These cookies are for the ones whose love is quiet and steady—the kind that doesn’t need grand gestures, rooms filled with roses, or extravagant dinners. These cookies don’t belong in stories of fevered, star-crossed love, tangled in passion and destined for ruin. They are simpler and better suited to love that is already there and always will be; for your partner, your mother, your friend, or neighbor—perhaps even for yourself.
This week’s newsletter is all about my Valentine’s cookie box: six cookie recipes, each with creative variations as well as sub-recipes to mix and match. Some may stretch the definition of a cookie—like the lemon brown butter thyme blondies—but they belong here just the same.
Bake them, share them, leave them on a doorstep for someone to find.
This is a rather long post, so feel free to view via the website or app if the email cuts out.
At the far end of a cobbled mews, steam billows from vents, twisting into the air like ribbons unraveling. The scent reaches me before anything else—warm yeast, cardamom, syrupy rhubarb - followed by that unmistakable, almost palpable, undercurrent of the city that confirms, without question - you are in London.
Pigeons cluster by the bakery door, pecking at the shattered remains of croissants and the burnt-sugar edges of cinnamon buns. I follow my nose. The counter is lined with pastry: maritozzi stuffed with blood orange curd and caramel cream, their golden domes split open like grinning, sugared faces; pain au chocolat where the molten centers have just begun to seep; Danish pastries heavy with custard and rhubarb, blushing syrup pooling in the folds of buttery dough. A lone chocolate cookie, cracked and crinkled, its center dark with melting chocolate, sits temptingly by the register.
There is no one at the till. Beyond the counter, a baker—apron dusted in flour, head bowed, shoulders hunched—kneads dough with quiet concentration. He glances up, nods, a quick lift of the chin in greeting.
It’s Sunday morning - bright and brittle, the golden winter sun stretches across an unblemished blue sky. The cold is merciless, slicing through skin like shattered glass. My father is in the hospital just around the corner, recovering from chemo. I've stepped out to grab a late breakfast for my mother, my husband, and for Dad—if he's able to eat. But really, I just needed air.
“What will it be, miss?”
I place my order. The baker turns back to the trays behind him, then, as if reading my mind: “If you’ve got a minute, we’ve just pulled some cookies from the oven. They’ll be cool soon.”
I nod. Staying in the warm glow of this place for a few more minutes hardly feels like a chore. A moment later, he hands me a brown paper bag, its corners growing translucent with butter.
“Popped some extras in for you. On me.” A flicker of a smile, brief but certain. I thank him, take the bag, and step back into the cold.
At the hospital, I unpack cookies, pain au chocolat, and my father’s favorite—a still-warm almond croissant, frangipane spilling from its seams, covered in icing sugar like a dusting of snow. The scent of butter fills the room, we eat in easy silence - the only sound is the delicate snap of pastry yielding. I glance over to check on my father—crumbs cling to the corners of his mouth, slivers of almond caught in his beard. He grins: “No side effects…yet!”
I take a bite of the cookie, still warm, its edges crisp, the center dark. It is the best cookie I have ever had.
For my first Valentine’s cookie box, I’ve created six master recipes with several sub recipes, each designed to be adapted and reimagined. These aren’t just cookies—they’re a starting point for creativity, an invitation to experiment.
The Master Recipes
Lemon Zest Meringue, Rhubarb Custard and Rose Kisses
Sharp meringue kisses, crisp at the edges, dissolving to nothing on the tongue, perch on a rhubarb buttercream that holds just enough tartness to keep things from becoming too sweet. Rolled in sugar infused with rose water, the shortbread is fragrant and fruity with freeze-dried raspberries.
Ruby Chocolate Salami
At first glance, you’d be forgiven for mistaking this for mortadella—blush pink, marbled with pistachios, and looking perfectly at home on a charcuterie board. But take one bite and the ruse is up: no cold cut here, rather a confection of ruby and white chocolate, studded with freeze-dried raspberries, candied citrus peel, angelica, hazelnuts, and mini marshmallows. Slice and serve with espresso—no mustard required.
