To me, something which is uniquely and absolutely Christmassy is the food. Sumptuous feasts aside, Christmas is the season of nibbles and canapés and sweet treats and cakelets. It is the season of baubles and trinkets, where no one can judge you on your frankly outrageous overuse of non pareils and what not.
I don’t know whether it is simply because I am a glutton, or because I am from eastern European stock (sometimes I believe the two are more than related) but Christmas to me just isn’t Christmas without baking; filling the besparkled and bejewelled house with spiced clouds of aroma that help defrost even the frostiest of unfestive humbuggers.
I bake pretty much everything in our house when it comes to Christmas. We often buy posh continental biscuits, and the obligatory tin of chocs, and real german pfeffernusse, if we can, but the house (as it should be at this time of year) is well stocked with homemade mince pies, lebkuchen, Christmas cake, brownies, sugar cookies, tarts, chocolates, petit fours, cheese savouries and pretty much any other festive recipe that tickles my fancy.
Money is tight this year, so my ingredients fund is tighter. Therefore, bakes are coming in dribs and drabs, but already my cranberry sauce is stashed in jars in the cold store. In the ’pantry’ cupboard I’ve stored cranberry and homegrown tomato chutney from the summer, and range of homemade spiced jams (perfect for making tarts for those who don’t like mincemeat, or Christmas presents). Last week I gleefully threw together my cranberry mincemeat (a faithful Nigella recipe I simple couldn’t do without) and mince pies (sadly now mostly gone- I make must knock up another batch!). This week I must resist the Christmas cake completely, ready for it be dressed up next week. More immediately I have planned a tart citron (which is rapidly becoming a speciality!) to appease my gluttonous but frosting hating brother, and a cranberry bake well (another Nigella I have discovered) in order to appease my a) adoration for cranberries, however terribly unbritish they may be, b) my love of almonds and c) my chronic, incurable sweet tooth. There is nothing like a festive twist on a traditional, sweet and filling pastry to chase away the winter blues.
However, most pressingly, and most Germanic of me, I must make up my first batch of Lebkuchen!
Though I’ve baked all my life, I’ve really come into baking blossom in the last few years. This also coincided with our local delicatessen no longer stocking traditional german biscuits at Christmas. I once travelled to Colchester and back for some, but really, that’s a little excessive, even for something so delicious as Pfeffernusse. I found, around this time, my Lebkuchen recipe, and I have loved it ever since. There is nothing quite so Christmassy for me as a hot steaming pot of honey and lemon for the mixture, and the joyous burst of spice; ginger, cinnamon, clove, allspice, nutmeg and black pepper, as they fill your lungs and heart, released when the batter is mixed, and more so when baked. Every Christmas Eve I bake a fresh batch of lebkuchen and sit up, watching terrible television, or sometimes more wholesome carols and services, surrounded by the Christmas lights as I ice them, ready for Father Christmas, and then my family, to enjoy.
When I say bake, it means just and only that. Lebkuchen, like many Christmas recipes, needs time refinishing, for the flavour to develop. As delicious as it is, it is not something to be rustled up in a couple of hours, or even really a day. I leave my dough in the fridge to develop for two to three days. The minimum, really, should be 24 hours after mixing, though I suppose a few hours would suffice. Not only does it allow the spices to infuse, but this dough is very wet compared with many biscuits doughs, and the time allows it to firm up at least a little. Also, this dough makes A LOT of lebkuchen! You could easily divide it into three parts, using one after a day and so on.
Lebkuchen
200g honey (I use a lovely local honey, but really any honey will do)
200g muscovado sugar
50g unsalted butter
Juice of a lemon
Zest of one orange and one lemon (if you only have clementines and they are being zest resistant, just squeeze out a little juice with whatever zest you manage to get)
2 free range eggs
550g plain flour
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
2 tsp cinnamon
2-3 tsp ginger (depends how hot you like your ginger biscuits!)
1/2-1 tsp ground black pepper
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4-1/2tsp mixed spice
To decorate:
Royal icing
Silver and gold balls and dragees, non pareils or really whatever you like.
In a large saucepan (large enough to be used as a mixing bowl later in the recipe), combine honey, lemon juice, butter and sugar over a low heat until the butter is melted and the sugar dissolved. This takes about 15 minutes, but stay with it to stir as it goes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool until lukewarm.
Zest the orange and lemon (I hate this part but it’s important for flavour) and whisk into the cooled honey-lemon mixture, along with the eggs.
Stir in all the dry ingredients (flour, bicarb, spices) bit by bit. If you’re fussy you can sieve or whisk the dry ingredients before adding, but I’ve never had a problem just stirring them in.
Spray the inside of a large plastic freezer bag with oil. Frylight is fine for this. Alternatively rub with some oil with your hands. Place the dough in the bag, squeeze out the air as best you can and twist to secure it. Chill in the fridge for as long as you are going to.
When you are ready to bake, preheat oven to 180/170 (which I believe is Gas Mark 4). Line baking sheets with parchment.
Roll out the dough as you like. Traditional lebkuchen are quite thick and puffy and slightly soft. If you like really crisp gingerbread, roll it to about 4-5mm thick. Otherwise, about 8-9mm is good, or you can thicker.
Cut out your desired shapes and place on your sheet. Small (>3cm in diameter) cookies will take only 7 minutes or so, but check at 5. Medium biscuits (around 5cm in diameter) will take 8-9 minutes. Larger biscuits or gingerbread house pieces could take as much at 12 or so. I would check small ones at 5, medium at 7 and large at 9. The desired colour when done is a light gingery golden, though even when browned as the thinner biscuits often get, they are delicious.
Can you tell which corner of my hellfire-powered oven is hottest?
Once cool, you can ice as you like. I either draw outlines or stars at each corner, and top with a dragee or silver/gold ball. On reindeer, however, I give them an eye, and either draw a saddle, or give them a my little pony style bum patch! If you want to use these as Christmas decorations, use a drinking straw to punch a hole prebake, and thread a ribbon through before icing, or once the icing has set (about 12 hours). You may need to reopen the hole a bit with a skewer because they do rise up a bit, but the biscuits are tough enough to take it. You can also make attractive stained glass cookies, or windows for a gingerbread house, by smashing boiled sweets, and placing them in holes cut in the cookies prebake. These melt in the oven and set as the biscuit cools to create a stained glass effect. Very attractive!
A hamper I made up as a gift. You can see the iced lebkuchen at the back. Unfortunately I overlooked taking a picture before I packed them!
Aren't they totally ugly? For serious! But I had so much fun making them!
