Maple Butter Cookies

The Nordic Ski team filed off of our yellow school bus and stepped out onto the snow covered parking lot. Several beginners, including myself, having not yet purchased our own equipment trudged up the hill to the rental shop. The cabin was small and quaint, a warm fire burned in the fireplace standing in the center of the room and the walls were lined with long wooden benches. The owner fitted us each with our own pair of skate skis and poles and, after tucking our bags beneath the wooden benches, we headed back out into the frosty air to meet up with the rest of our team.

We circled up and as our coaches discussed the plans for the day I took a moment to look over my equipment. Black wrist straps hung from the tops of my poles each with a large and small hole. Strap with small hole on the right goes with left hand, I thought to myself as I stuffed my gloved hand through the strap. This was my first time.

"V1, V2, V2 Alt. ..." One coach listed the different techniques we would be working on today and I leaned onto my poles, sliding my skis back and forth. It seemed easy enough.

We split into two groups: those who had skied for the team last year, and those who had not. The returnees wished us luck and glided off to the trails. I watched the rhythm and grace of their strides in anxious anticipation. 

When our moment came I stood tall on my skis, lifted my poles, and slid one ski forward. The other ski followed and it slipped out from under me sending me crashing to the cold snow. I stood up and tried again, and again, but the rhythm and motion that had appeared so easy and natural, just did not come.

While the others skied off onto the trails I stayed behind in the open field to work on my technique and to inevitably fall many more times. By the time the coaches called us over to pack up I was exhausted and still an embarrassingly poor skier.

The buses have a strict "no eating" policy so once our gear was stowed we grabbed our lunches and sat side by side, leaning against the side of a red barn beside the parking lot. Tired and hungry, my ordinary chicken salad wrap and mediocre granola bar tasted absolutely delicious. Even the water seemed especially refreshing that afternoon. Lunch was topped off with a sweet maple cookie from the girl sitting next to me. I bit in, letting the rich maple dance across my tongue and I walked back to the bus with a smile on my face.

Maple Butter Cookies

adapted from Gourmet via smitten kitchen 

makes about 40 cookies

Deb, from smitten kitchen, added the nutmeg to the original recipe. The addition, though seemingly small, made these cookies more dimensional and elevated the vivid maple flavor. It's a must.

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup Grade B maple syrup

1 large egg yolk

3 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg or 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 teaspoon salt

Using an electric mixer, cream together butter and sugar until light and fluffy. With mixer running, add yolk and slowly pour in maple syrup. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, nutmeg and salt. Add to the butter mixture and stir until just combined. Gather the dough together and form into a ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 2 hours or up to 4 days, until firm. 

Preheat oven to 350°F and line a few baking sheets with parchment paper. Cut the dough in half leaving one half in the fridge. Roll dough to 1/8-inch thickness and cut out desired shapes.

Bake for 8-11 minutes, until the edges of the cookies are golden. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Store in an airtight container for a few days, or store in the freezer for longer.