Cherry Chocolate Almond Hamentaschen

A bit later than I'd hoped to share this recipe, but I'm thinking you may have many, if not most, of the ingredients in this recipe on hand. Cream cheese. Chocolate chips. Almonds. Maybe some dried cherries, from that last batch of granola. Yeah? If so, a batch of my new favorite hamentaschen is within reach.

This started when I went to make Deb's homemade poppy seed filling. My standard regimen is to make one batch of poppy, one of nutella. This year, the nutella was replaced by Nocciolata, which has less junk and a cleaner, more hazelnuty flavor than nutella. (Full disclosure: the Nociolata folks sent me a sample to try.) But for my third batch, I really wanted something fruity, and for once, I didn't want to use jam.

I thought back to last year's chocolate raspberry hamentaschen, which I absolutely adored. I wanted something similar. But I also kept coming back to this idea of a hamentaschen flavored like rugelach: some nuts, some dried fruit, some chocolate, all folded up into a pastry - the two aren't all that different.

The minute rugelach popped into my mind, I was off to the races. Dried cherries, plenty of chocolate, some ground almonds for texture, a bit of orange zest, and then some brandy, because Purim. Don't forget a cream cheese dough, essential to that rugelach flavor. The result was perfection.

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Can I tell you a couple other things I so love about this recipe? The dough comes together super easily, and you don't even need a food processor. I didn't use one. It rolls out perfectly with just a light sprinkling of flour, and guys, the sides STAY UP. No flat pancake hamentaschen this year. This dough is perfect.

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I'm crowning these my new favorite, just in time for the holiday.

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One year ago: Chocolate Raspberry Hamentaschen asdf Two years ago: Moroccan Chicken with Apricots Three years ago: The original Hamentaschen recipe and the World's Best Almond CakeFour years ago: Gnocchi with Butternut Squash and Shiitake Mushrooms  asldkfh Five years ago: Hummus and Muhammara and Labneh, oh my! Six years ago: Vintage Breakfast Biscuits

Chocolate Cherry Almond Hamentaschen Inspired by a couple favorite rugelach recipes Makes about 50

For the dough: 4 oz. unsalted butter, softened 4 oz. cream cheese 1 cup powdered sugar zest of 1 lemon 2 egg yolks 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon salt

For the filling: 1 cup dried cherries, chopped 1/3 cup brandy (can substitute orange juice, milk, or even water with a squeeze of lemon) 3/4 cup chocolate chips juice and zest of 1 orange 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons almond meal pinch of salt

Make the dough: In a large bowl or the bowl of a food processor, cream butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, and lemon zest until smooth and fluffy. Add the egg yolks and stir vigorously to incorporate. Honest, you don't need a food processor - I used a fork.

Add flour and salt, and stir or pulse until dough starts to come together. Dump dough onto clean work surface and fold it over itself a few times until there are no dry pieces left. Gather dough into two disks, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours. (Dough will keep tightly wrapped in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.)

Make the filling: In a small pot combine chopped cherries, brandy, chocolate chips, and orange juice and zest. Heat on medium for 5-7 minutes, stirring regularly, until chocolate has melted and everything becomes a mostly-smooth mass. Add almond meal and salt; stir to combine. Refrigerate until room temperature or colder.

Make the hamentaschen: Preheat oven to 350° and line two baking sheets with parchment or silpat.

Remove one disk from the refrigerator. Lightly dust a clean work surface with flour, and roll out the dough to slightly thicker than 1/8-inch thick. Use a 2.5-inch cutter to cut disks of dough, and immediately plop the disks onto one of the lined baking sheets. When the work surface is floured, the disks will pop right out when you pull up the cutter. If not, don’t worry – just use a bench scraper or metal spatula to lift the disks and put them onto the baking sheet. Don’t worry about spacing the disks evenly; these hamentaschen don’t need much breathing room, and folded hamentaschen take up much less space than the disks.

Prepare your workstation: bring over your cooled filling and two small spoons, fill a small bowl with water, and get out a pastry brush. Use the pastry brush or your finger to brush a bit of water along the edge of each disk, and then use your thumbs and pointers to fold each disk into a triangle shape (see here for pictures).

Bake cookies for 10-15 minutes, until tops are slightly golden. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes before transferring. Meanwhile, fill your second sheet with cookies. By the time round 2 is ready to bake, round 1 will be cool enough to transfer, and that baking sheet will be free for batch 3.

