Hazelnut Melting Moments

Whew!  Well, it took me a little longer to get to this post than anticipated.  But I’m happy to report that my stack of exams has all been marked, the final grades submitted, and all that remains of this semester are a few meetings next week.  And then: par-tay!

Come to think of it, I already hosted my first party this season (except that makes it sound as if there will be more than one, doesn’t it?), a pot luck dinner a for some friends from nutrition school. Though only two of us are vegan, everyone brought along a vegan dish. Aren’t they an amazing, open-minded crowd?  This year, in fact, almost everyone managed an ACD-friendly dish as well, so I was able to partake of almost everything.  Here’s what we feasted upon:

Appetizers:

• Roasted Red Pepper and Apple Dip with Cassava crackers
• Raw collard wraps with hummus and veggies (a HUGE hit with the guests–thanks for the inspiration, Melody!)
• Baba ganoush with rice crackers
• Veggie Pâté with rice crackers

Sides:

• Tossed baby greens with dried organic cherries
• Cous Cous salad with olives and veggies
• Greek Lemon-Roasted Potatoes (a fabulous, ultra-easy recipe that I will post about anon!)

Mains:

• Curried Lentil and Edamame Stew
• Holiday Nut Loaf (from the ACD Ebook) with Smoky Almond Gravy

Desserts:

• Chocolate Macaroons
• Sweet Potato Pie
• Marble Cake
• Hazelnut Melting Moments cookies

Herbal tea, Perrier, red wine

These Hazelnut Melting Moments (one of my contributions, and one of the foods I couldn’t eat, ironically) are my remake of a confection I used to serve all the time at dinner parties.  They speak of the holidays to me, so I figured I’d whip up a batch (well, if you heard cookies talking, could you say “no” to them?  Lucky for me I don’t hear dead people).

Way back in my 30s, I lived in a basement apartment. Of all the places I’ve lived as an adult (with the exception of the wee postwar bungalow I owned when I first met the HH), that apartment was my favorite.  Why, you ask?  Well, you know what they say: “location, location, location.”

You see, the place was situated on the venerable Heath Street in Toronto, just a hop, skip and condominium or two from the St. Clair subway and in the tony Forest Hill area of town.  The building itself was a renovated Victorian mansion; our landlady had gone to some trouble to furnish the upper three flats with marble bathroom tiles, hardwood floors, stylish light fixtures and even reverse-osmosis water filtration systems in the kitchens.

My place, on the other hand, hadn’t been upgraded a whit; it was, simply, a basement apartment, much like any other (except in the basement of a lovely old mansion in a wealthy area of town, of course). Perhaps my landlady assumed people in that part of the city wouldn’t lower themselves–no pun intended–to live in subterranean digs; whatever the reason, I couldn’t believe how affordable the place was, and leapt at the chance to move in.

It may have been a basement, with peephole-sized windows that framed pedestrians’ footwear as they trod by above; it may have been a haven for a constant procession of bugs, spiders and even the errant mouse on occasion (I’m sure you must have heard me shriek when I first spied that little rodent taking a stroll through my living room); it may have housed the furnace for the entire building in my coat closet (the other tenants regularly knocked on my door at all hours of the day or night to ask me to turn up the heat); but I loved it.  It was clean, it was roomy, and it was warm (courtesy of aforementioned furnace).

And it was the setting for many a dinner party.

These days, one event a year seems like plenty; but back then–what I now consider “The Year of Living Sociably”–I’d use any excuse to entertain. Your birthday? Let me throw you a party! Got a promotion? I’ll cook dinner for you and four friends!  Just adopted a daughter from China?  Let’s have the entire group who flew over from Canada to my place!

It was my first apartment on my own after I got divorced from the Starter Husband, and I took every opportunity to socialize.  I even held my divorce ceremony and subsequent “I’m Free!” reception there. And I hosted a “I think I’m in love” bash when the HH and I finally got together.

Like a regular guest, these Hazelnut Melting Moments made an appearance at almost every gathering (though they never stuck around to the end of the soirée).  Partway between a shortbread and a chocolate chip cookie, they are slightly sandy, buttery, with a hint of citrus.  Topped with a melty pool of chocolate that oozes and dribbles on your chin if you eat them while still warm (not that I’d have any experience with such things), they’re an indulgent treat for the season. My newfangled version, either gluten-free or not, as you like, was every bit as delicious as the original (luckily, my guests ate them all, so I wasn’t tempted).

The cookies keep well, and would make a wonderful holiday gift. Something, say, to bring along to a party.

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