For a girl who, as a rule, doesn't really love biscuits, this weekend was an eye-opener. Yes, you are right in thinking that I bake and ice an awful lot of biscuits for someone who isn't too fond of them. I am an equal opportunity baker though and while I will take a cake or piece of chocolate over a biscuit any day, I am well aware that there are veritable hordes of biscuit lovers out there, for whom nothing else will do. I do love baking them, mind you - biscuit and cookie dough is quick to make and of course, being small means that they bake in no time at all.
You might think that the use of 'biscuit' vs. 'cookie' is simple word-play - and to an extent it is, in that an American would use cookie to describe our biscuits and vice versa - but there is a generally accepted technical difference (not always adhered to). Usually, biscuits are short and crisp (using no raising agent), compared with the softer, chewier texture of a cookie (which uses either baking powder or egg in the recipe). This is why a biscuit dough is often easier to roll and cut into shapes, which hold well during baking. A cookie dough, on the other hand, will usually spread and rise once it hits the heat of the oven - some of the doughs are quite soft and sticky, so you simply drop a ball or scoop of dough onto the baking tray and either press it lightly or just leave it to form its own shape as it bakes. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule and occasions when biscuit and cookie collide, so I'm never too pernickety about which word is used.
Getting back to my biscuity weekend, the cookie in the photo is one the few exceptions to my 'I don't love biscuits' stance. It's a recipe I have been baking for years (now that I think of it, I do believe this was the recipe that eased my coming-out to work colleagues - a box of these chocolate and peanut-butter cookies quickly outed my closet baker). They are really easy to make and a satisfying combination of crispy edge, slightly soft / chewy middle, salty peanut-butter, melting dark chocolate chips and the crunch of roughly chopped peanuts. I would be no friend at all if I didn't share this particular recipe, so I have typed it out below. And before you accuse me of a swift about-turn on my Choc/PB baking ban, these were a treat baked by No.1 Sister and presented with a cup of coffee when I went to visit on Saturday. Frankly, it would have been rude to say no and I am nothing if not a stickler for etiquette. Delicious.
From cookie to biscuit in less than 24 hours - yesterday I made a batch of gingerbread men and camels in preparation for the Christmas run (they now sit happily in the freezer, waiting patiently until it's time to be baked to order). Naturally, I baked a couple of off-cuts to taste-test the batch (one of the terrible trials of a baker's life). Again, delicious. But there was something even better. As an experiment, I decided to do a small, trial batch of chocolate gingerbread biscuits (substituting a small amount of cocoa for flour). I wasn't entirely sure how this would work - Would the cocoa overwhelm the gingerbread? Improve it? Chocolatey enough or just a background note in a regular gingerbread biscuit? No.3 Sister, who adores a ginger biscuit, would tell me not to mess with a good thing. She would see this as Dr Frankenstein making mischief in the lab and creating a monster hybrid - she's not a fan of Evil Chocolate (her words, not mine obviously). But as for me, I just had to give it go. The concept was too fabulous not to try (recipe below if you'd like a go too).
Oh Lord. The smell of Christmas and chocolate wafting from the oven was almost enough to make me swoon. As for the taste - words fail me, but 'Yum!' will do for now. This one is a keeper. It's not just the pairing of two of nature's firm friends - chocolate and ginger. The orange zest in the recipe (another fabulous flavour partner for chocolate) and the warmth of the background spices (cinnamon and a hint of nutmeg and cloves) all join together in happy matrimony with the cocoa and ginger. Whether it's an official polygamous marriage or just a big ol' hippy love-in, this biscuit is here to stay.