Mother's Day is next week and Ryan asked me in April what I wanted, which I appreciate, because it means he is not guessing and I am not receiving something aimed at who he thinks I am rather than who I actually am. I said: I want to go to the farmers market in the morning with the twins and then I want everyone to come for lunch and I want to cook, which is the correct Mother's Day for me, which is not a day off from my life but a day of my life done well and with everyone I love in it.
Matt and Kristin are coming from Springfield. Steve and Patty are coming. It will be a full house in our apartment, which is not large and which will accommodate everyone with the creative use of every surface and chair. I am making a strawberry layer cake from scratch, with cream cheese frosting, because strawberries are peaking right now and because making a cake for my own Mother's Day feels correct, feels like: I am the mother here, I will make the thing I want, I will eat the cake I baked in the kitchen of the life I built.
Owen said "Happy Mother Day, Mama" on Friday, unprompted, which Patty had clearly been practicing with him. He said it with the conviction of someone delivering an important message and then looked for confirmation that it had landed. I confirmed. He nodded. He went back to his trucks. Nora said "Mama birthday?" with the slightly confused interpretation of a child who knows that special things involve cake and therefore all special things might be birthdays. I said: not a birthday, Mother's Day. She said: cake? I said yes. She said: good.
I am a mother at thirty. I am a mother of two-year-olds, which is specific and demanding and completely itself. I am a mother who cooks from a dead woman's notebook and a mother who advocates for students who need more than anyone is giving them and a mother who goes to the cemetery on September 14th and a mother who studies for nothing in particular and a mother who is becoming something she could not have described from where she started. At thirty I can see forward and backward at once, which might be the gift of thirty: the view from here.
I’m already planning the strawberry cake, but a celebration table needs more than one thing to offer, and when the twins are circling the kitchen asking “cake?” every twelve minutes, it helps to have something they can actually have before the main event. These pistachio lemon lime shortbread cookies are what I’m making the night before — bright and buttery and just celebratory enough, the kind of thing that says spring and occasion without requiring the whole afternoon. They’re also, honestly, the thing I’ll eat standing at the counter while the layer cake cools, which feels correct for a Mother’s Day I designed myself.
Pistachio Lemon Lime Shortbread Cookies
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 14 minutes | Total Time: 34 minutes (plus 1 hour chilling) | Servings: 24 cookies
Ingredients
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
- 2/3 cup powdered sugar, sifted
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest
- 1 teaspoon lime zest
- 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 3/4 cup shelled roasted pistachios, roughly chopped
- 2 tablespoons turbinado or coarse sugar, for rolling
Instructions
- Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides as needed.
- Add citrus and vanilla. Mix in the vanilla extract, lemon juice, lime juice, lemon zest, and lime zest until fully incorporated, about 1 minute.
- Add dry ingredients. With the mixer on low, add the flour and salt. Mix just until the dough comes together — do not overmix. Fold in the chopped pistachios by hand with a spatula.
- Shape and chill. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and divide in half. Roll each half into a log about 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Sprinkle the coarse sugar onto a clean surface and roll each log through it to coat the outside. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or overnight.
- Preheat and slice. When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350°F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Slice the chilled logs into rounds about 1/3 inch thick. Place 1 inch apart on the prepared sheets.
- Bake. Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, until the edges are just barely golden and the centers look set but not browned. Rotate pans halfway through. The cookies will firm up as they cool.
- Cool. Let cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 148 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 28mg