My Oma is Better than Yours

When you have an Oma, you have no choice but to be crazy about food and cooking. Amanda and I got our food-frenzy from our parents, and John most certainly got it from his parents- my Oma and Opa.

Oma and Opa (my Yugoslavian grandparents...from back when there was a Yugoslavia) came to the good ol’ US of A in the early 50’s, with the twins Walter and Ernie in tow, and lil’ Johnny just a bun in the oven. Having survived the war, Oma and Opa spoke no English, had little money, and set out to achieve the American Dream. They ended up in southern California (Hemet, to be exact) where they started an egg ranch. From raising chickens and selling eggs for a living, to making homemade sausages, liquor, goulash, paprikash, spaetzel, schnitzel, and strudel for their growing family, Oma and Opa had a love affair with food from get-go, and passed it directly to their boys- who have taken turns working in restaurants and butcher shops, and who all have fantastic gardens and palates.


Growing up, Amanda and I experienced these delicious traditions through Oma’s Christmas boxes (Oma cookies will kick the butt of your American Grandma cookies any day). Filled to the brim with homemade Christmas cookies (nutty crescents, jam filled butter cookies, sugar cookies with a lemony icing) and thick, heavy strudels with flaky sweet dough (a walnut/rum/raisin, and a gooey-amazing poppy seed) the arrival of these gift baskets meant Christmas had truly arrived. Growing up we didn’t always have the means to make trips to Southern California from Washington, so Oma’s Christmas cookies were the next best thing.

In the summer of 2002, Amanda and I visited Oma and Opa for the first time in about 7years (for the first time as adults), and were greeted with the best of all greetings- a ham hot from the oven with homemade horseradish and fresh juicy garden tomatoes, hot cabbage rolls in flaky wonton type wrappers-still dripping from the fry pan (just a snack, Oma says), and crispy yet moist homemade ‘fryin chicken’ (just an appetizer, Oma says). During that visit, we ate until we could barely move, played more games of dominoes than I can count, marveled at old black and white photos of Oma and Opa in Europe in the 40s and 50s, and snuck into the Orange groves with Opa, where he proceeded to climb trees and toss oranges to us. Opa passed away later that summer, and we have never forgotten how special that trip was, or how happy we were to have spent that time with him. Since then, the four of us (John, Mel, Amanda and I) have made sure to visit more often… which we just did.

Last weekend the fam flew down to Hemet. Our trip started, as most Oma visits do, with a hot freshly baked ham (even in 100 degree Southern Californian August), made into sandwiches on rolls slathered with horseradish and piled high with Uncle Walter’s juicy sweet tomatoes. We dined on ham sandwiches morning, noon, and night, in addition to sticky buns, cookies, pork chops, pasta salads, chicken & rice, burgers, and potatoes. Halfway through our trip, Oma pulled a tray of cabbage rolls from the fridge… all rolled up and ready to fry. We devoured those in seconds.


On our final morning at Oma’s, Amanda and I got a lesson in Oma Cookery. Oma’s “fryin’ chicken” is somewhat of a legend. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, really, just basic fried chicken, but Mel, try as she might, has never been able to recreate the golden fried deliciousness of Oma’s chicken. Amanda and I donned our European style aprons and got to work, frying chicken with our Oma. You can try to recreate Oma's chicken, but it probably won't be the same if you don't actually make it with an Oma.


Oma’s Fryin’ Chicken:

Step 1: Combine 2 granddaughters and 1 Oma
Step 2: Button up your Euro-style aprons
Step 3: Have Uncle Walter or Uncle Ernie de-bone the chicken breasts and slice them thinly
Step 4: Arrange said chicken breasts in kitchen sink and pat dry- sprinkle first with seasoning salt, then with salt & pepper- rub.
Step 5: Whisk 'a little bit' of milk with eggs in a bowl, mix 50/50 Italian bread crumbs and plain in a flat dish, fill another flat dish with flour.
Step 6: Dip chicken breasts in flour, egg, breadcrumbs- repeat with all pieces. NOTE: gently pat breadcrumbs into chicken… do not flatten with your fist.
Step 7: Pour vegetable oil into electric skillet circa 1962 (they just don’t make them like they used to). Heat to about 467 degrees.


