These cookies have been waiting to be made for several years now. I found the cookie cutters--a snowflake and an angel--in an alley by our apartment in Ocean Beach. It was a regular custom for people to put good, usable stuff in their alley and other people would find it and take it home. Walking the alleys of OB with Noah in the Baby Bjorn was how I discovered how much of a packrat I am. I also further validated my love of nature. The alleys seemed more semi-wild than the sidewalks. Wooden fences that sagged and bowed under their own weight, darkened with age, covered in one vine or another that managed to find its way to San Diego, where the weather supports growth of almost any plant imaginable. I harvested and tasted my first passion fruit from an OB alley. The flavor of which is something that must be experienced to understand. I also harvested dill, which lasted us until just this year. And observed the insolent, disobedient flock of cherry-headed conures that fly like a cloud of insects, circling and swooping over the rooftops until they find a suitable tree for foraging or preening.
Every year since then, at Christmas time, the cookie cutters make themselves known in my imagination. This year, they finally got put to their intended use. And the results are delightful.