Baci di Cioccolato

The fiance and I don't do Valentine's Day. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it's a wonderful holiday. Unfortunately, I still have horrific flashbacks to Catholic school, where they told us that Saint Valentine was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. Yay, what a cheerful way to start a holiday for lovers! Catholicism really has a way of sticking martyrdom or guilt into everything possible, not that I'm jaded after 13 years of Catholic school at all. Nope.


But the fiance always was sure it was a trap when I said I didn't care to do anything special for Valentine's Day. You know, the whole "Oh, it's no big deal, don't get me anything" when the girl really means "For the love of God if you don't give me something I'm going to break up with you!" Not to be a downer, but wouldn't it be more fabulous if your significant other just got you something for the heck of it, some random day?


One thing Valentine's Day has for it though is the absolute preponderance of chocolate. Chocolate in every form, chocolate truffles and chocolate bars, chocolates in heart-shaped cardboard boxes, chocolates shaped into a dozen roses, wrapped in red foil... Oh yeah, that I can get behind. Which is why, although I'm not a Valentine's sorta gal, I wanted to make something for it - chocolate kisses. Baci di Cioccolato. Sounds pretty damned sexy in Italian, doesn't it? Gotta love a language where everything sounds sexy though.


These cookies are wonderfully chocolatey, slightly crumbly from almond meal, and incredibly awesome. Even without the ganache sandwiching two cookies together that Gina DePalma suggests as traditional. But you see, I didn't have the oomph to whip up ganache and pipe little dollops on half the cookies so I could make little sandwich cookies, for one very good reason. I inexplicably decided that the correct amount of dough per cookie was a 1/2 teaspoon. A level half teaspoon. Do you want to know how many cookies I got from my half batch? SEVENTY. No way was I patiently dotting 35 little bitty cookies with ganache, sandwiching them, and then shoehorning something so they didn't tip and squish or slide anywhere.


But hey, maybe you guys are a bit nicer than I am. But seriously, after making 70 teensy weensy cookies, my eyes were crossing, my lower back hurt, it felt like the cookies were breeding, and the last thing I wanted to do was anything other than just eating them. Immediately. (I'd wait until they cool though, because they are very tender and crumbly until they've cooled.)

So make them for your Valentine. Just don't go and tell them the story of Saint Valentine. It's a bit of a downer.


Baci di Cioccolato

Adapted from Dolce Italiano by Gina DePalma

For the cookies

1/2 cup almond meal
1 Tbsp sugar, plus more for rolling
1 1/2 cups plus 1 Tbsp flour
1/3 cup unsweetened Dutch process cocoa
1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup confectioners' sugar
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 Tbsp dark rum (I stole some from the fiance's stash after his Christmas trip to Jamaica)

To make the cookies: Cream together the butter and confectioners' sugar until creamy and light, about 2 minutes. Beat in the vanilla extract and rum and scrape down the sides of the bowl. Beat in the dry ingredients, followed by the almond meal. Chill dough for about 1 hour, until it is firm enough to handle.

Preheat the oven to 325*F. Lightly grease two baking sheets or line them with parchment paper. Using a half teaspoon measure, portion out the dough. Roll each piece into a ball and roll it in graulated sugar. Repeat with the rest of the dough, placing the cookies 1/2 inch apart.

Bake the cookies, rotating the sheets 180 degrees to ensure even browning, until they are puffed and cracking slightly on top, 9-11 minutes. Allow the cookies to cool on the sheets for 1 or 2 minutes, then use a spatula to remove them gently to a wire rack to cool completely. Be careful during transfer, because they are still quite delicate.

Makes approximately 140 itsy bitsy cookies.

The cookies can be stored, layered between sheets of parchment paper, in an airtight container kept in a cool place for up to 3 days.