The Minnesota Farm Woman

I come from a long line of Christmas bakers. My mom always made several types of cookies, including the traditional Scandinavian sandbakkel, krumkake, and beautiful crispy rosettes, dusted with powdered sugar. They would melt in your mouth. My grandma made Finnish prune tarts, with the dough folded to look like stars, and stored them in brightly decorated Christmas tins. These were always served with fresh coffee, almost strong enough to stand a spoon upright in the cup. Since milk is much healthier for children, we got our coffee served half and half with milk, with a couple of spoons of sugar stirred in for good measure. Dad was more of an eater than a baker, and was one of the 10 people in the state who actually liked fruitcake. I used to start my baking early in December, making at least four types of cookies and two types of fudge. Everyone’s favorite were the rolled-out sugar cookies, cut into shapes and decorated with colored sugar or frosting. Those, by the way, were my least favorite because they were so much harder to make and I have no patience when it comes to rolling out and decorating cookies. Pans of peanut butter and chocolate fudge were made and shared with neighbors, who in return shared plates of their own sweet treats. Times have changed, though. I don’t think I’ve done any Christmas baking in the last few years. The dietary needs and habits in our family have changed tremendously. Some of us are grain and gluten-free, some are low carb ketogenic, some are sugar-free, and some are all of the above. Except HIM. He rolls his eyes at the rest of us and looks around hopefully for cookies, and sadly, there are none. You’ve got to feel just a little bit sorry for the poor guy. Here we are in the season of peace on earth and good gingerbread men, and there are no Christmas goodies in the house. I have seen several recipes for sugar-free-low-carb-gluten-free-ketogenic cookies, but I’m afraid that they will taste exactly like they sound. So, in the true Christmas spirit, I will toss my stale flour to the chickens, buy fresh, and make a batch of something sweet to leave on the table for that jolly old man…and for HIM. You don’t think Santa Claus has gone gluten-free, do you?