Step 8: Add chicken pieces to oil, turning once after a minute or two.
Step 9: Drain on paper towels.
Step 10: Eat as much as you can possibly stuff in your overly full belly, then pack the rest for the plane ride.
Step 11: Hug Oma, kiss Oma on the cheek, devour chicken, repeat.

Lavender and Rosemary Lemon Cookies

My Oma just celebrated her 90th birthday. In case you don't remember, my Oma—or grandma—is this awesome woman, of paprikash fame. And now she's 90. Ninety!! What a crazy life she's led, and what an amazing family she's built. 

We spent the night of her birthday party dancing the polka, and taking shots. Lots of shots. That European side of the fam sure can drink! Evan went with me, and met Oma, and the rest of my dad's family, for the first time ever. They loved him, of course. Especially after he wore Uncle Ernie's lederhosen. The whole thing was totally crazy, and totally wonderful. 

Oma lives in Southern California, so we also got to soak up some sun. We drove through citrus orchards, and picked a million meyer lemons and kumquats from her back yard. Seriously, the woman had an insane amount of citrus just weighing down her trees. And now I have an insane amount of citrus in my home, here in dreary Seattle. I really have a million lemons, or at least 30. My bag got searched at the airport because of it. Don't worry, they didn't confiscate my lemons. Or my kumquats. Close call. 

There's nothing like a bowl full of bright yellow lemons to brighten up a cold, dark winter!

Meyer Lemon Cornmeal Cookies with Lavender or Rosemary

Adapted from Cooking Light

These cookies seriously summer in every bite. They're sweet, tangy and herbaceous, and they really hold up to a bold cup of Earl Grey (or a bowl of vanilla ice cream). The lemons and rosemary for these came from Oma's yard, and the lavender came from my parents' yard.  

1 cup all-purpose flour 

1/3 cup yellow cornmeal

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt 

3/4 cup sugar

6 tablespoons butter, softened 

2 tablespoons honey

1 large egg 

1 tablespoon meyer lemon zest

1 tablespoon meyer lemon juice

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

1 teaspoon finely chopped lavender buds 

Glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

fresh meyer lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350, and line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. 

Whisk to combine flour, cornmeal, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Combine sugar and butter in a large bowl/stand mixer, and beat about 5 minutes, until light and fluffy. Add honey, and beat until combined. Add egg, beat well. Mix in lemon zest and juice. Add dry ingredients to wet, and mix until just blended.

Separate dough in half, and mix lavender  into one half, and rosemary into the other. Spoon small rounds of dough onto baking sheets. Bake at 350° for 10-12 minutes, until golden brown around the edges. Cool until firm enough to move from pan, and then cool completely on rack. 

For glaze, stir together powdered sugar and a tablespoon of lemon juice. Add more juice until desired consistency. Once cool, dip tops of cookies into glaze, and let sit until glaze dries. Then eat, preferably with tea. 

Fried Cabbage "Strudel" Rolls with Powdered Sugar and Jam

You might think I’m crazy, but today we’re pairing powdered sugar and jam with…cabbage! Mmmm…cabbage dessert! I know it sound pretty weird, but these cabbage rolls, smothered in powdered sugar and dipped in jam, are something from my childhood. One of my favorite comfort foods! I used to ask for these for my birthday every year (for breakfast!).

Bowl of Love: The Family Paprikash

Even with the arrival of spring, I feel like it’s not too late for a hearty, warm-your-soul type of stew. Especially if you’re like us vampires in Seattle and you won’t see actual sun until the 4th of July. And really, who needs cold weather to eat my Oma’s amazingly delicious and comforting Chicken Paprikash? I don’t recall the time of year ever having any bearing on when I ate this dish growing up.

Had a bad day at school or work? Paprikash will cheer you up. Won your softball game, landed that big account, or beat the most difficult level of Angry Birds? You deserve a big bowl of paprikash! Big house full of people? Make a big pot of paprikash! Potluck? Take paprikash! Hungry? Hey…why not paprikash!? See! Anytime is paprikash time… and it’s so fun to say! Paprikash, paprikash, paprikash! And, let’s be real here… people love to eat paprikash even more than they love to say it. Even if you didn’t grow up eating up the stuff, you’ll like it. It might be a bit unfamiliar at first—the chicken and plump, chewy dumplings, floating in deep red, creamy gravy spotted with little shiny pockets of oil. Tangy and sweet, with a slight peppery bitterness when the paprika hits the back of your throat…trust me, it’s good. Really, really good. And Mel has the recipe down to a tee.

