Danish Butter Cookies

Author Notes

My family does not have a grand cookie-making tradition around the holidays. After the myth of Santa Claus had evaporated and my brother and I were over the age of 12, my Buddhist family didn’t care that much about Christmas. My mom put up a beautiful tree that we all refused to help her decorate, and on Christmas, we exchanged a few relatively modest gifts and called it a day. It meant far more to me to snuggle together and watch the movie Selena than to sing Christmas carols. (Selena is the only movie in the history of time that’s been able to keep all four of us entertained at once.)

What we did relish, though, were the gifts my mom received as a Montessori preschool teacher. Each year she brought home a mountain of presents from her students: scented candles, planners, sweaters and scarves, homemade mugs—and cookies galore. She would set up camp at the base of the pile with a notepad in hand, and my brother and I would tear into the wrappers like raccoons burrowing through trash, yelling out names so that my mom could address her thank-you cards. Perhaps it was the sheer volume that made it fun—we unwrapped and moved on with such fervor that scraps of paper flew around the living room like many-colored birds.

Then we’d hit one of those blue tins of Danish butter cookies, and we’d stop. Jackpot! These were our family’s favorite cookies—super simple with a buttery base and crunchy sugary topping, and not frilly, unless you count the white paper cups they came in. They were just perfect for a cup of tea, and another viewing of Selena.

Years later, after my brother passed away, and we stopped celebrating Christmas altogether, I thought a lot about those butter cookies. Our love for them was outsized because they gave us something else. They gave us a reason to put everything aside and open mom’s presents together, laughing the entire time. There gave us another reason to make more tea and laugh some more. (Except, of course, when we were all shedding tears for Selena.) Because they were gifted by my mother’s lovely students, we spent exactly zero hours working for them in the kitchen. They were the cookies we enjoyed while we hung out and enjoyed each other’s company. And those were the best of times.

My homemade version takes a bit more effort than opening up a blue tin, but they are worth it. Just like the classic, they are both buttery and crisp. I’ve amped them up with plenty of lemon zest and dried currants but kept the classic crunchy sugar topping. Bake them for your family today, but make sure the cookies are done by the time they arrive. Don’t waste one extra minute in the kitchen when you could be out among them, doling out tea and hugs. —Samantha Seneviratne

Test Kitchen Notes

Featured in: Food52's Holiday Cookie Chronicles —The Editors