It’s a sad truth that sometimes, the more people become enamored with the now very fashionable world of food, it’s easy to become a bit of a snob. And while I admire all those who only buy organic ingredients, grow their own vegetables, and measure out their flour by weight instead of by cups, sometimes I yearn for the simplicity of a recipe whose primary purpose is to give you something sweet and comforting, even without the righteous frills.
It was with this in mind that I sought out a recipe for Snickerdoodles – the cookie that has, over the years, elicited perhaps the maximum scoffs from the entire population at large. I’ve had a few over time, but none were quite what I wanted. Several were delightfully oversized but disappointingly dry, while others looked chewy but felt about as soft as biting into a porcelain plate. Perhaps in my quest to utilize fancy ingredients and namedrop famous pastry chefs, I lost track of that important homey quality. Fate, it seems, kept me from the perfect snickerdoodle until I could find it again.
Luckily, I received a much-needed dose of reality to check my heady baking rampages when I took a stab at a lemon strawberry cake that was an incredible failure. I shant go into the details (as my poor bruised ego is still recovering), but needless to say the greatest fruits of my labor were a small burn on my left forearm and an entire loaf of bread that had to be thrown away. It was then that I was the fortunate recipient of a recipe from my boyfriend’s aunt. She tells me she’s not really a serious baker, but the Kitchen Aid on her counter, the antique bundt pans on the wall, and all my boyfriend’s accounts of her goods would suggest otherwise. This recipe yields the snickerdoodle of which I’ve always dreamed – crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a simple but utterly delicious taste of butter, cinnamon, and sugar.
Unlike many snickerdoodle recipes that use only butter, this one uses both butter and shortening. Dorrie Greenspan says in her book that the combination of the fats is what makes her pie crusts the best around, and I am inclined to think that it is this same duo that makes the cookies what they are.
Aunt Trish's Snickerdoodles
Ingredients:1/2 cup butter, softened1/2 cup shortening1 1/2 cup sugar2 eggs2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour2 tsp. cream of tartar1 tsp. baking soda1/4 tsp. salt2 TBS sugar2 tsp. cinnamonMethod:1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.2. Mix butter, shortening, sugar, and eggs.3. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt.4. Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients and combine with wooden spoon. Shape dough by rounded teaspoons into balls.5. In a shallow bowl, mix 2 TBS sugar and cinnamon; roll balls in mixture.6. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheet.7. Bake ~ 8 to 10 minutes or until set. Immediately remove from baking sheet.Yield: ~ 6 dozen cookies.
Whenever I move to a new city, I like to familiarize myself with the places that are truly instrumental to my health and happiness – local bakeries. I don’t care what anyone says, Bakery Tours are the best way to acquaint oneself with a town. How could anyone doubt the benefits of a little exploration and a lot of baked goods? Since I moved to the bay area, I’ve been slacking on the bakery tour because I already knew of one bakery whose pastries I’d come to worship over the years. This entry is not about that bakery. Instead, I found today’s destination as an assignment from my dad, whose food research rivals those who actually get paid to do it. So, I took myself to Café Fanny. It’s not so much of a bakery as an eatery, or some synonymous word for “cute little place that serves somewhat pretentious but very tasty food.” For more on the establishment and its history, check out their website here.
Not to keep you in suspense, I’ll give the brief version right now: great breakfast place for a very European-feeling poached egg on toast and a latte that’s served in a bowl instead of (gasp) a mug with any sort of handle. Would I recommend it to people? Certainly, though it seems best for an individual or group of two, rather than a family or party of friends. Would I go again? I’ve almost undoubtedly found a new place for my weekend café rotation. Are the baked goods exquisite? To be honest, those showcased in the café seemed under-emphasized, but that’s because the café is situated directly next door to Acme Bread, which provides both sweet and savory delights that will send any bread appreciator (there should be a term for it – a “panthusiast”?) into raptures.
People around the bay area are very into their food, and I shant deny that there is a certain level of snobbery in all of Berkeley when it comes to eating. But that being said, Café Fanny is surprisingly accessible – at least, until the crowds show up (for me that was about 10:30 on a Saturday morning). Don’t bother asking for a nonfat latte, though, because they only have lowfat milk. So if you’re jonesing for a highly customized but high-quality cup of coffee, any nearby Peet’s Coffee is still your best bet. From a practical perspective, it’s best to arrive on the early side if you’re going for breakfast and don’t feel like standing in line. Standing at the counter to enjoy your steel-cut oatmeal or your buckwheat crepe with fruit and organic yogurt is definitely the preferred option. I ordered poached eggs on toast which, as you can see, were perfectly formed (and as you can’t see, were perfectly cooked – hooray). If you’ve ordered coffee, it will arrive at the counter almost certainly long before your food, so you have something to sip as you wait. My latte was soothing and not at all bitter, but also not extraordinarily hot. Keep in mind, I’m biased, and would rather scald myself on a drink that have it lukewarm. But its heat level was fine when I started drinking it – the large surface area of the bowl was certainly the cause of the heat dissipation over time.
The poached eggs arrived on beautiful buttered toast with a bit of salt and pepper sprinkled on top. The bread is a marvel in itself, certainly. And Café Fanny’s eggs were just what I wanted, though I am anxious to try the oatmeal next time. All in all, I greatly enjoyed the eating experience, topped off by a small “rye raisin rabbit” (a rye bun with raisins in it) from the Acme Bread bakery next door. Altogether, my latte and poached eggs ($6.25 by themselves) totaled up to $10.88, which I found reasonable, but I’ll probably just get food next time and enjoy a coffee afterwards.
It’s a sad truth that sometimes, the more people become enamored with the now very fashionable world of food, it’s easy to become a bit of a snob. And while I admire all those who only buy organic ingredients, grow their own vegetables, and measure out their flour by weight instead of by cups, sometimes I yearn for the simplicity of a recipe whose primary purpose is to give you something sweet and comforting, even without the righteous frills. 
Luckily, I received a much-needed dose of reality to check my heady baking rampages when I took a stab at a lemon strawberry cake that was an incredible failure. I shant go into the details (as my poor bruised ego is still recovering), but needless to say the greatest fruits of my labor were a small burn on my left forearm and an entire loaf of bread that had to be thrown away. It was then that I was the fortunate recipient of a recipe from my boyfriend’s aunt. She tells me she’s not really a serious baker, but the Kitchen Aid on her counter, the antique bundt pans on the wall, and all my boyfriend’s accounts of her goods would suggest otherwise. This recipe yields the snickerdoodle of which I’ve always dreamed – crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a simple but utterly delicious taste of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. 