My mom’s mom, Grandma Carol, is from Oklahoma, so Mel grew up on biscuits and gravy, pots of lima beans with smoky hamhocks, and pit-bbq’d pork shoulder served with whisky or cold iced tea. When she married into my dad’s Eastern European, strudel-and-goulash eating family; with their homemade wine and slivovitz (plum brandy); it must have been a delicious union. John learned to love chip beef on toast (also fondly known as Shit on a Shingle) and chicken fried steak, and Mel learned to make paprikash. She watched my Oma make this dish time and time again to get it right. And, although she made some changes along the way, get it right she did.

My parents’ 30th anniversary is coming up this summer, so obviously Mel's been doing something right…I think it’s the paprikash. Evan has even enjoyed a bowl or two himself…just sayin, it makes a man fall in love.

Oma’s Chicken Paprikash, Mel Style

2 tablespoons Vegetable oil
1 large onion- chopped or sliced
3-4 heaping tablespoons sweet Hungarian paprika
2 large chicken breasts, quartered (Oma used bone-in thighs)
Salt, pepper
2 cups water
½ cup sour cream, whisked together with a splash of water and spoonful of flour

In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat oil, and add onion. Cook, stirring occasionally, until almost translucent. Add paprika—it will seem like a lot, but trust me, the more the better—and stir to combine. Heat through for several more minutes—adding at the beginning of the cooking process intensifies the smoky-sweet, robust flavor—and cook until the onions are cooked through, stirring almost continuously. Add chicken and stir to coat with paprika, let brown slightly, and add 2 cups of water. Bring to a boil, then turn heat down and simmer for an hour. Add more water if needed.

Meanwhile, make the dumplings. Combine 3 eggs, 1 teaspoon vegetable oil, ¾ cup water, and 3 cups flour the bowl of your stand mixer. Mix with bread hook until combined—dough will be thick and sticky. In a pot of boiling, salted water, add 5-6 tablespoon sized dollops at a time, and cook for 1-2 minutes, until cooked through. Dumplings should be slippery on the outside, and bready on the inside. Set aside a bowl-full for later, in the refrigerator, and add the rest to the simmered paprikash.

Before serving, stir in sour cream mixture, salt, and pepper to taste. Give the chicken a rough shred with your fork, and serve in a bowl, as you would a stew.

The next morning, slice the remaining dumplings, heat with a healthy-sized pat of butter, and douse with cinnamon and sugar.

Sarmen (Pork Cabbage Rolls)

The holidays were hard. Really hard. And the new year feels bittersweet. On one hand, I’m looking forward to putting a painful year behind me. On the other hand, this will be a new year without my dad. 2015. A year that he’ll never see a day of. I’m moving into this new year without resolutions, but with purpose. I want to live fully and love deeply, like he did. Like he would want us to do. I’m going to focus on health and wellness, to get out and move around more. If I've learned anything in the last year, it’s that these bodies are the only ones we have, and they can break. Our bodies can betray us. The worst thing we can do with a working, healthy body is to take it for granted. 

The last few  months I’ve grappled with whether or not I want to continue blogging. My priorities just feel different now. Writing about the joy of a good cookie when my heart is breaking feels fake. But I also don't want this to be a sad place that brings you down with each new post. So, I’m still figuring it out. Figuring out how I want to use this space and the time and effort I put into this blog.

When in Russia...or Mexico

Ok, so I know I said move over cookies, but you should know me well enough by now to know that I didn’t really mean it. And besides, when I said it, I was in a sugar coma from these buttery little balls of heaven and needed a good stiff Brussels sprout to cut the richness of the platter of these I had just consumed (pretty much single handedly).

