Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Embrace the Darkness: Schnecken Ahoy
RECIPE CORNER: Getting Nutty and Flipping Out
I’ve been asked for the recipe for schnecken. I’ll tell ya, I’ve been vascilating on this point. I considered posting the recipe yesterday and then pulled back, thinking that it was overkill, or that I was protecting some kind of semi-public secret, or maybe I just wanted to maintain a sense of personal superiority through knowledge control or something. But then last night I went to my Tuesday Evening Yoga Freakout, and the irrepressibly bubbly instructor Nina (Jack! Call CTU! She’s alive!) reminded us that yesterday was the solstice, and in doing so, set our theme and intention for our practice that evening: to embrace the darkness and confront the things we hide. People were coming to the solstice, and the shank of this holiday season, as if it were something to be endured, not enjoyed, and were treating these days of darkness-in-excess-of-light as days of gloom. As I lay on my mat and aligned myself for 90 minutes of rigor and concentration, I could not embrace this prevailing attitude. These days are good days, as good as any during the glaring summer months. As the class proceeded and my mind cleared, these three thoughts occurred to me:
* The winter solstice marks the end of encroaching darkness. Now the daylight hours are increasing again. This is a time to recognize and celebrate the expansion of the natural cycle, not its contraction.
* Even though the daylight is slowly lengthening now day by day, it is true that winter is now upon us and the temperatures will be lower, the earth less fertile, and our subcutaneous adipose layers, more tenacious. (And that’s probably for the best. The supracutaneous adipose layers are exceptionally unflattering.) So even as the sun shines more upon us, the earth will not warm up for some months. This is not the kind of change that can be effected by flipping a switch. The mere fact of increasing light is not dispositive. The earth itself has to catch up with the process before it warms to the season. And in the same way, I can make any change I wish to in my life, but my life will have to catch up with me before I notice the change making a difference.
* Which led me to think that light is a distraction. I get much of my best work done at night, in the darkness, when I can concentrate on what is really going on. More light does not always make the problem go away. As King Claudius eventually learned, you can call for the light but still not perceive the situation clearly. And as Hamlet discovered, sometimes you learn the most from spirits in the night.
With all this in mind I thought of the schnecken. They rise in darkness, twice over, and we must wait for this process to fulfill itself before we can enjoy their sweetness. Lightness is not a virtue in them; they are not done unless they have darkened properly and if they are too pale they go back in the oven to age and mature a little longer. They seem to embody many of the principals that buoy me during solstice-days. And with that in mind, how could I hold back the truth that has set me free?
Plus, nobody’s gonna make these. So what’s the harm?
Here’s the recipe that has been passed down in my family from Lena who came from Germany at the turn of the last century, and which has been embraced by the “lady outlaws” - women who married into this incestuously tightly-knit clan. Over the years, techniques have been perfected, but the recipe is already perfect. SO DON’T SCREW IT UP.
Mix 1/2 lb of softened butter, 4 cups flour, 4 tablespoons sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt till well-blended. Add 2 eggs plus two yolks, and mix again thoroughly. Proof 2 envelopes of yeast in 1/2 cup of warm sugared water and add this to the dough, mixing thoroughly again. Cover and refrigerate overnight, or for at least 8 hours. The dough will rise, slowly, to about twice its original size.
The dough will make 4 dozen schnecken, so get 4 12-cup muffin pans. Prepare the pans with 1 teaspoon melted butter, 1 teaspoon brown sugar, 1 teaspoon karo, and 2 or 3 pecan halves for each schneck.
When the dough is ready, cut it into 1/4s and work one quarter at a time. Roll it out on a cold well-floured surface till thin; try to get it in a generally rectangular shape. The dough will be sticky so use lots of flour to keep things from sticking to the rolling pin, the surface, and your hands. Brush the rolled dough with melted butter and then sprinkle liberally but not excessively with cinnamon sugar, raisins, and crushed pecans. (Sometimes we experiment with cranberries or something like that. Let your conscience be your guide.) Carefully roll the dough into a cylinder - be gentle. Cut each cylinder into 12 pieces; if the ends are kind of skinny and weak, cut them off and use them together to make one schneck, and then cut the remainder into 11 pieces. Fill the muffin pans with schnecken sections; pour another teaspoon of melted butter over each one and then cover and let rise in a warm place (the recipe I have says 3 hours; we never waited that long). When they’re double in size, bake at 375 F for about 10 minutes, until golden-brown. Remove and immediately flip the tray upsidedown onto a smooth flat surface on which they can cool - parchment paper on a cooling rack works well. Let them cool till the molten sugar is firm to the touch; then scarf them down with milk or bourbon.
And may god have mercy on your souls. Time for me to get out of here. Have a happy Wednesday, and don’t flip out before you’re fully baked!
