Send your nerves on a Christmas vacation

Happiest of holidays from the Nervous Cook!

Wishing you a 2010 full of sharp knives, in-season produce,
and plenty of seltzer for removing red-wine stains left by festive revelers.

Have a happy and a safe one!

Cookies are serious business. Seriously.

Everyone finds the holidays stressful, and don't even try to tell me you don't. No, don't even try it -- I can see right through you and your Christmas sweater and your ornament earrings, with your perfect little cookie-press sugar cookies and your grab bag of tiny presents on hand just in case you encounter someone who unexpectedly gifts you.

I'm just not buying it.

Instead, I believe in embracing the holiday frazzle. Run out of wrapping paper halfway through your last present; spell that guy in Accounting's name wrong on the envelope; wait in the hour-long line at the post office for another book of nutcracker stamps only to find out all they have left are the kelp forest ones; bake your feelings, and then eat them.

The latter I have totally taken care of.

Not normally a baker, I have spent the past month practically soldered to my Silpat, churning out batch after batch of what will, on the eating end, be stress busters. But since I'm not naturally accustomed to being the jolly Keebler elf laughingly at work creaming sugar and butter -- rosy cheeks good-naturedly smudged with white flour, ho ho! -- I find baking to be one of the most tense, unpredictable and terrifying tasks of the season.

Everybody loves cookies, sure. But everybody loves the perfect cookie -- not the half-burnt, half-hearted Toll House nonsense your mom burped out for bake sales and pot lucks. We're talking serious holiday cookies here, people. It has got to be good, and it ain't easy.

I'm not a game-changer; I don't know from cookie recipes. All's I know is that I wanted to make your standard "new twist on an old classic." What did that mean? Where would I find the perfect holiday cookie for 2009?? Would it be citrus sugar cookies with sparkly sugar? Almond cookies rolled in peanut butter and then powdered sugar? Kalamata shortbread bars?

And then, puzzling over the predicament while eating breakfast one brisk morning, my eyes trained on the perfect solution: muesli chocolate chip. Old classic! New twist! Stressful problem solved, oh thank G-d, let's get to the eating-our-feelings part already.

Recipe adapted from the package of Bob's Red Mill Old Country Style Muesli
(which is the greatest thing to happen to breakfast since waking up).

1 cup muesli 3/4 cup whole-wheat flour 2/3 cup unsweetened applesauce 3/4 cup brown sugar (I used dark) 6oz pkg chocolate chips 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp cinnamon 1/2 tsp salt 1/2 tsp vanilla 1 egg

Mix flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon and set aside. Stir together applesauce, vanilla and sugar. Beat in egg completely, then slowly add the flour mixture and blend. Mix in muesli and chips. Scoop onto greased/parchmented/Silpatted baking sheet and pop into 375° oven for 10-12 minutes.

Well, it's a good thing I was following the instructions on the muesli and not the chocolate chips -- I went to the store intending to pick up mini dark-chocolate pieces and inadvertently came home with jumbo milk-chocolate ones.

Pay more attention, Nervous Cook!

I also know I essentially just made Toll House cookies for grown-ups who want fake-healthy treats on the table at their holiday party, but I will tell you what, my friends -- these little guys were tasty. They had everything you obviously want from your tradish c.c.cookie, but with that little something... extra. A little bit more pop, a little bit more crunch: They're squishy and chewy and tasty, accidentally huge chocolate chips and all.

G-d, that was theraputic.

The Nervous Cook is no longer nervous about: following the recipes on the sides of packaged foods. Here I come, crushed-Cheez-It macaroni and... cheez?

Pray tell, how them pralines?

Holiday treats hold a special place in my heart -- and in my stomach, I guess. Mmm, treats…

Wait, I was going to say something. Stop thinking about treats for a second, Meister!

I've been a barista for a tick less than 9 years now, and for about 7 of those formative years I've made special from-scratch holiday treats and doled them out to my favorite regulars, as well as other folks who deserve a little extra something at least once a year (e.g. my mail carrier, the dry cleaner who endures all of my many vintage-clothing alterations, etc).

Four years ago this time of year, I was busy rolling out ginger-molasses-cookie dough and whipping up my first batch of royal icing to make "cowboy" cookies (they were shaped like boots). I wrapped 'em up and tied 'em with a bow, and then I shyly gave them out to folks at the café of my employ.

One person who got those cookies? Mr. Nervous… to whom I'd never spoken before.

That's right, friends -- I used the cookies as an excuse to talk to the cute regular I had a crush on for the first time. And it worked: He was so tickled by the gesture that he came back from his Christmas vacation the next week and told me everything about his holiday. From that moment on we were inseparable, and now he endures my cookies all the darned time, the poor guy.

Even though I haven't been in the market for a cookie-inspired love connection since then (don't worry, honey), I have kept up the tradition of showing my appreciation for people by spreading the treat love every holiday season. And every year I am completely petrified that the treats won't turn out and no one will ever talk to me again and I'll mysteriously stop getting magazine deliveries and the dry cleaner won't even try to get the spots off of my ridiculous sweater. And then what am I gonna do?? Time is running out, the holidays are breathing hot and heavy down our sweaty, overworked, stressed-out necks, but I simply can't let a year go by without treating up the neighborhood.

This year, in a fever pitch of anxiety, I decided to turn to the holiday master for help. Please, Martha -- take me away from this holiday hell! And so she did, with a little gem from 2007's holiday issue of Living.

Oh, thank G-d, pistachio praline bars. Genius.

Recipe adapted from Martha Stewart Living.

vegetable oil 2 cups granulated sugar 1/3 cup water 2 cups chopped raw pistachio meat 1 tsp coarse salt

Lightly oil a 9x13" baking sheet and cover with parchment, cutting the paper long enough to hang over the edge a couple inches. Boil water and sugar in a small pan over medium-high heat, swirling and tilting the pan to mix. Using a wet pastry brush, wipe off sides of pan to prevent crystals from forming. Boil (but don't stir) until mixture turns amber brown (10 mins). Take pan off heat and immediately stir in nuts and salt. Pour mixture onto parchment paper, spreading thin with a spatula. Let cool enough to set, though mixture should still be soft; pick up using the extra length of parchment and rest on top of a cutting board. Using a slightly oiled knife, cut into bars of any size. Cool completely; these can be stored in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks, but you'll just be tempted to eat them, so give them out already.

At first, I was really skeptical, because it felt like the sugar was taking a small eternity to melt and darken. Oh, boy, did it take what seemed like an ice age, honestly -- all the while with me hunched over it like a witch around a cauldron, toil-and-troubling and fussing over preventing crystals to form around the edges of the pan.

But then it happened. One, two, three, boom -- deep amber beautiful melty richness. Stir in dem nuts, sprinkle some salt, pour, spread, cut, done.

Perfect. Completely picture perfect. A++ buyer.

And to all the parking-garage attendants, freight-elevator operators, UPS employees, bartenders, and neighbors I've thanked before, happy holidays!

The Nervous Cook is no longer nervous about: coasting into this holiday season armed with melted sugar–coated nuts.

Wait, unless anybody has a nut allergy! Oh, dear…