Hamentaschen will keep in an airtight container for at least a week, probably more. They also freeze very well.

Salted Chocolate Rye Cookies

Valentine's Day always seemed a bit unfair. Why must we relegate sweet nothings and romantic dates - let alone heart candies and chocolate - to one day of the year? I love love, but I also love chocolate. I want both all year round.

However. When a day hands you an excuse to make something rich and chocolatey, and then give it out indiscriminately - and eat more of it than you care to admit - in the name of a holiday, you say okay and you do it. So, friends: in honor of Valentine's Day, I made you these salted chocolate rye cookies. I'm feeling confident you'll agree to be my valentines, seeing as all the chocolate is on this side of the table. C'mon over.

Would you believe there isn't a pinch of white flour in these cookies? They came out so rich that in retrospect, I see why the rye is there; not so much to offer its nutty flavor (though it does, albeit subtly), but to offset the fudgy texture and serious chocolate flavor in the cookies. These are serious chocolate-lovers' cookies. Those who feel mildly about chocolate need not apply.

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Happy day of love and chocolate to all of you. Now let's go enjoy the snow.

Salted Chocolate Rye CookiesAdapted slightly from Tartine Book #3 Makes 24 cookies

In response to a question below, I think you could make tiny cookies with 1 tablespoon of dough each, but you should decrease the baking time. Probably 7-8 minutes would do it.

3/4 cup whole-grain dark rye flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt 14 ounces dark chocolate (I used 72%), finely chopped 4 tablespoons. unsalted butter, cut into pieces 4 large eggs, at room temperature 1 1/2 cups light brown sugar 1 tablespoon vanilla extract Maldon salt or fleur de sel, for sprinkling

In a small bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder and salt.

Place chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water – keep , stirring until just melted and combined. Remove bowl from pan; set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with whisk attachment, whip eggs on medium speed until fluffy. Keep the mixer on low and slowly add sugar. Once all the sugar is added, increase speed to medium-high and keep beating until eggs have nearly tripled in volume, about 6 minutes. Add reserved chocolate mixture and the vanilla; mix until combined. Again, with mixer on low, slowly add dry ingredients until a soft, loose dough forms. Cover dough with plastic wrap; chill 30 minutes.

Heat oven to 350°. Using 2 tablespoons for each, drop cookies onto parchment paper-lined baking sheets, spaced about 2” apart. Sprinkle cookies with Maldon salt or fleur de sel. Bake until cookies are puffed, 8-10 minutes, 10-12 if refrigerated for longer than 30 minutes. (Rotate pans halfway through the baking time). Let rest on baking sheet for at least 10 minutes before transferring to a serving platter.

Bite-Sized Fig and Olive Cookies

Somewhat embarrassingly, D and I have a knack for "discovering" places that, quite definitively, have already been discovered. Take, for instance, our trip to Tuscany back in 2007. After roaming the streets of Florence for 45 minutes or so in search of a spot to sit and eat, we happened upon a dimly lit trattoria with a vegetarian pasta sampler on the menu that caught our eye. Five bite-sized courses and a bottle of house wine later, we were a bit slicked, a bit stuffed, and very happy. We ordered lots of dessert, ate it all, and promised ourselves we'd go back again before leaving. We went back the next night; we ate exactly the same thing. What a find! We fancied ourselves adventurers. Then, in 2010, a friend shared his plans to head to Tuscany and asked for recommendations. We couldn't heap enough praise on that little trattoria we'd found. It's so authentically Tuscan! I gushed. You can't find anything like it in the States. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught another friend of ours smirking. Have you been? I asked. Yep, he had. And he'd loved it so much that he'd invested in the chef, who had since opened outposts in San Francisco...and Washington DC. My little hole-in-the-wall was not only a global brand, it had a branch in my backyard. That'd be Acqua al 2, on Capitol Hill. Oops.

