Store at room temperature up to 5 days, or refrigerate up to 2 weeks.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 78 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 22mg

Ruth Feldman
About the cook who shared this
Ruth Feldman
Week 248 of Ruth’s 30-year story · Oceanside, New York
Ruth is a sixty-nine-year-old retired English teacher from Long Island, a Jewish grandmother of four, and the keeper of her family's Ashkenazi recipes — brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, and a noodle kugel that has caused actual arguments at family gatherings. She lost her husband Marvin to early-onset Alzheimer's and now cooks his favorite meals for the grandchildren, because the food remembers even when the people cannot.

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