Spiced Cappuccino Kiss Cookies

Leo Miles arrived on December tenth at two forty-seven in the morning, eight pounds one ounce, with Gary's ears and Mia's stubborn chin and a voice that, according to Ethan when he called me at three thirty, could be heard from the hallway. He is perfect. I have now said this about four grandchildren and each time it is true in a way that is specific to that child and not transferable. Leo's perfection is large and emphatic — even in the first photographs Ethan sent at dawn he looks like someone who has arrived with intention.

I drove to the hospital after the school drop-off hour because Clara needed to go to her program, which Mia had arranged for in advance with the composure of a woman who has been planning this logistics puzzle for months. By the time I arrived, Mia was resting and Ethan was holding Leo with the expression of a man simultaneously more tired and more awake than he has ever been. I've seen this expression twice before, on this same man. It does not get less moving with repetition.

Leo opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling with the unfocused intensity of the very new, working out what light is, what faces are, what all of this means. Nothing means anything yet. Everything will mean something soon. That window — the window before meaning arrives — is so brief. I sat with him for twenty minutes while Ethan and Mia slept, just the two of us, the December light through the hospital window, and I talked to him the same way I talk to all of them: about food, about the family he's arrived into, about the kitchen that's waiting for him.

The postpartum meal kit went home with them the following day. Chicken soup, oat cookies, the casserole. Leo doesn't know about any of this yet. He will, in the way that children know things through the accumulation of being fed and tended: not as facts but as the bedrock certainty that someone was always already thinking about them before they even knew to ask.

Four grandchildren. Leo is the fourth and perhaps the last — nobody has said otherwise but the silence on that subject has a quality to it. Four. I have been feeding this family for a long time and there is more feeding ahead. I find I am not tired of it. I don't think I will ever be tired of it.

The oat cookies in Leo’s postpartum kit were already decided, but when I thought about what else to tuck in — something sweet for Ethan to reach for at two in the morning, something Mia could eat one-handed while holding a sleeping baby — these spiced cappuccino kiss cookies were the obvious answer. December baking has always leaned toward warm spice and a little bitterness balanced by sweetness, which felt right for the season and, honestly, for the particular tenderness of those first few days. They travel well, they keep, and they taste like someone went to the trouble, because someone did.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 32 minutes (plus 30 minutes chilling) | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons instant espresso powder
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar, plus extra for rolling
1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
36 milk chocolate kiss candies, unwrapped

Instructions

Make the dough. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, and espresso powder. Set aside.
Cream the butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add the egg and vanilla. Beat in the egg and vanilla extract until fully combined, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Combine wet and dry. Reduce mixer speed to low and gradually add the flour mixture, mixing just until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
Chill the dough. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. This helps the cookies hold their shape and deepens the spice flavor.
Preheat and prep. When ready to bake, preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Place a small bowl of granulated sugar nearby for rolling.
Shape the cookies. Scoop the chilled dough into 1-inch balls (about 1 tablespoon each). Roll each ball in granulated sugar to coat, then place on the prepared baking sheets about 2 inches apart.
Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the tops appear dry but the centers are still slightly soft. They will firm up as they cool.
Press the kisses. Immediately upon removing the cookies from the oven, press one unwrapped chocolate kiss firmly into the center of each cookie. The cookie will crack slightly around the edges — this is expected and part of the look. Transfer to a wire rack and allow to cool completely before storing or packaging.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spiced Cappuccino Kiss Cookies — The Sweetness We Bake Before They Even Know to Ask