Tag Archives: lemon

Lemon Crinkle Cookies

I guess the theme of the moment on this blog is lemon–lemon bars, lemon cookies, and an upcoming lemon pasta. There’s just something about the fresh zestiness of lemons that feels so optimistic and spring-like to me. These cookies (click here for the original recipe) have a very delicate lemon flavor–there’s no punch, just a lingering hint of sunshine. So if you’re looking for a knockout wollop of lemon on your tongue you can always increase the quantity of lemon zest. But seriously, they’re lovely exactly as they are.

I love the texture, which is somehow soft and chewy and crisp all at the same time. So when life gives you lemons, please ignore the old saying and make these cookies instead.

Ingredients

1/2 cup butter, softened

1 cup sugar

1/2 tsp vanilla

1 egg

1 tsp lemon zest (triple for more punch)

1 TBS fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 cups flour

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp baking powder

1/8 tsp baking soda

1/3 cup powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 F and grease two light-colored baking trays with butter or cooking spray.

Now dump the butter and granulated sugar into a mixing bowl.

Cream the butter and granulated sugar together until they’re fluffy.

Zest that lemon!

How I love my microplane. It makes zesting a lemon so much less . . . dangerous.

Add the vanilla, the egg, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and whip.

Scrape down the sides of the bowl . . .

. . . and whip again until evenly mixed.

Measure in all the dry ingredients (except for the powdered sugar) . . .

. . . and stir gently until just combined.

It’s much easier to use a spoon or spatula to finish off this part.

Spread the powdered sugar out on a plate.

Roll the dough into little balls the size of a heaping teaspoon, then roll them in the powdered sugar.

I knew I was going to have problems getting all the little spheres to be uniform, so I rolled them all first before sugaring them up. You should end up with about 24 of them.

Place them on the greased baking sheets . . .

. . . and bake for 9-11 minutes until the bottom of the cookies is barely getting golden and the tops have a matte finish (not shiny or glossy). Take the baking sheets out of the oven, and let the cookies sit on the baking sheets for 3 minutes before removing them to a cooling rack. When they first come out, they look kind of poofy and rounded on top.

 As they sit, they will collapse ane get . . .

. . . crinkly!

And that’s why they’re called Lemon Crinkle Cookies.

If you’re totally getting whacked out of shape by the changes in lighting in these pictures, please know that I was happily using my external flash in my almost-always-dark-kitchen, but around 5:30 pm, light briefly floods through our little alley-facing window. It goes away a few minutes later, but I seized the moment and snapped away sans flash.

I should also mention that if you’re using a darker colored baking sheet, the cookies will need about 2 minutes less in the oven.

Here they are innocently sitting on the cooling rack.

Little do they know that I’m about to . . .

CHOMP!

It’s not cruel–I’m helping them fulfill their destiny.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Lemon Crinkle Cookies

Lemon Cream Bars

When I saw this recipe featured on Tasty Kitchen, I immediately decided to make it. I had committed to bringing a treat to a Women’s Ministry event at my church last Friday, and this seemed like a pretty easy little number.

As soon as I started baking it, my husband looked at me happily. “Oooh, you’ve made this before, right? These are those great lemon bars!”

Suddenly, strange half-formed memories started emerging. Had I made these before? After ruminating for days, seeing a hypnotist and a psychotherapist and undergoing memory revitalization at a clinic in Tibet, I have finally reached the conclusion that I simply can’t remember! It’s rare that a cooking memory could turn so foggy–I tend to remember everything I make in mouth-watering detail. However, all I can conjure up regarding these bars is an undefined sense of deja vu.

But why are we wasting time talking about my early onset of memory loss? The point is–this is a VERY easy dessert to whip up. It takes very little time to get into the oven, and the tanginess of the lemon juice and crumbly texture of the streusel combine to make a lovely little treat. Plus, the ingredients are all things I tend to have in the pantry, so if I’m in a dessert bind, I know I can turn to these.

Ingredients

(Makes 20 bars)

1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk

1/2 cup lemon juice (about 2 1/2 lemons)

1 1/2 cups flour

1 cup oats

1 cup brown sugar

2/3 cup butter, melted (10.6 TBS)

1 tsp baking powder

1 pinch salt

First things first: preheat the oven to 350 F and assemble the ingredients.

Now it’s time to squeeze the lemons–fresh lemon juice is always best, especially when it’s such a central flavor in the end product.

I had a papercut under my fingernail, so I enlisted my husband to squeeze them for me.

Thanks, babes.

There wasn’t quite enough lemon juice in 2 lemons, so I broke my own rule about fresh lemon juice and supplemented with this little bottle.

What’s the point of making a rule if you don’t break it yourself 5 seconds after declaring it to the world?

I’m glad you feel the same way.

Next up: mix the lemon juice and condensed milk with a whisk or fork until they’re nicely combined. You can’t tell in this picture, but I spilled about half the mixture on the counter due to the violence of my whipping technique. Then I licked it off the counter and called myself Blessed.

So please use a larger bowl than the one pictured.

Set it aside.

Mix the remaining ingredients to form the streusel.

Gratuitous shot of pouring in the liquid butter:

This stuff is so tasty just as it is. I munched on it as I mixed.

Next time I’ll make a little extra and sprinkle some into my yoghurt.

Press half the streusel into a lightly greased 9×13 inch baking dish, creating an even layer.

If you can remember to save the paper wrappers from the butter you melted earlier, you can use them to grease the pan quite nicely. I (of course) forgot and threw them away, so I resorted to some baking spray.

Pour the lemon/condensed milk mixture over top of the streusel . . .

. . . and spread it out evenly with the back of a spoon.

Sprinkle the rest of the streusel evenly over top.

Bake that baby for 25-30 minutes.

There it is, fresh out of the oven.

Don’t try to taste or cut into now, or you will leave a path of destruction in your wake. Cool the bars completely! Exercise your patience.

The rewards will be worth it.

If you don’t mean to consume the bars immediately, store them in the refrigerator–I should add that they’re good warm, room-temperature, or chilled and straight out of the fridge. Yes, I had them all 3 ways.

I was a little afraid that the crumbly streusel would result in a bar that would completely fall apart upon contact with my human hand.

(As opposed to the robot hand that I keep in the drawer, of course.)

So I was obliged to test my theory.

A couple times.

The bars held up quite well!

Aren’t you glad I’m here to figure these things out in advance for you?

To troubleshoot, so to speak?

So am I.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Lemon Cream Bars