Continuing in our spirit of holiday blogs for the month, I’m offering a copy of my new Christmas anthology, Christmas Wedding Belles, to a randomly selected reader. Yes, my story in this anthology is a Miranda Jarrett historical romance, but be not frightened, ye historical fiction readers of Susan Holloway Scott: the hero and heroine may be invented, but the secondary lovers in this story are the very real Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson and Lady Emma Hamilton, so post away! A winner will be chosen and announced here later this week.
As all we Wenches reminisce about our favorite nostalgic holiday food, I have to offer the all-American Cranberry. Now despite the unending bounty at the local grocery, I’m a firm believer in eating foods in season: strawberries in late May, peaches in August, apples in autumn. And, of course, cranberries for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Cranberries aren’t easy to love, of course, not in the way that other berries are. They’re a gorgeous red,
but raw, they’re hard as pebbles and so tart that they require twice their weight in sugar to make them palatable. I’ve always imagined those first settlers in Massachusetts discovering them with delight, only to pucker up with dismay at first bite.
I suspect that it’s my old Yankee blood that makes them so appealing to me (some weird race-memory at work), or perhaps it’s pleasant memories from late-summer vacations on Cape Cod, when the bogs are being flooded for harvest and the red berries are floated to the service like thousands of cheerful, bobbing red marbles. I know we’re supposed to be talking holly-berries in December, but the larger, rosy-pink cranberries look much more festive to me. Heck, I even invented a fictions cranberry-licious location for one of my earlier books, Cranberry Point.
For history-nerds like us Wenches, cranberries carry a wealth of lore. Yes, they were another food introduced by Native Americans (who mixed them with dried venison and pemmican for a long-lasting food to carry with them on hunting trips) to the Pilgrims, which explains their presence next to Thanksgiving turkeys. Likely the 17th century English settlers were already familiar with the close cousins to cranberries native to Britain: marsh berries, bog berries, and (my favorite name) fen whort.
With the advent of Christmas trees in 19th century American parlors, the long-lasting qualities and bright colors of cranberries made them a ready choice for decorations as well, strung into garlands. If you’d like to try this yourself, here’s a link to directions for a Cranberry Garland with Popcorn, suitable for an outdoor Christmas tree for wild birds as well the indoor variety.
Now cranberries can be found year-round, in many forms from granola bars to cocktails. But for me, they’re a holiday fruit, and with that in mind, I’m sharing a tasty cookie recipe. The cranberries make them look Christmas-y, so they’ll pass as Christmas cookies at the neighborhood cookies-swap, but they taste better than many of the flashier holiday cookies. And because they include cranberries and oatmeal, you can pretend they’re “health” cookies. Hang the butter and white chocolate: these are actually GOOD for you!
One other recommendation: I took a box of these cookies to my agent’s office last fall, where they were devoured instantly by the staff. Gratifying to know that I’ve done my part to keep literary agents in New York safe from scurvy.
White Chocolate Chip Cranberry Oatmeal Cookies
2/3 cup Unsalted Butter, softened
2/3 cup Brown Sugar
2 Large Eggs
1 1/2 cups Old Fashioned Oats
1 1/2 cups Flour
1 teaspoon Baking Soda
1/2 teaspoon Salt
1 Bag of Sweetened Dried Cranberries (6 oz.) (aka Craisins)
2/3 cup White Chocolate Chips
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Using an electric mixer cream butter and brown sugar together in a bowl until light and fluffy. Add eggs and mix well. Combine oats, flour, baking soda and salt in a separate bowl. Add to butter mixture in several additions, mixing well after each addition. Stir in sweetened dried cranberries, chocolate chips and walnuts.
Drop rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.
Makes approximately 3 1/2 dozen cookies
I’ll make it easy to win a book, a simple yay or nay for cranberries. Do you like them –– in relish, juice,
or a shimmering cylinder of jelly, complete with the ribs of the can pressed into the sides –– or do you wish they’d stayed in the bogs? And I’ll also offer you all the happiest of holiday wishes, and the most joyful of book-filled new years!