After I posted my painting of The Grackle who Sang the World Awake on Facebook, I was asked to tell the story of how that painting came to be. So, here it is:

When I was in Costa Rica I met a bird who sang the sounds of the world to me.  I was on a trip loaded with birders who came equipped with special cameras, binoculars, books, and meticulous lists of birds. Costa Rica is a birder’s paradise because of its multiple ecosystems in a relatively small space: mangrove swamps, Caribbean coastal plains, the Pacific Ocean, the rainforest, cloud forests, the mountains.  Each niche is populated by unique birds, over 850 species in a country the size of West Virginia, more than the U.S. and Canada.

Our birders were in heaven, seeing over a 100 different species in a few hours and compiling pages of new birds, capturing images of flitting, flying, diving, sleeping creatures with crescents, dots, splotches, amazing beaks and wings.   And yes they saw the elusive Quetzal whose feathers are so brilliantly spectacular, so iridescent that if eye shadow and nail polish could be created those shimmering colors they would be best sellers and we rather drab humans would give birds some competition. The birders, including our leader, were mostly male, carrying cameras with telephoto lenses adding at least six inches to the camera.

I was a complete failure at this. Well, not complete. I was able to see   Macaws, toucans, flycatchers, banaquits, tanagers and hundreds of hummingbirds sipping nectar from birdfeeders, but I also see them at home, in fact right now a gorgeous green one is at my feeder.  I was terrific at taking photos of sloths who moved only an inch an hour, hanging from their claws overhead with their faces like fuzzy babies. The only Quetzal I saw was stuffed in a museum, but of course I snapped his picture so I could remember his colors, long swooping tail, and the strange look of his small head, beady eyes, and tiny sharp beak stuck on top of his long, graceful body.

One afternoon, I sat on the porch of my room, and tried to capture the turquoise sea and cerulean sky of the Pacific with watercolor.  I heard a melody, which sounded like an aria from an opera and thought someone was playing the radio. A few minutes later, there was a siren, then a howler monkey.  I looked around, couldn’t spot a monkey, but saw a large bird sitting right above me on a branch. He was black with iridescent purple and indigo feathers, backlit by the setting sun.  I painted while he serenaded. With a startling gold eye against his blue black feathers, open beak, he sang, not just a repetitive melody and trills like most birds do, but whistles and thrills and screeches, and sweet melodies, too. He gloried in the abrasive sounds of the forest as well as the city. Clutching the branch with great claws, he crooned away to me and the setting sun, while I happily painted.

Now this was a bird to be excited about, amazing in his noises and variety.

At dinner that night, I told the birders about him and asked what he was. They were nonplussed as he was simply a common Great-tailed Grackle living across much of the southern and western U.S. as well as all of Central America.  Widespread, frequent, and ordinary.  Not spectacularly beautiful or rare.   Yes, I understand the fascination with seeing the spectacular and wondrous assortment that evolution has wrought in bird species.  And yes, I understand the fact that the birders, mostly men, were following their own evolutionary imperatives as they relentlessly hunted, shot the bird with a long pointed camera and brought it home to be added to a list.

“But his song is amazing, this was a talented and creative bird, able to make a huge range of sounds, all the sounds of the world and he was so happy doing it.” I bragged about his incredible talent.  “He isn’t just pretty and rare, he says something,” I exclaimed.  “Looks only last, what, maybe five minutes. It’s what is said that’s important.”

The women got my point and chuckled.

The men resumed their tasks, eating or working on bird lists.

When I came home, I tried to capture, to relive once again the magic of the Grackle’s serenade as he played the sounds of the world to me.  And painted some of the world he sang.

And that’s the story of the painting, THE GRACKLE WHO SANG THE WORLD AWAKE.