Then there was our first trip to Paris. Roaming around one Sunday morning, we stopped for brunch in an adorable little cafe. Over great bread, dips, spreads, and quantities of jam bordering on obscene, I marveled at our luck; we'd thought we were in a bit of a dead zone, food-wise, and I'd started to give up hope of my last breakfast in Paris being anything special. Then we found this place, and all was right with the world. Especially the spreads. I even bought a jar of their jam, and thought I might cry when the rather unsympathetic French airport official insisted that I leave it behind, since I'd forgotten to tuck it into my checked luggage. What would I do if I couldn't slather that jam on my morning toast back in America? Would I have to wait for my next trip to Paris to eat such a delicious breakfast? I was both smitten and sad. That is, until I discovered that this "local cafe" had exploded all over the world, including in my neighborhood (yet again), and made all its jams and spreads with all sorts of crap that isn't fruit or sugar. Yeah, it's Le Pain Quotidien. I'm a joke.

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Fortunately, on our second trip to Paris, I was more cautious. I did research. Armed with stacks of print-outs from Chowhound and David Lebovitz and Clotilde, I managed to avoid Paris's version of big-box stores (hello, Paul) and found spots with heirloom recipes, old-school methods, and one-of-a-kind offerings. We ate epoisses and even mimolette. I tasted every honey Maison du Miel sells. And of course, because we were tourists and we could, we made the great pilgrimage to Poilâne.

Poilâne is definitely the most famous boulangerie in Paris, and surely one of its best. If I lived in a city with an abundance of good bread (I'm thinking San Fran, New York, Paris; what others would you put on this list?), I'd find the best bakery in my neighborhood and that's where I'd buy bread. I can't imagine most Parisians schlep to rue du Cherche-Midi just to get a Poilâne loaf. But if I visit a city with an abundance of good bread, you better believe I'm going to find the best loaf, and schlep as far as I need to schlep to get it. In Paris, that place is Poilâne. That loaf is the miche, a plain sourdough with plenty of whole grain flour and baked in a wood-fired oven. Blessedly, they have no outposts in the US. Poilâne is as French as it gets, and though I wish I could eat Poilâne bread every day, it's satisfying that we spent some of our time in Paris eating things we can't eat back home.

Bread is what made Poilâne famous, but it isn't the only thing they sell. Off to the side, on a tall, skinny shelf, I found a small stack of boxes containing the other super-famous Poilâne product: Punitions,® or "punishment cookies," tiny sablé cookies with scalloped edges in slightly varying shades of pale tan. The cookies contain butter, sugar, flour, and egg. That's all. They are perfect: sturdy enough that they don't shatter when you bite into them, but still delicate and very buttery. Quite a punishment, indeed.

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Dorie Greenspan tracked down the recipe for the unassuming little cookies (of course she did), and I followed the recipe to a tee, for once. My cookies came out plain and perfect; very French. But we Americans are contradictions as beguiling as "punishment cookies:" we are Francophiles through and through, and yet, we insist on tinkering with perfectly simple French recipes. And so it was that I made one batch of plain cookies, then used the other half of the dough as a base for chopped dried figs and oil-cured black olives and a little orange zest.

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Hear me out on the olive thing: these aren't the wow-these-are-so-olive-y shortbread (which I love, by the way). In these little cookies, olive plays a supporting role. The fig and olive and orange (or lemon, if you prefer) give the cookies sweet and savory flavor, but you can't quite put your finger on any of the three. Try them, maybe.

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The platter on the center of our table has held a dwindling pile of these guys for the past several days. As of Tuesday, they were gone. It's going to be quiet around here for the next little while, as we take some desperately-needed time away. But don't worry: I'll be filling up that platter with plenty more deliciousness this new year. Stay tuned, friends.

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Bite-Sized Fig and Olive Cookiesbasic recipe adapted from Poilâne, via Dorie Greenspan

Makes about 50 cookies, fewer if you use a larger cutter (as I did for half of this batch)

Whereas typical sugar cookies are made using a mixer, these are made in a food processor, ensuring a smooth yet sandy texture.

If you decide to make these cookies the traditional way, without additions, reduce the cooking time to 8-10 minutes. The moisture in the olives and figs necessitates a longer bake.

1 1/4 sticks (5 ounces; 140 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature Slightly rounded 1/2 cup (125 grams) sugar 1 large egg, at room temperature 2 cups (280 grams) all-purpose flour 1/4 cup chopped oil-cured black olives (pitted, of course) 1/3 cup chopped dried figs 1 teaspoon orange or lemon zest

Put butter into the bowl of a food processor and process, scraping down the sides of the bowl on occasion, until butter is smooth. Add sugar and process again, scraping down the sides of the bowl, until butter and sugar are combined. Add egg and continue processing until mixture is smooth and satiny. Add the flour all at once, and pulse 10 times. Then add olive, fig, and zest, and pulse 5 more times, until dough forms clumps and crumbs.