I know, I know… we’ve all been eating these guys for years. We call them snowballs or Russian teacakes, or Mexican wedding cookies, and moms have been rolling these in powdered sugar and serving them up during the holidays for generations. At least that’s what everyone at Food 52 told me when I posted my recipe for them. But most people probably don’t add cinnamon and fresh ground nutmeg to the buttery-nutty dough, or a heap of orange zest to the powdered sugar coating…which is probably why my spicy-sweet version was an editor’s pick in the holiday cookie contest!

While you folks may have been tucking these decadent butter balls into your holiday stockings for years, my family wasn’t. The closest thing we had to these growing up were Oma’s walnut crescents, which were similar and amazing (my favorite Oma cookie) but different than the typical ball of walnutty dough rolled in powdered sugar. Actually, I didn’t even try one of these goodies until college… and I didn’t call it a snowball or serve it during the holidays or with Russian tea. I called it a Mexican Wedding Cookie, and served it to a room of classmates.

For a Spanish oral presentation, I did a report on the tradition of Mexican Weddings… mainly so that I could try my hand at Mexican Wedding Cookies. It turns out that Mexican weddings aren’t much different than American weddings, and that my Spanish isn’t much better than that of a two year old. Good thing I brought in the cookies, otherwise I probably would have failed the presentation altogether! If only I had a batch of those cookies to save me from my awful Spanish the first time I was in Mexico, the whole ‘Beach-Party Tequila Incident of 2007’ might have been avoided!

So, without further ado, and before you start asking questions about the tequila incident…here’s the recipe! Hurry and make these before Friday, as they’ll surely break all of your New Year’s Resolutions!

Orange Spice Russian-Mexican-Teacake-Wedding-Snowball Cookies
Makes 2 dozen-ish

1 cup butter-softened
1 teaspoon vanilla
6 tablespoons confectioners (powdered) sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
1/3 cup powdered sugar
zest of 1 orange

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and vanilla until smooth. Mix together flour, 6 T sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Stir into butter mixture until just blended (will seem flakey and powdery). Mix in walnuts. Form dough into 1 inch balls and place on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 12 minutes. Transfer to wire cooling rack. Mix together remaining powdered sugar and orange zest. When balls are cool enough to touch (but still warm), roll in powdered sugar, they’ll get a gooey frosting like coating. Once balls have completely cooled, roll once more in powdered sugar. Enjoy with a cup of tea, at a wedding, or during the holidays.

Savory Summer Squash & Tomato Tart

My family is sentimental. We like to hang on to things. I think my dad's parents—my oma and opa—instilled that in him. They came from Europe with nothing. All their keepsakes and things from childhood, pictures, even the country they were from (Yugoslavia): gone. So, I'm sure he grew up with that hang-on-to-everything you have mentality. My mom's parents, on the other hand, were children of the great depression. I remember a story about my grandma Carol's house burning down when she was a girl in Oklahoma, taking all her toys, clothes, and belongings with it. I'm sure that has something to do with my Mel's predilection for keeping things. Then Mel and John left the rural Southern California town they were from to come to Washington, and because of kids and finances and life, they don't make it back there as often as they'd like. I think this makes them sentimental for the places, people, and memories from their past. 

They passed this on to me. Every time I go home, I pour over old pictures, old things from my childhood. I take Evan around the property that he's seen a million times, pointing out spots where I used to play, the tree that I used to think I'd get married under, the place where I killed the spider that Amanda never forgave me for. 

My parents still have a lot of my childhood toys. Barbies in one bin, treasure trolls in another. And books. My RL Stine collection lives on—Fear Street from my middle school days, Goosebumps from elementary school. I had a lot of RL Stine books. And the picture books from when Amanda and I were little. I love looking through the books. 

Whenever I'm thinking of what to make with summer squash, I get a fleeting glimpse of a book from childhood—Squash Pie. So, when I went home last weekend, I dug out the book Squash Pie… to go along with the bounty of zucchini Mel was sending back to Seattle with me. The book (which is from the 70s and was passed down from my cousin Barb…and has Barbie, Room 8, written inside) is about an old farmer who plants summer squash because he's so stoked for squash pie. But every time the squash is just about ready to pick, someone steals it. The book doesn't actually pin it on her, but the farmer's wife is obviously the culprit. The night-thief's shadow is wearing a dress just like hers, and she's always trying to convince him to eat other kinds of pies—apple, cherry, etc—but he only wants squash pie. My favorite part is when she throws a bunch of ripe peaches on the ground, bakes them into a pie, and yells "there's your squash pie!". A real fiery lady, that farmer's wife. Anyway, I think she eventually gets fed up with his squash pie obsession, and they finally have a squash pie…which she admits is way better than all the other pies. Even the last squash pie, which just tasted like a peach pie. 

