On the occasion of my 38th birthday, I give you these Hazelnut Christmas Trees. My mother, who also (jointly) created me, first brought these cookies to life on Christmas Eve, 1986--and, at the time, they seemed nothing less than emblematic of femininity's intrinsic richness and mystery. That she could create something so beautiful, so nuanced, so simultaneously manifest and elusive... I was, and have remained, in awe.

Recreating them now was equal parts fun, meditative, and humbling. As with everything I've attempted for this blog, the process was not without its foibles. But, if I could share these cookies with you in the end, it was worth everything that came before.

So happy birthday to me and my birthday twin, Frank Sinatra. Bake these cookies, put "The Lady is a Tramp" on repeat, and come into my world. I've included the full recipe at the end of this post, as my handful of readers have informed me that they would prefer all instructions, grouped with minimal commentary, in one place. See? I care.

The Process
Fittingly, we start with nuts. Hazelnuts are my choice, though almonds and walnuts are also great, and would suffice.

I used a bag of whole, unshelled, raw hazelnuts and roasted them for 20 minutes at 275 degrees. Then I realized I had to crack them. Every single one of them. And I don't have a nutcracker--except this guy.

This time-consuming process had hazelnut projectiles ricocheting around my kitchen, the flak from each of which I had to hunt down and add to my bowl of shelled hazelnuts, because I needed every last morsel. I felt like an actual pioneer woman--though not the Pioneer Woman, who clearly has more sense than to shell a bag of hazelnuts with a toy nutcracker.

Two hours later, I reached this stage.

You could always elect to buy a bag of shelled, roasted hazelnuts, but what fun would that be? Your kitchen won't smell like Christmas, and your nutcracker will lack a sense of purpose. Regardless, you will now transfer to the food processor and pulverize. So satisfying. Then, whisk the hazelnuts in with the dry ingredients and set aside. At this point no one knows how you arrived at your hazelnuts. Tell people you personally roasted them, if you want. It's the perfect crime.

Separately, get out your stand mixer with the paddle attachment and beat the butter and sugar, then add your egg mixture. Now, ever so slowly, integrate the dry ingredients until they barely disappear into the dough. You do not want to overwork this dough, or it gets tough. Play hard to get with it and it'll fall right into your hands.

Divide the dough in half and roll each half out between sheets of wax paper, to about a quarter of an inch thick. I had no problem with this step; nothing like the debacle of my homemade oreos. Which is to say, this dough never made me cry.

You will now transfer the dough to a cookie sheet or cutting board--or the unconventional choice of a Pottery Barn Kids placemat, like me--and chill for two hours in the refrigerator, or 45 minutes in the freezer. I chose the freezer option, out of an appreciation for the shortness of life.

Dough x Christmasy family room x indestructible birthday balloons in the background.

After your dough is sufficiently chill, it's time to roll it out. Use two sheets of wax paper, your favorite Christmas-tree cookie cutter, and a light touch.

Kindly ignore the deconstructed dragon body, which is not relevant here.

For half the cookies, you will want to make little cutouts to serve as the windows into your jammy filling--i.e., the "ornaments" on your trees. This step requires considerable delicacy and patience, neither of which are hallmarks of my character--so practicing these traits was a surprising opportunity for more personal growth. Am I becoming a better person through baking? The Comments section is open.

♪ ♫ ♬ "Wie treu sind deine blätter..." ♪ ♫ ♬ — ♪ ♫ ♬ "Wie treu sind deine blätter..." ♪ ♫ ♬

At any rate, here is the procedure I followed for making the cutouts: cut out the cold dough into Christmas trees and set on the cookie sheet. When the dough is softer and more malleable--about as long as it takes to scroll across an infuriating political story on your News feed--use an offset spatula to lift each cookie into the palm of your hand. With your other hand, using the pointy end of a meat thermometer or a straw, carefully poke a series of holes. Some cookies may be maimed in this process, so you'll just have to re-roll those and try again. But the people who get anywhere in life don't quit at the third setback, and neither will you.

