When I married my husband, I knew I was also marrying into generations' worth of family holiday traditions. In fact, I think it was written in the marriage contract, squeezed right between not touching his BBQ grill and promising to love him even when he's 80 years old and I still look 35. Our first Christmas together was a little stressful, but I kept notes of all the little things I needed to remember — like what kind of candles to buy for the German pyramids (skinny, small), the placement of hand-blown glass ornaments on the tree (big ones on bottom) and what kind of cookies are served X-mas morning (shortbread).
When both kids were too young to understand the holidays, I winged my way through it. I mean, would they really remember that I spaced out on their chocolate advent calendar the first two weeks of December? Or that I ate all the chocolate for them because pediatric dental visits are expensive?
Last year though, both kids were of speaking age, meaning they could now rat me out if I forgot something or did something wrong. There's nothing more embarrassing than a 2-year-old shrieking to Grandma, "SANTA DOESN'T LIKE US!"
On Christmas Eve, Grandma helped the kids, decked out in their flannel jammies, set out a bowl of mini corns-on-the-cob for the reindeer, as well as a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa. A perfect little treat from perfect little kids.
After they went to bed, the family elves scurried to the living room to set up the train set while I stayed in the kitchen to clean. As OCD as I am about tying up the end of the bread bag after taking a slice, I am even more neurotic about food left on the counter. Bare, exposed food is unable to defend itself against germs, bacteria and late-night infomercials about men with small pee-pees.
Come the big morning, the kids ran straight to the kitchen counter. They didn't see anything, so they opened the trashcan to look for crumbs. Sitting right on top of the pile were uneaten cookies and untouched corn.
Shit. There goes another $10K in future therapy bills.
This season, I'm prepared. I got a pack of Post-its to remind myself what I need to do, including my midnight snack of gnawing corn, chomping cookies and gulping milk. Yesterday, my husband gently reminded me that I really should remember to leave some crumbs on the plate, as Santa's mittens are quite bulky, so most likely he'd be a messy eater. To which I replied, "Well, can't I leave antibacterial wipes and the Shark-Vac next to the plate so he can tidy up?"
Santa's Shortbread Cookies
To be served for breakfast on Christmas morning. Makes 16 wedges.
1/2 cup butter, at room temp
1/3 cup powdered sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla
1 cup flour, unsifted
Cream butter with mixer on high until light yellow. Turn speed to low, and add in powdered sugar. When mixed, turn speed to high and add vanilla. Turn back to low speed and add flour, 1/3 cup a time until crumbly. Use hands to gather dough together. Knead dough on a lightly floured counter until nice and smooth.
If using a shortbread pan: spray lightly with nonstick spray, firmly press dough into pan. If using a heavy baking sheet: turn baking sheet over, spray back of sheet with nonstick spray. With floured rolling pin, roll into a circle 1/2-inch thick and 8-inches wide directly on baking sheet. Use hands to nudge into round shape with smooth edges. You may find it easier to wrap and refrigerate dough for 20 minutes before rolling.
Prick surface with fork. Bake 325 degrees for 30-35 minutes until lightly browned. Cool on pan for 10 minutes, loosen edges with knife. If using a shortbread pan, flip pan over onto rack. If using baking sheet, carefully slide cookie onto rack. Cut into wedges while warm so it doesn't crack.
Jaden Hair blogs at steamykitchen.com.
This article appears in Dec 12-18, 2007.