Hamentashen: Getting to the hat of the matter

I should be cleaning up the dinner and hamentashen dishes, and then reorganizing my closet (the contents on which are now on the bed in an effort to force me to reorganize the closet), so of course here I am, entering the blogosphere and honing my procrastinatory skills.

I do feel the need to say that I'm pretty responsible and don't procrastinate too badly. But it's Friday night and I'm at home washing dishes and reorganizing my closet. Not too appealing. In fact, such behavior is downright dowagerish. Reorganizing the closet is made especially unappealing since the cat will snuggle up in the closet as soon as I'm done, wreaking havoc with the linens. (I bet she's already salivating with naughty anticipation--she's a very destructive being.)

So in an effort to stave off the inevitable reorganization and feline indifference to human productivity, I'm going to write about hamentashen. Hamentashen are butter cookies baked into triangles filled with jam (yum!), poppy seed filling (ick), or chocolate (completely unnecessary, but loved by children). The triangle shape commemorates Persian Jewry's ancient and apocryphal nemesis, Haman, who wanted to eradicate the Jewish people. According to legend Haman either wore a triangular hat or had triangular ears. I hope for his sake it was the former, but the latter would go a long way towards explaining his misanthropic behavior. At any rate, on Purim, the anniversary of Jewry's miraculous rescue by the Jewish Princess Esther, Jews the world over eat miniature Hamans in a show of collective defiance and mock cannibalism. Actually, when you delve into the significance of eating one's enemy you either end up with a psychoanalytic feminist-sexual reason (likening the receptive, consumed hamentashen to the feminine victimization of the Jews, OR to the Jews' feminizing and masculine vanquishing of the apparently bi-gendered Haman) or with something equally grotesque. Obviously the vanquishing of evil before harm comes to the Jews is central to the hamentashen tradition; otherwise why not eat Fuhrer mustaches or cookies shaped like the Kossacks?

Luckily Jews never talk about the deeper issues surrounding hamenstashen. We just bake and eat them. This year's baking has been more difficult than others because I have to account for one of my Hebrew school students, whose mother doesn't let him eat sugar. I'm a little worried that my dough (currently chilling) will suffer from the substitution of honey, making it too sticky to roll or triangulate properly. (In which case Haman wins, and we can't have that.) I also have to reduce frozen berries with some honey and cornstarch, because I couldn't find sugar-free jam and I refuse to use artificial sweeteners. Oy gevalt! I think this whole "my child can't eat any sugar" is stupid. First of all, sugar and honey have similar levels of glucose. Secondly, what is this mother saving her child from? Cavities? A few additional calories? I understand and encourage restricting sweets, but forbidding them altogether is silly. It just means a less satisfying hamentashen for the rest of us, and the child's eventual sugar orgy when he establishes independence from his parents' gustatory authority.

So...want to vanquish Haman along with all the other Jews? Of course you do! And here's how:

1. Combine 2 Cups flour, 2 tsp baking powder, and 1/8 tsp salt in a small bowl.
2. In a mixer cream together 1/2 lb unsalted butter or vegetable shortening, 1 Cup sugar (or 3/4 C honey, but in that case keep adding extra tablespoons of flour to the dough until it seems not too sticky), 1 large egg, 2 packed tsp of orange zest (use an organic orange), and 1 Tb orange juice.
3. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir until a dough forms.
4. Form dough into a ball, pat into a disk, and chill in plastic wrap for at least 2 hours and up to 2 days.
5. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
6. Split dough in half. Keep the second 1/2 in fridge while working with the first 1/2.
7. Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface (it will be very sticky), to about 1/4 inch thickness. Cut into 3-inch circles, and place on cookie sheet.
8. Spoon a scant tsp of filling (jam is best, but melted chocolate will do--I suppose you could put a Hershey kiss in the middle) and (here's the important part): Fold in three sides of the circle to form a triangle. BE SURE TO PINCH THE SIDES TOGETHER TIGHTLY. Otherwise the jam will spill out, creating a miserable hamenstashen with gruesome analytical potential.
9. Bake about 20 minutes, or until pale golden. Cool and enjoy.

And with that Little Chef should sign out, so that I can clean and organize, get to bed, and spend another cheery day as a bookstore peon. On the plus side, I had the most marvelous dream about the Naked Chef last night. Staring at his chummy face all those hours at the store must be building subconscious desires.

Better not tell the fiance.