Gung Hay Fat Choy, friends and lovers. Welcome to the Year of the Snake.
I’ve stocked up on mandarins and lucky coins to lure good fortune my way for the Lunar New Year, but I’m not exactly holding my breath. The fruit will probably get muddled beyond recognition and wind up in a cocktail or two and the lucky coins will likely find their way into one of the washing machines in my basement so, if prosperity does pass me by, at least I’ll be clean, drunk, and free from scurvy.
I don’t want you to think I’m 100% convinced that the absolute worst is going to happen to me in 2025, it’s simply that I’m being clear-eyed about my chances and, like a Greek mother spitting on her child to chase away evil spirits, I’m printing out terrible messages and hiding them in delicious treats to ward off whatever demons might lie coiled up in wait for me in the coming twelve ophidian months.
So I’m making a batch of what I like to think of as antivenom for the Year of the Snake: Misfortune cookies.
It’s uniquely liberating to write down your worst fears, cut them into little ribbons, and hide them in baked goods. Sugarcoating your worries takes a bite out of the fright, you might say.
And if you decide to offer your misfortune cookies to unsuspecting friends, when the initial shock of horrific news subsides, reassure them that, whatever might befall them in the coming weeks and months, it probably won’t be as bad as what’s written on those little slips of paper.
And then offer them seconds.
Misfortune Cookies
Purchasing these treats would certainly be easier than making them, but then you’d be surrendering the chance to decide the fates and fortunes of your hungry friends and family. More free time or godlike power? You decide.
For the tender hearted among you, consider adding a single Pandora-like message of hope. For the nihilists in the audience, omit the fortunes entirely because what’s the point of anything anyway?
One of my cooking school teachers, Rhoda Yee, took our class on a tour of San Francisco’s Chinatown, where she led us down an alley to a small factory that made naughty fortune cookies, so you could take that road, too.
The fate of your future cookie eaters is entirely in your hands.
The following recipe is derived from my delightful friend John (aka Food Wishes) if you’d like to watch a video of his hands making non-terrible fortune cookies, please click here.
Makes: About 8 mildly distressing cookies
Ingredients:
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1 large egg white
• 1 tablespoon milk (or more, if needed)
• 1 tablespoon if melted butter (unsalted)
• 1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/8 teaspoon almond extract
• a pinch of salt
• 1/3 cup of all-purpose flour (more, if needed)
• as many custom paper (mis)fortunes as you like. Cut into narrow strips.
Preparation:
Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a cookie sheet with butter. If you have a silpat, line the sheet with that and save the butter for something more exciting.
Whisk together the melted butter, milk, egg white, sugar, vanilla & almond extracts, and salt until the sugar is fully dissolved. Add flour a bit at a time, mixing until the batter is smooth and dribbles off the whisk in light ribbons, which slowly disappear.
Scoop 1 tablespoon of batter onto one side of the baking sheet. Now do the same on the other side. Using a gentle swirling motion, spread each bit of batter into a 4” circles. Baking any more than two of these cookies at a time is insanity.
Bake in your now hot oven until the edges are lightly browned and the center pale (between 9 to 10 minutes).
Working as quickly as possible, lift 1 cookie with an offset metal spatula (you need a sharp edge). Add a fortune to the center, fold the very hot, still pliable cookie in half. Bend the straight, long end over the side of a coffee mug or a glass tumbler and pull the ends down on both sides. Place the cookie in a muffin tin or small ramekin to help hold its shape as its cooling. Or, if you’re like me, give up on finding your muffin tin and gently place your precious cargo between a crystal decanter full of whiskey and a square bottle of Bombay gin. It’s ok to get creative. These cookies cool VERY quickly, so I recommend placing the sheet with the 2nd cookie on it back in the oven until you’ve finished shaping the 1st. It may take one or two batches to get the hang of things. Don’t get discouraged— it’s a very easy process once you figure it out. Also: the batter is absurdly quick and easy to make, should you need more.
Repeat process until you have used up all of your batter or until you just give up on everything and start drinking the contents of that whiskey decanter.
Serve to the unsuspecting with a warm smile and a cold heart.
Jesus, take the Tuile
Haha! Great idea! BTW, my landlord will be unhappy if I get a paid subscription.