The painting is 3 feet by 4 feet. Here are some details of the painting so you can see some of what the grackle sang:

PEPPERNUTS
The original recipe belonged to Corinne Young, wife of Harry L. Young. It appeared in the Ellis Nebraska Church cookbook of the early 1940’s. Corinne was my great-aunt and other than my own mother, was the strongest female influence on my life. My family has made these tiny hard spicy cookies for generations. Do NOT try to bite and chew these little guys. They are meant to be held in your mouth until the flavors melt into your tongue, releasing the incredible spices, a sense of warmth, and to my family, love.

1 cup brown sugar
3 cups white sugar
2 cups lard
1 cup water
2 cups dark syrup
3/4 tsp each:
cinnamon
cloves
nutmeg
allspice
ginger
1 1/2 tsp cardamom
1 tablespoon anise powder OR 2 tsp anise extract
1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
3/4 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp salt

Flour to make very stiff dough (could take a total of 10-12 cups)

Boil sugars, lard, syrup, and water until dissolved. Let cool.

If using Anise extract, blend with liquids

Combine all seasonings; blend with four cups of flour. Stir into cooled liquids. Keep adding more flour until dough is very stiff. This takes a sticky arm or very gooey hands.

You can store the dough in tightly covered containers in the refrigerator, baking small amounts at a time.

Form dough into long snakes. Lay ten or twelve “snakes” side by side on a cutting board. Cut across the snakes every 1/2 inch, making multitudes of 1/2 inch pieces. Place each piece separately on baking sheet, 1/2 inch apart. Bake at 350 degrees until golden brown and set, about 8-12 minutes. Be careful not to overbake, they burn quickly!

Loosen baked pieces as soon as they come from the oven and place on cloth covered surface to cool. Store baked peppernuts in cookie tins or other tightly covered containers. Will keep as long as they last.

This makes a huge amount, though it is one fourth of the original recipe. The original was made in a washtub!

Can’t wait to make this! Thanks, Diane

Zingerman’s Bakehouse’s addition to the cookie party! We’re so pleased to be working with Ann and to have created a really delicious box of cookies to go along with the book. You’ll also find this cookie on a recipe card inside the box. Enjoy!

Zingerman’s Bakehouse Chocolate MInt Shortbread Cookies
Ingredients:
1 c. butter
2/3 c. sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. Boyajian mint flavoring*
2 1/4 c. all purpose flour
1 c. semi-sweet chocolate

Preheat the oven to 350
Mixing Method
1. In a mixing bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light
and fluffy. Beat in the egg, salt, and mint flavoring and mix well.
2. On low speed, stir the flour into creamed mixture and blend well.
3. Divide the dough into equal walnut sized pieces.
4. Round each piece and then flatten onto parchment paper-lined
sheet pans 1-inch apart.
5. Bake for 6 to 8 minutes or until the edges are lightly browned.
6. Remove to a cooling rack and cool completely.
7. To finish the cookie. Melt the chocolate in a small bowl. Dip 1/2
of the cookie in the melted chocolate, shaking off the excess
chocolate and place onto parchment paper to set up and dry.
Dry the chocolate completely before stacking cookies.
8. Store in an airtight container.

*You can find Boyajian mint oil at Zingerman\’s Bakehouse or www.boyajianinc.com

Ari Weinzweig Recipe

Little O Midwest

These are one of my favorite Zingerman’s cookies.  They rely on good butter, vanilla, real maple syrup, oatmeal and of course raisins.  We actually use organic rolled oats for these to get the traditional texture of a traditional American oatmeal raisin cookie.  I like to use Red Flame raisins, which are much larger and juicier than the more typical Thompsons.

1 cup butter, softened

3/4 cup brown sugar, firmly packed

1/2 cup maple syrup

1 large egg, beaten

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract or 2 vanilla beans, scraped

2 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Pinch grated nutmeg, preferably freshly grated

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

2 cups rolled oats

2 cups dark raisins (about 12 ounces by weight)

Preheat the oven to 350° F

Combine the flour, soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and sea salt in a medium-sized bowl and set aside.

