Santa Claus Sugar Cookies — The Sweetness That Comes After

Anna and David and the kids came up for the weekend. The house held everyone. The dishwasher ran four times. The fridge was full. The bed was made. The week was good. I am sixty-something and I have hosted my children and grandchildren in this house for forty years and the routine of the visit has become a polished thing — the way the towels go in the guest room, the way the coffee gets started, the way the Sunday breakfast happens at 9 AM with eggs and bacon and potato pancakes and limpa toast. Karin is having heart trouble. She had a procedure. She is fine. Stockholm is far. I called every day for two weeks. She said: "You are the most insistent sister." I said: "You are the only sister in Sweden." Fair, she said. We laughed. The laughing across the Atlantic, mediated by video call, is its own form of intimacy. We are eighty and seventy-something and we are still the small girls in the kitchen on Fifth Street, in some way that the years have not erased. Peter came up for a long weekend. He looked good. He brought Janet (the new woman). She made banana bread. She held her own in the kitchen. She made me laugh — twice, both times at her own expense, which is the kind of self-deprecation that signals an emotionally healthy person. I think this might be the one. I think this might be the one Peter has been waiting for, the one who can match his particular wounded honesty with her own steady-handed kindness. Thanksgiving is approaching. The brining starts on Tuesday. The pies start on Wednesday. The kitchen begins its annual reorganization for the bird — turkey out of the freezer to the cooler in the garage, fridge cleared for the brine cooler, the big roasting pan brought up from the basement, the carving knife sharpened, the gravy boat located (last seen on the top shelf of the pantry, where it lives all year except this one week). The kids are all coming. The house is going to be full. I am ready. I cooked Saffron buns this week. The Lucia buns, baked December 13 and again for julbord. The Damiano Center on Thursday: wild rice soup, fifty gallons. Gerald helped me ladle. He told me about a regular who got into a sober house this week — a man named Curtis, who has been coming for soup for eight years and who has been sober for forty-three days now. The soup did not get him sober. The soup was there when he was hungry. The soup is the door, again. The door is the chance. I read one of Paul's books in the evening. The Edmund Fitzgerald chapter. I have read it forty times now. The fortieth time is no less affecting than the first. The transmission still gives me a chill: "We are holding our own." Captain McSorley's last known words. The chapter ends with the wreck on the bottom of Lake Superior, and the men still inside, and the lake refusing to give up its dead. Paul read this chapter to me in 1989, on a winter evening, in the living room. I did not know then that he was reading me his own future. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. It is enough.

The Lucia buns were already done — the saffron still faintly in the air, the kitchen returned to its ordinary self — and I found myself wanting something to put on the table for the grandchildren when they arrive for Thanksgiving, something to carry us from this week all the way through to julbord and the long pull toward Christmas. The dead are in the kitchen, yes, but so are the living, and the living need something sweet to hold. These Santa Claus Sugar Cookies are not Swedish, exactly, but they belong to the same season, the same instinct — to make the house smell like welcome, to put something good in a child’s hand, to keep the table growing.

Santa Claus Sugar Cookies

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus 1 hour chilling) | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 1/4 cup sour cream
• For the icing:
• 2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
• 3–4 tablespoons whole milk
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Red and white gel food coloring
• Assorted sprinkles or sanding sugar for decorating

Instructions

1. Whisk dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
2. 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-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3–4 minutes.
3. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then mix in the vanilla extract and sour cream until fully combined and smooth.
4. Combine. Reduce mixer speed to low and gradually add the flour mixture, mixing just until no dry streaks remain. Do not overmix.
5. Chill the dough. Divide the dough in half, flatten each portion into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight. Cold dough holds its shape when cut.
6. Preheat oven. When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
7. Roll and cut. On a lightly floured surface, roll one disk of dough to about 1/4 inch thickness. Cut into Santa Claus shapes (or any holiday cutter you have) and transfer carefully to the prepared baking sheets, spacing about 1 inch apart.
8. Bake. Bake for 9–11 minutes, until the edges are just set and the tops look dry but not browned. The cookies will firm up as they cool — pull them a little early for a softer result.
9. Cool completely. Let cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Do not frost until fully cool.
10. Make the icing. Whisk together the powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla until smooth and spreadable. Divide into portions and tint with red and white gel coloring as desired. Decorate with a small offset spatula or piping bag, then add sprinkles or sanding sugar before the icing sets.
11. Set and store. Allow icing to set fully at room temperature, about 30 minutes. Store in a single layer in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days, or freeze undecorated cookies for up to 2 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 138 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 72mg