Mid-December, and the cookbook manuscript has reached one hundred and forty pages. The writing has found its rhythm — the rhythm of mornings at the desk, the rhythm of the recipes that pour from the journal to the page like water finding its level. Each chapter is a recipe and a story. The recipe feeds the reader's kitchen. The story feeds the reader's heart. And the combination is the book, and the book is Mama, and Mama is the woman in the chair who no longer knows she is being written about but who is being written about with the love of a daughter who will not let her be forgotten.
I have been thinking about the dedication. The dedication is the part of the book that the writer writes last and the reader reads first, and the first-ness and the last-ness are both important: the dedication must be the first thing the reader encounters and the last thing the writer decides, because the decision of who to dedicate the book to is the decision of who the book is for. The book is for Joy. The dedication will be: "For Joy, who tastes everything and remembers what matters."
The dedication came to me on Tuesday, at the desk, at five AM, in the dark, with the coffee. The words arrived the way the best words arrive: unbidden, complete, carrying within them the truth they express. Joy tastes everything. Joy remembers what matters. And the what-matters is not the recipe or the name or the year but the taste — the taste of peach cobbler, the taste of Mama's love, the taste of a life that has been simple and full and entirely Joy's.
I made pecan pie — the December pie, the holiday pie, the pie that is both dessert and meditation, the slow pouring of the filling, the patient baking, the cooling that takes longer than you think. The pie was for Robert, whose favorite dessert is pecan pie and who has been waiting for me to make it since Thanksgiving. The waiting was Robert's patience. The pie was my love. And the exchange — patience for love, love for pie — is the marriage.
The pecan pie cooled on the counter for Robert, and while it cooled I found myself reaching for something else — something for the in-between hours, the hours when the manuscript is resting and the dedication has finally been written and the kitchen wants to be useful again. These pumpkin cookies with caramel frosting are that kind of recipe: patient, soft, unhurried, the kind of thing that fills the house with a warmth that matches the feeling of a dedication finally found. I made them for Joy, too, in my mind — because Joy tastes everything, and these are worth tasting.
Pumpkin Cookies with Caramel Frosting
Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 37 min | Servings: 36 cookies
Ingredients
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 cup canned pumpkin puree
- 1 large egg
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- Caramel Frosting:
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
- 1/4 cup whole milk
- 1 1/2 to 2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
- Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together with a hand or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
- Add wet ingredients. Beat in the pumpkin puree, egg, and vanilla extract until well combined. The mixture may look slightly curdled — that’s normal.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt.
- Mix dough. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the pumpkin mixture, stirring just until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
- Scoop and bake. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough about 2 inches apart onto the prepared baking sheets. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are set and the tops look just dry. The cookies will be soft — they firm up as they cool.
- Cool completely. Transfer cookies to a wire rack and allow to cool fully before frosting. Patience here matters: frosting warm cookies will cause the caramel to slide.
- Make the caramel frosting. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the 3 tablespoons of butter. Add the brown sugar and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes until the sugar dissolves and the mixture bubbles. Add the milk and bring just back to a boil, then remove from heat.
- Finish the frosting. Whisk in the sifted powdered sugar and vanilla extract, starting with 1 1/2 cups and adding more until the frosting is thick, smooth, and spreadable. Work quickly — caramel frosting sets as it cools.
- Frost and serve. Spoon a generous teaspoon of warm caramel frosting onto each cooled cookie and spread gently with the back of the spoon. Allow frosting to set for 15 minutes before serving or stacking.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 138 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 72mg