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Pumpkin Seed Cranberry Biscotti — The Bake Sale Baker’s Reward

November. The Fitzgerald anniversary approaches. The second one I'll observe alone. But first: the bake sale. November 6, at the Duluth farmers' market. I've been baking for a week. One hundred cinnamon rolls — made in batches of thirty, each batch taking three hours (mixing, kneading, rising, rolling, filling, shaping, rising again, baking). Mamma made her one hundred at Fifth Street, with Erik carrying the pans to the car. Two hundred cinnamon rolls. In the Kenwood house and the Fifth Street house. Two kitchens, two women, one purpose. The church. The sale was Saturday. The morning was cold — thirty-eight degrees, October cold, the kind of cold that makes warm cinnamon rolls a necessity rather than a luxury. I set up the table at seven AM. Mamma's rolls on the left. Mine on the right. The distinction matters to Mamma (she says hers are better; she may be right). The customers don't know the difference. The customers buy. We sold out by ten AM. Two hundred cinnamon rolls, gone. Three hours. Plus limpa bread (twelve loaves), pepparkakor (ten dozen), and the cardamom cake (four of them). Total raised: $3,200. Enough for the furnace and the installation. The church gets a new furnace. The congregation keeps its building. The building keeps its people. Mamma sat at the market in her blue coat with her cane and she watched the rolls sell and she smiled — the small, fierce smile of a woman who has been baking for this church since Kennedy was president and whose rolls sell out in three hours because they're the best cinnamon rolls in Duluth and the best cinnamon rolls in Duluth are baked by a ninety-year-old woman in a kitchen on Fifth Street with hands that have been kneading for seventy-five years. I said, "We did it, Mamma." She said, "Of course we did. We're Johanssons." Of course we did. We're Johanssons. The statement of fact. The identity. The cinnamon rolls and the furnace and the church and the family and the baking and the enduring. We're Johanssons. We bake. We endure. I made a post-sale dinner: simple eggs on toast. The meal of the exhausted baker. The meal of a woman who has baked two hundred cinnamon rolls in a week and whose hands ache and whose kitchen smells like cardamom and whose church will be warm this winter. The church will be warm. That's the thing. The baking made the warmth. The warmth makes the church. The church makes the community. The community makes us. We're Johanssons. Of course we did.

The cinnamon rolls were Mamma’s territory — and mine — but in the days leading up to the sale I always tuck a batch of biscotti alongside everything else, because biscotti travel well, they keep, and they look beautiful fanned out in a cellophane bag with a ribbon. These Pumpkin Seed Cranberry Biscotti have been part of our November baking rotation for years: the cranberries are tart against the sweet dough, the pepitas give a little crunch, and the double bake fills the kitchen with a smell that is almost — almost — as good as the rolls. They sold out Saturday too, quieter than the cinnamon rolls but steady, one bag at a time, which is exactly how biscotti should go.

Pumpkin Seed Cranberry Biscotti

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 24 biscotti

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp fine salt
  • 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 3 large eggs, room temperature
  • 2 tbsp neutral vegetable oil
  • 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
  • 3/4 cup dried cranberries
  • 3/4 cup raw pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat oven to 350°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon until evenly mixed.
  3. Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat eggs with the oil and vanilla until smooth and slightly foamy.
  4. Bring the dough together. Pour the egg mixture into the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon until a stiff dough forms. Fold in the dried cranberries and pumpkin seeds until evenly distributed.
  5. Shape into logs. Turn dough onto the prepared baking sheet and divide into two equal portions. Shape each into a log roughly 12 inches long and 2 inches wide, spacing them at least 3 inches apart. Flatten each log slightly with damp hands.
  6. First bake. Bake 25–27 minutes, until the logs are golden, set at the edges, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven and let cool on the pan for 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 325°F.
  7. Slice. Using a serrated knife, cut each log on a slight diagonal into slices about 3/4 inch thick. Arrange slices cut-side down on the baking sheet in a single layer.
  8. Second bake. Return to the 325°F oven and bake 10 minutes, then flip each biscotti and bake another 10–12 minutes, until dry and lightly golden on both cut sides.
  9. Cool completely. Transfer to a wire rack and cool fully before storing. Biscotti will crisp further as they cool. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to two weeks — or bag them in cellophane with a ribbon and bring them to the sale.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 118 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 72mg

Linda Johansson
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 287 of Linda’s 30-year story · Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.

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