This is a good time to let your loved ones taste-test the as-yet unadorned cookies. If they like them at this stage, before the addition of the raspberry jam, then you know you have a winner. And here I was completely floored by my child, who has made a professional sport out of shocking me: he loved them. He devoured their spice and subtlty, and didn't mind--perhaps even savored--their scant sweetness and deep, nutty palate. So I was coming into the finish feeling strong.

Now you're going to bring it all together. Choose a delicious and delightful raspberry jam--or preserves, which are also made from whole fruit; just no jelly, which derives from fruit juice, so it's a derivative of a derivative, the VXX of ingredients, not to be messed with. For jam-selecting guidance, I suggest choosing one of the more expensive ones--but then that's exactly the kind of suggestion you'll come to expect from me. And now armed with your delightful jam, you'll combine a half cup with a teaspoon of water and bring to a boil on low heat. Let it cool slightly, then ladle a teaspoon of jam onto a solid cookie and top with a cut-out cookie.

Beautifully imperfect, the cookies await one final touch: a dusting of confectioner's sugar.

I can't imagine a better birthday gift to share with you. All this love. I hope you savor every bite.

"May you live to be 100 and may the last voice you hear be mine."- F. Sinatra & L. Esposito — "May you live to be 100 and may the last voice you hear be mine."
- F. Sinatra & L. Esposito

The Recipe

Hazelnut Linzer Christmas Trees (based on Linzer Sablés by Dorie Greenspan)

1 1/2 cups finely ground hazelnuts (or almonds or walnuts)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
scant 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 large egg
2 teaspoons water
1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup raspberry jam plus 1 teaspoon water

Roast hazelnuts at 275 degrees for 20 minutes. Remove from shells, grind in food processor, and whisk together with flour, cinnamon, salt, and cloves. Separately, using a fork, stir the egg and water together in a small bowl.

Working with a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar together at medium speed until smooth, about 3 minutes, scraping down as needed. Add the egg mixture and beat for additional minute. Reduce the speed to low and add the dry ingredients, mixing only until they disappear into the dough. Don’t work the dough too much once the flour is incorporated. If the dough comes together but some dry crumbs remain in the bottom of the bowl, stop the mixer and finish blending the ingredients with a rubber spatula or your hands.

Divide the dough in half. Working with one half at a time, put the dough between two large sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap. Using your hands, flatten the dough into a disk, then roll out the dough with a rolling pin, turning it over frequently so that the paper doesn’t cut into it, until it is about 1/4-inch thick. Leave the dough in the paper and repeat with the second piece of dough. Transfer the wrapped dough to a baking sheet, cutting board, or Pottery Barn Kids placemat (ahem) and refrigerate or freeze it until it is very firm, about 2 hours in the refrigerator or 45 minutes in the freezer. The rolled-out dough can be wrapped airtight and stored in the refrigerator for up to three days or the freezer for up to two months.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375° F. Line two baking sheets with parchment or silpats. Now peel off the top sheet of waxed paper from one piece of dough and, using a Christmas-tree cookie cutter, cut out cookies. For half the cookies, first cut out the cookie shape itself, then lift the cookie using an offset spatula and poke holes in the cookies with a straw or the sharp end of a meat thermometer. Bake cookies one sheet at a time for 11 to 13 minutes, watching the color and texture of the cookies as they go. I started by baking cookies for 11 minutes at 375, but, by the last sheet, I reduced the temperature to 365 and baked for only 10 minutes. They will be a light golden-brown color when done. Make sure to cool the baking sheets between batches.

Transfer the cookies to a rack to cool to room temperature.

For the filling: place the jam in a small saucepan and stir in the one teaspoon water. Bring to a boil over low heat. Let the jam cool slightly, then turn the solid cookies bottom side up and place about 1/2 teaspoon jam in the center of each cookie; sandwich with the cut-out cookies.

Just before serving, dust with confectioner’s sugar.

Makes about 14-16 sandwich cookies.