I always wondered what the squash pie they had tasted like. What it looked like. I was a weird kid that way. So I brought the book back to Seattle with me, and looked up squash pie. Apparently there's a sweet pie made with summer squash—that must be what the farmer was after. I, however, was after something a little different, something savory. Mel's been trying to get me to make this rustic summer squash tart for like five years now (it's one of my dad's faves), but I was never really interested. She photocopies and sends me the recipe every summer, and every summer, it gets deleted. I guess I'm kind of like that farmer's wife, because I finally made the damn squash tart, and whadaya know, it was delicious. I changed it up quite a bit—added caramelized onions and pine nuts, used oregano instead of thyme (simply because I'm out of thyme), omitted the roasted pepper, sprinkled parm on top. 

Even Evan, who claims to hate zucchini and was appalled by the idea of squash pie, loved it. 

PS: I know you're all in fall-mode now: butternut squash and pumpkins and what not, but you surely have a basket of late-summer squash and tomatoes still hanging out, begging to be used before you switch over completely. And this tart, while using up the last of summer's produce, taste a bit like fall with the blue cheese and pie crust. Just make it, already.

Summer Squash & Tomato Tart

Adapted from this recipe

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

1 medium yellow onion, sliced

2 cups-ish sliced (in rounds) mixed summer squash (zucchini, yellow squash, pattypan)

2 shallots, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon(s) chopped garlic

1/4 cup toasted pine nuts

slat & pepper

Your favorite pie crust, chilled and rolled into 2 8-inch rounds

1 cup crumbled blue cheese

2 medium tomatos, sliced

1 large egg, beaten

Handful of parmesan cheese

Heat oven to 400°F. 

Add olive oil and butter to heavy-bottomed skillet, and heat over medium. Add onions and cooked until caramelized (here's a good how-to for caramelized onions). Add squash and shallots and cook, for a few minutes. Remove from heat and stir in oregano, garlic, salt, and pepper to taste.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, and lay out the 2 dough rounds (you may need to bake in two batches, or just make 1 big tart). Sprinkle the blue cheese evenly over the two rounds, within 2 inches of the edge. Top with onion and squash mixture, and then with sliced tomato. Fold edge of the crust over and brush crust with beaten egg.

Bake 35 to 40 minutes until crust is golden. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Let cool slightly before eating (so the juices have time to settle). 

Hot Cereal, Hot Coffee

Cold cereal was crispy, flakey, or puffy, and served with milk. It was this reason, the splash of milk, that I avoided cold cereal (and still do), aside from a handful of clusters popped into my mouth as a crunchy dry snack.

Hot cereal was Cream of Wheat, simmered on the stovetop, and served with a pat of country crock margarine and a shower of granulated white sugar. On weekends, when dad was home for breakfast, our hot cereal was topped with a generous, scalding hot, sugary sweet splash of black coffee. 

Dark Chocolate, Almond Butter, & Coconut Muddy Buddies

So, it’s super sunny outside this week and I have a bowl full of gorgeous meyer lemons I picked off my Oma’s tree in southern California a week ago. All things to point to bright, fresh, springy, lemony. Yet staring at that those lemons, I was racking my brain trying to come up with something to make. Cake, scones, cookies, muffins… I just couldn’t get behind any of that. I thought I was in a slump.
 

But then I realized I’m not in a slump, after all. I’m just craving something totally opposite of what I was trying to make. Chocolate. Coconut. That’s where my head is right now. So, I made muddy buddies. Or puppy chow. You can call it that if you want…but I prefer muddy buddies, because, well...they aren't named after dog food. I also prefer them with almond butter, dark chocolate, coconut, and a sprinkle of sea salt. I mean, c’mon, we’re grownups here. 
 

