Cinnamon-Sugar Cookies

Halloween in a pandemic. No trick-or-treating — the neighborhood organized a drive-through candy distribution instead, where kids sit in their car seats and masked adults drop candy into bags through the car window. It is the saddest and most creative adaptation I have seen, and it made Diego cry because he wanted to get out of the car and roar at people (he is a dinosaur again, for the third year running, and his commitment to character is admirable).

Sofia was a chef this year. Not a firefighter, not a soccer player — a chef. She wore the Chef Sofia apron from Roberto, a white chef's hat from the costume store, and carried a wooden spoon. She was the cutest chef in Maricopa County. I am biased. I do not care.

We did our own Halloween at home: a pumpkin-carving contest (Sofia won with a jack-o-lantern that had remarkably detailed teeth; Diego won the participation award for smashing his pumpkin with a toy hammer), caramel apples (homemade — I melted caramels, dipped Granny Smiths, rolled them in crushed peanuts and a drizzle of Mexican chocolate), and a screening of Coco because it is the greatest animated movie ever made and it makes me cry every single time and I am not ashamed.

Coco makes me think about Roberto. About the cinder block grill. About the ofrenda. About what it means to remember someone so completely that they are never really gone. When the grandmother in the movie sings "Remember Me," I look at Sofia and Diego and I think: remember the food. Remember the smoke. Remember the way the chile smells when it hits the grill. Remember the way your grandfather holds his tongs. Remember. Remember. Do not let the fire go out.

After the kids were in bed, I made hot chocolate — the Mexican kind, with cinnamon and cayenne and a dissolved disc of Abuelita chocolate. Jessica and I drank it on the patio, wrapped in blankets, while the last of the trick-or-treaters walked by on the sidewalk in their costumes, small ghosts in the dark. She said, "Next year will be better." I said, "It has to be." She said, "It does not have to be. But it will be." The optimism of this woman. The steel of it.

That cinnamon never really left the kitchen that night—it was in the caramel apples, it was in the Abuelita chocolate dissolving into the milk, and it was in the air long after Jessica and I came inside and the last small ghost had disappeared down the sidewalk. These cinnamon-sugar cookies are the recipe I reach for when I want to hold onto that feeling: simple, warm, the kind of thing you make when the outside world isn’t cooperating and you need to create something good with your own hands. Sofia wore her chef’s hat making a batch of these the following week, and I think Roberto would have approved.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar, divided
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
Cream the butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and 1 1/4 cups of the granulated sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add egg and vanilla. Beat in the egg and vanilla extract until fully incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add the dry mixture to the butter mixture, mixing on low speed until a soft dough forms.
Make the cinnamon sugar. In a small bowl, stir together the remaining 1/4 cup granulated sugar and the ground cinnamon.
Shape and coat. Roll the dough into 1-inch balls. Roll each ball in the cinnamon-sugar mixture until fully coated, then place 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheets.
Bake. Bake for 10—12 minutes, until the edges are just set and the centers look slightly underdone. They will firm up as they cool.
Cool. Let cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cinnamon-Sugar Cookies — The Warmth We Made for Ourselves That Halloween