Salted Blood Orange & Earl Grey Millionaire’s Shortbread
Earl Grey’s bergamot warmth runs through a crumbly shortbread base, delicate yet assured. A ribbon of salted blood orange caramel follows—thick, glossy, poised between sharp and sweet. Then comes the sunset-hued blood orange white chocolate ganache, smooth as silk, melting away the moment it meets the tongue.
Brown Butter & Thyme Lemon Blondies
Hardly a cookie, yet entirely deserving of its place in this very special Valentine's cookie box. The zest of two lemons is worked (with the finger tips), into the sugar, teasing out every last drop of citrus oil. Meanwhile, butter is browned with thyme until it turns the color of hazelnuts, rich with its own toasty perfume. This hot butter is poured onto chopped white chocolate before being incorporated into the batter. The result? A bite intoxicatingly laced with citrus, reminiscent of an Italian garden in early spring. Butter melts into lemon’s bright tang, the vibrancy softened by the sweetness of white chocolate. Nevertheless, the citrus notes linger, in the zest-infused sugar and the glossy, tangy glaze that crowns the top. If you make one recipe from this list, let it be this one (and perhaps the millionaire’s shortbread!)
Pistachio and Orange Blossom Calisson Hearts
Calissons are a traditional French confection, originally from Aix-en-Provence, made by blending finely ground almonds, candied melon and orange blossom water into a smooth paste. Historically, they require careful preparation and patience, but here’s a shortcut: pistachios and almonds finely ground with candied citrus peel finished with a touch of orange blossom water. Sweet, but not cloying—perfect paired with a strong coffee or a cup of soothing Earl Grey, depending on your mood.
Campari Candied Blood Orange Shapes
Most certainly not a cookie, but a welcome addition all the same. By now, readers will be familiar with my particular fondness for Negronis and anything that satisfies a craving for sour sweets. These blood orange peels do just that. Candied to a burnished gleam, they are kissed with a touch of Campari which deepens their sweetness whilst preserving that unmistakable Negroni-like bite. And candying citrus? It’s not nearly as tricky or demanding as you might think.
Component recipes
You’ll notice that the master recipes contain several component recipes, for example, the meringue kisses combine layers of buttercream, meringue and shortbread cookie. These recipes are designed with flexibility in mind, offering a framework you can adapt and take in any direction. They are not fixed instructions, but starting points—meant to inspire your creativity and give you the freedom to explore variations, experiment with flavors, and make each offering your own.
Take the lemon and brown butter thyme blondies, for example. Instead of my lemon icing suggestion, why not crown them with hibiscus glaze? Or imagine whipping the blood orange ganache and using it as a silky filling for a lemon zest meringue kiss. You could even turn shortbread into a sandwich, filled with salted blood orange caramel, alfajores-style. The possibilities are endless.
Here is a list of component recipes for you to experiment with and make your own if you so wish:
Lemon zest meringue kisses – instead of individually piped, why not consolidate them into a pavlova?
Rhubarb buttercream – perfect for layered cakes, such as a Victoria sponge.
Raspberry shortbread rolled in rose sugar – the rose sugar adds a lovely touch, but these shortbread cookies stand alone. Freeze-dried raspberries are another option that could be swapped for candied citrus peel. This shortbread is also wonderful dunked in hibiscus glaze and scattered with freeze dried raspberries.
Hibiscus glaze – ideal for topping a loaf cake, such as my mixed citrus drizzle cake.
Earl Grey shortbread – delicious on its own, but for a treat less sweet, these would be lovely with a simple topping of melted 70% dark chocolate.
Blood orange ganache – refrigerate for 5-10 minutes, then whip with an electric whisk for a fantastic cake or cookie filling.
Salted blood orange caramel – as above.
Lemon icing – fantastic for drizzling over a layered cake, with candied citrus peel as decoration.
Lemon and brown butter thyme blondies – for added richness, fold in roughly chopped white chocolate chunks or chips, just as you would with a classic dark chocolate brownie. Alternatively, add a few tablespoons of almond slivers to the batter or icing for a little crunch. Or leave it as is – this one-bowl wonder is perfectly delicious on its own. In fact, I had a slice for breakfast this morning.
Feel free to mix and match, adding your own twist to these base recipes. The possibilities are endless.
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