Turn the dough out onto a work surface and gather it into a ball. Divide the ball in half, shape each half into a disk, and wrap the disks in plastic. If you can afford the time, chill dough completely, up to 4 hours. If you're in more of a hurry, chill the dough 1 hour before rolling. Dorie says you can roll them out immediately, but I found the dough too sticky to handle effectively. (The dough can be wrapped airtight and refrigerated for up to 4 days or frozen for up to 1 month.)

Position the racks to divide the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Working with one disk at a time, roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface until it is between 1/8 and 1/4 inch (4 and 7 mm) thick. Using a 1 1/2 -inch (4-cm) round cookie cutter, cut out as many cookies as you can and place them on the lined sheets, leaving about 1 inch (2.5 cm) space between them. (You can gather the scraps into a disk and chill them, then roll, cut and bake them later.)

Bake the cookies for 10-12 minutes, or until they are set but still pale. (If some of the cookies are thinner than others, the thin ones may brown around the edges. M. Poilane would approve. He'd tell you the spots of color here and there show they are made by hand. I've heard that le French foodies prefer the darker ones, and I do, too; they taste toasty and caramelized.) Transfer the cookies to cooling racks to cool to room temperature.

The cookies can be stored in a tin at room temperature for about 5 days or wrapped airtight and frozen for up to 1 month.

Chocolate-Crusted Banana Blondies

Back in April, the wonderful Melissa Clark tried to make brownies into a vehicle for her ready-to-go bananas. After 6 failed batches, she couldn't get the results to taste chocolaty enough. Sometimes, a brownie just wants to be a brownie.

So she kept the chocolate for the bottom, and folded her mushy bananas into rum-scented blondies. Brilliant, I say.

Let's break it down: we've got a crumbly, crunchy chocolate cookie crust (ground chocolate cookies and butter - nothing bad there). Poured overtop is a batter that's the beautiful lovechild of blondies and brown-butter banana bread. Come again? Blondies, and brown-butter banana bread. You can imagine why I had no choice but to make these.

Here's the truth about something as intensely rich as these blondies: not everyone found them irresistible. D, in particular, thought they were too much of a good thing. Or too many different good things. Or something. I say, bupkis. They're a total winner in my book.

A person can only eat so much banana bread. Banana pancakes are a great alternative, but you know what? Sometimes you gotta treat yourself. That's what these are for.

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Chocolate-Crusted Banana BlondiesAdapted slightly from Melissa Clark at the New York Times

A glutton for excess, I swapped the walnuts out for chocolate chips. Yea, I did.

2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter (1 1/4 cups), plus more for greasing pan 3 cups of chocolate wafer cookie crumbs (from about 200 grams chocolate wafer cookies) 1/4 cup light brown sugar (about 55 grams) 1/2 teaspoon plus a pinch fine sea salt 2 ripe bananas, mashed 2 large eggs 2 1/2 cups dark brown sugar (about 455 grams) 2 tablespoons dark rum or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup all-purpose flour (about 130 grams) 1/2 cup toasted walnuts, chopped (about 80 grams) Flaky sea salt, for sprinkling (optional)

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Line a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with parchment, and grease with butter.

Melt 1 stick of butter in a saucepan over low heat or in microwave. Put the chocolate wafer cookies in the bowl of a food processor and process to make fine crumbs. Add the light brown sugar, melted butter and a pinch of salt. Process until the mixture is the consistency of damp sand. Dump the mixture into the pan and press it into an even layer. Bake for 7 to 10 minutes, or until the surface is firm. Remove the pan and set aside.

Reduce oven heat to 350 degrees.

In a large skillet over medium heat, melt 12 tablespoons butter, then let it cook until the foam subsides and butter turns a deep nut brown, about 5 minutes. Cool.

In a large bowl, whisk together bananas, eggs, dark brown sugar and rum. Whisk in brown butter. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour and fine salt. Fold into batter along with the toasted walnuts. Pour the mixture over the prepared crust and spread evenly. Sprinkle top with flaky salt if using.

Transfer pan to oven and bake until the top is firm and a toothpick inserted in the center emerges with a few crumbs attached (or clean) but not wet, 45 to 55 minutes. Cool completely on a wire rack; cut into 24 bars.