Picture it: Connecticut, 1986. I’m twelve years old, and am probably wearing a paisley shirt from The Limited with little shoulder pads in it. The collar may or may not be popped. My parents are hosting a party for some of my dad’s colleagues and their spouses, and I have just bitten into the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.
It’s ginger molasses, but saltier and softer and altogether more exquisite than any other ginger molasses cookie I’ve ever eaten. It is a lovely, fawn-like shade of brown, and sparkles with sugar. I know instantly that I need this cookie to be part of my life forever.
FOREVER!!
So, I ask my mom if she knows who brought those heavenly cookies, and she points toward a woman (who probably also has shoulder pads in her shirt) in the dining room.
“Excuse me, Mrs. [whoever]?” I say to her. “Those cookies you brought are, like, amazing. Could I get the recipe?”
She looks at me sort of strangely, almost as if she’s never had a twelve-year-old in shoulder pads ask her for a recipe before. Indeed, I myself have never asked anyone for a recipe before. But I was taking Home Ec. in school (home ec. should still be a thing! It’s awesome!) and was very much into baking and—as I mentioned—I needed those cookies to be a permanent part of my existence on earth.
Several days later, my mother presents me with a carefully typed recipe card that has arrived in the mail (mail!): Ginger Lace Cookies.
I’ve made them nearly every Christmas for the past 35+ years. But in my family we call them The Best Cookies in the World.
I want you, dear reader, to experience the glory of these cookies, so I’m going to give you the recipe. Soon. VERY soon. I promise. But like a cooking website, I’m going to make you read something else first. And if you try to scroll down and skip ahead, a whole bunch of annoying pop-up ads will thwart you. Bwahahahahah. (Just kidding.)
That something else is, quite simply, thank you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
This past year has been one of the best of my life. My long-time dream of having a novel published with a major press came true, and the experience has been Ginger Lace cookie amazing.
Thank you to everyone who bought The Society of Shame, or borrowed it from the library, or recommended it to a friend, or reached out to tell me you enjoyed it (some of you even sent me mail!), or took the time to review it (positively) on Amazon or Goodreads.
Thank you also to anyone who might have shoplifted the book. Knowing that someone is willing to risk prosecution to read your work is every writer’s dream.
Thank you to the many folks who came out to events, and to those who sent me their pictures of The Society of Shame “in the wild.” The thrill of seeing something I wrote on the shelves of a real live store never gets old. Also: huge thanks to the friends who sneakily made my book face forward or moved it to eye-level when they encountered it in bookstores. Because I can only do so much on my own.
Thank you to the book clubs that picked The Society of Shame, and extra special thanks to the ones who hosted me in person or via Zoom to join the discussion—what a blast! I met so many cool people, who asked such thoughtful and interesting questions.
(Don’t worry, you’re almost to the cookie recipe.)
Thank you to all the booksellers and journalists and podcasters who helped share my book with the world, and to all of the critics, except for one. (You know who you are.) Thank you to my agent, Stéphanie Abou, and the wonderful folks at Vintage/Anchor, especially my editor, Anna Kaufman. Thank you to the producer who optioned The Society of Shame for TV, and to the fairy-book-mother who put the galley in her hands.
Finally, special thanks to Alyssa Milano, both for a great conversation and for putting me within two degrees of Kevin Bacon. Another long-time dream.
And now, as a token of my gratitude and expression of my joy, I give you the cookie recipe to end all cookie recipes.
Ginger Lace Cookies (aka The Best Cookies in the World)
Apologies to international readers, who don’t use our idiotic system of measures
Ingredients:
1 cup sugar, plus extra for rolling dough in before baking
3/4 cups vegetable shortening (i.e. Crisco. Butter works, but you’ll get flatter cookies.)
1/4 cup molasses
1 egg
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp ginger (I usually add a little more…)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves (I usually add a little more…)
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 375. Cream together first four ingredients in a large bowl. Whisk together dry ingredients in a separate bowl and add to wet ingredients. Stir. Form dough into small (1-inch) balls and then roll in sugar to coat. Do not press down.
Bake on ungreased cookie sheets, 7 minutes for chewy cookies (recommended), 8-9 minutes for crispier ones. Note that at 7 minutes, the dough may still look a bit wet in places -- that's ok! It will finish cooking a little more once you take the cookies out of the oven.
*Variation for anyone who left my book a one- or two-star review anywhere, and for that one critic who knows who they are: leave out the sugar and molasses and triple the amount of salt.
If you make them, let me know how they turn out! Either here, or over on Facebook or Instagram.
Happy Hanukkah(belated)/Festivus/Christmas/Kwanzaa, happy new year, my friends. Here’s wishing you health, happiness, and luck in 2024. Thank you, as always, for reading.
P.S. For more seasonal fun, check out Three Holiday Songs that Drive Me Crazy.
P.P.S. As always, if you’d like to discuss The Society of Shame in your book club, I’d be happy to Zoom in or visit in person if you’re in the Greater Boston area (schedule permitting.) Contact me! Note that the paperback comes out in March, and is available for pre-order now.
My kids are obsessed with ginger cookies! Just copied the recipe, thank you! (Also substack is doing a weird thing putting a comment for one post on a different post? Hm...)
Wait a minute- back up to the first photo- is that macrame on the lamp??
Re: cookies- YES! I came upon this recipe in 1992 from the realtor who sold me this house (49 East Emerson Melrose, MA) I had the same feeling as you, Jane, and have also made them every year. One change- I just drop them in sugar, and cook them sugar side up. Definitely Crisco, not butter, for these cookies.