In college, when I lived in a big house with 5 other girls, we made this treat all the time for late-night study sessions. So, it’s only fitting that I give you muddy buddies on Tasha’s birthday. Tasha lived with me in that big house, is one of my very best friends in the whole world, and is celebrating her birthday far away in her new home—the windy land of Chicago.
 

Sorry lemons… you’ll have your day soon enough.

 

Dark Chocolate, Almond Butter, Coconut Muddy Buddies

 

4 cups Wheat Chex
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips or chunks
1/4 cup crunchy almond butter (unsalted)
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup desiccated coconut
1 teaspoon vanilla  
Pinch of sea salt
3/4 cup powdered sugar

 

Put Chex in a big bowl, and set aside. In a microwave-safe bowl, add chocolate, almond butter, and vanilla, and microwave for 30 seconds, stir, and repeat (in 30 second intervals) until smooth, melty, and creamy. Stir in coconut, vanilla, and sea salt (taste, and add more salt if needed, to your liking). Pour chocolate mixture over Chex, and gently stir until the cereal is all coated. Pour into a big freezer bag, add powdered sugar, (seal) and shake until all the pieces are coated.

The Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap 2012: Waffle Cookies

It’s holiday cookie swap time! This year, I decided to participate in THE BEST COOKIE SWAP EVER: The Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap! How could you not love an event that combines some of the best things ever: baking and eating cookies, supporting a good cause, receiving fun mail, exchanging recipes, and meeting new friends. Here’s how the creators, Lindsay and Julie, describe the swap:

"The Great Food Blogger Cookie Swap brings together food bloggers from around the world in celebration of all things scrumptious. The premise is this: sign up. Receive the addresses of three other food bloggers. Send each of them one dozen delicious homemade cookies. Receive three different boxes of scrumptious cookies from other bloggers. Eat them all yourself (or, you know, share. If you want. No judgement either way.) Post your cookie recipe on your blog. See everyone else’s cookie recipes. Salivate. Get lots of great ideas for next year's cookie swap. Rinse and repeat."

To impress my three lucky matches, I wanted to make a cookie that I love, and that other people may not have tried before. I immediately thought of my mom’s waffle cookies with maple glaze. While my dad was always the baker and sweet tooth in my house (not to mention the waffle fanatic), it was Mel who always made the waffle cookies.

Growing up, Amanda and I were obsessed with waffle cookies. Along with Mel’s smoky salmon dip, Oma’s poppy seed struedel, and whole pomegranates from Grandpa’s tree, waffle cookies were one of those things that the other kids (in rural Washington in the late 80s/early 90s) didn’t have in their lunch box. Imagine the cafeteria trading power we could have had! But alas, we hung on to our waffle cookies for dear life, they were far too delicious to part with!

Mel’s cookies have shortening, but I went with full on butter for a cookie that’s buttery, dense, salty, sweet, and just downright delicious. And top that with sweet maple-cinnamon glaze….need I say more?

Waffle Cookies with Maple Glaze

1.5 cups unsalted butter
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1.5 cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 eggs
4.5 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt

For glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar
4 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla
a pinch of cinnamon

Cream butter, both sugars, and vanilla. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour and salt, and mix into butter mixture until stiff dough is formed. You'll need to chill your dough before cooking, but you have a few options. You can either roll dough into walnut sized balls, spread out on a cookie sheet, and pop in the freezer for 30-60 minutes, or you can roll into logs, freeze for 30-60 minutes, and slice off half-inch thick slices to cook. Cook in a hot waffle iron until golden brown. 

Whisk together glaze ingredients, and drizzle over cooled cookies. 

These hold up really well in shipping, and also stay fresh quite away. To package for shipping, I filled 2 little treat bags with 6 cookie each, and put those side by side in a plastic container filled with tissue paper, which went into a shipping box filled with packing paper. 

Wait, there's more!

Looking for more recipes from the cookie swap? Check out the blogs of my random matches: the gals I sent these bad boys to, as well as the gals who sent cookies to me!

Heed the Feed: http://heedthefeed.com 

Wee Eats: http://wee-eats.com

My Kitchen is Open: mykitchenisopen.com

The Right Recipe: http://therightrecipe.org

a periodic table: http://aperiodictableblog.com

The Hardistys: http://thehardistys.blogspot.com