In a large bowl, cream the butter. Mix in the sugar.  Slowly add the maple syrup and blend well.  In a small bowl, combine the eggs and vanilla. Add to sugar mixture a little at a time, mixing well. Add the flour mixture a little at a time, stirring well. Add the oats and blend well. Add the raisins and stir well.

For each cookie, scoop 2 tablespoons of the dough, form into a ball, then press out onto a lightly greased cookie sheet into 1/2 inch rounds.

Bake 7 to 9 minutes or until the cookies are golden brown and baked through. Cool on cookie sheet one minute then move onto a cool surface.

Eat ‘em while they’re still hot or cool and store for a few days in a suitably safe location.

Makes about 24 cookies.

The story of how we at Zingerman’s connected with The Christmas Cookie Club isn’t quite as romantic as Ann Pearlman’s novel, but it’s certainly a nice one and one that seems fully in sync with everything Ann has written about.  It starts back in the summer of 2003, when we were getting ready to open Zingerman’s Roadhouse, our sit-down restaurant in Ann Arbor where we serve traditional American foods.  Melina Hinton was one of the first servers we hired.  Over the years Melina became an ever more important part of our team, and the breadth of our connection grew ever wide.  Her sister Elizabeth came to work with us for a while, and we got to know her daughters when she’d bring them by the Roadhouse. And then at some point a year or two in, we met Ann.  So, although most people know Ann Pearlman as the famous author of The Christmas Cookie Club, I know her, first and foremost, as Melina’s mother.

Regardless of how we met, the main thing is that the connection with Ann turned out to be a great one.  We share values around creativity and caring for the community, as well as a passion for good writing, and in this case, good cookies. Given the national stage on which The Christmas Cookie Club is “showing”—network talk shows, big-time films, blogs and magazines galore—I’m sure Ann and her literary manager could have handed this project to some industrial bakery that would have paid a lot of money for the opportunity. But in the spirit of the Cookie Club, our long-standing relationship and Ann’s commitment to quality ad local production, we’ve worked together to do a set of cookies that lives up to the values we share.  I’m sure there are less costly cookies that could have been stuck into a Christmas Cookie Club package, but I doubt that they’d actually have had the soul and flavor of the ones that Amy, Frank and everyone from the Bakehouse have created.  I hope you enjoy eating these cookies as much as we’ve enjoyed working with Ann and baking, testing, and tasting them.

Ari Weinzweig, Zingerman’s co-founder.

George’s Double Chocolate Love Cookies

3/4 c butter-flavored Crisco (George avoided cholesterol…you could use butter.)

3/4C brown sugar

2 Tbs milk

2 Tbs. vanilla

4 Tbs. cocoa

1 egg

1 3/4 c flour

1 tsp salt

3/4 tsp baking soda

3/4 c semi sweet chocolate chips.

Cream the Crisco or butter with the sugar and add the milk and vanilla. Beat in the cocoa, egg and the flour, salt, soda.  Stir in the chocolate chips.  Add walnuts or pecans if you wish.  Drop rounded Tbs. of batter on cookie sheet 3 inches apart. Bake at 375 for 9 minutes.  Let sit for a few minutes, remove from sheet and cool completely.

George was married to my very close friend and business partner, Linda.  He worked as a contractor for most of his life and began cooking after he retired with the same attention to detail as he paid his finish carpentry.  Linda has a passion for chocolate and detests nuts.  For years, he tested recipes on us at Holiday time, and an outdoor July 4th celebration which also encompassed a birthday party for my daughter.  He designed these cookies for his wife, sneaking a few nuts in a quarter batch because he knew how much I love them.The last time I saw him he was very ill.  Linda walked into the room where we were sitting,  George turned to me, and said, “All she has to do is walk in and I’m flooded with warmth and happiness.”I thought how lucky they both were. After he died, his granddaughter made a book of his recipes which she gave to his family and close friends.  That first holiday season, I made a double batch of George’s Love Cookies and sent them, along with a few dozen cookies from the Christmas cookie party, to Linda.  As I made them, I tried to add the additional love, the love that George always put in.

Check back soon for stories and recipes!