We usually make some variety of Christmas cookies around this time. I’m still scarred from last year. You can’t see the scar anymore, but the memory of my being an idiot and touching the scalding, melted, candied ginger, then eveything changing into slow motion as I turned toward the sink and tried to coherently scream, and getting a very painful, second-degree burn (to which Aron eventually had to–eagerly–apply his surgical skills) still scars me. Oh, yes. Vivid.
We kept things safe this year: no melted ginger. Just powdered ginger.
And simple, lovely form cookies.
We played with different tip diameters.
The teeny-tiny cocentric circles in the middle of this star are remnants of the laughter that ensued when trying to squeeze buttercream through a teeny-tiny tip.
We had greater success with the next size up.
We still have a lot of extra, unfrosted cookies–and I didn’t injur myself this time–so we’re thinking of experimenting with “flooding” techniques next…
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