Rainbow Cookies

From Greenpointers, Recipe: Rainbow Cookies

I've had this recipe for Rainbow Cookies on my fridge since last year and decided to make it. Working my first job as a counter girl at an Italian bakery in Queens and accepting collect calls from the grumpy bakery owner's son, who was in jail for idiotic low-level racketeering, gave me have a distaste for Italian pastries, with the exception of a few things: Pignoli Cookies, Rainbow Cookies & Cannolis (but only the cannolis that the nuns from the San Carlo monastery on Erice, a medieval mountain town in Sicily make. God is in them.) The rest of the Italian pastries can burn in hell.

Rainbow Cookies are pretty pricey per pound and if you're going to buy them around Brooklyn I would recommend Fortunata Brother's on Manhattan & Devoe.

Making the rainbow cookies seemed pretty pricey, too. It didn't help that I had to buy 3 half sheet pans at $15 a pop from The Brooklyn Kitchen, plus 4 tubes of Almond Paste at $8 a pop! I definitely came home grumpy.

"I should have just bought them at the bakery," I said as I laid the ingredients on the counter. But the process and the end result were worth it, plus we got between 150-200 cookies out of it.

I cut the recipe out of New York Magazine from the chef of Torrisi Italian Specialties, a great Italian restaurants down on Mulberry, the walls lined with Manhattan Special: my favorite drink, espresso soda.

If you plan on making rainbow cookies, make sure you have an entire day off plus a partner with good hand-eye coordination. I am lacking in that area and Jon, who is mechanically inclined proved, to have amazing cake layering and chocolate spreading skills. Had I tried to take this endeavor solo, I assure you these cookies would not be so pretty.

When it comes down to it, "it's a lot of work, Jane," as Nonna, my Sicilian Grandma would say. There are many steps: beating the egg whites for stiff glossy peaks, splitting one batter into three for coloring, baking three cakes separately until just underdone so they stay moist, cooling the cakes then layering them using orange marmalade as glue, letting them set then spreading warm chocolate on the top and bottom. Start as early in the morning as you can.

While getting closer and closer to chocolatey soft almond cookie goodness, I was giddy. I remember saying, "this sure as hell beats last minute christmas shopping." In fact, making these cookies is what the holidays are all about: slowing down, spending time with someone you love, making something you love, then giving to people you love." These cookies put a truer smile on faces than anything you can unwrap and rip a price tag off of.

Torrisi Rainbow Cookies Recipe from New York Magazine

12 large eggs, separated

2 2/3 cups sugar

24 oz. almond paste

8 sticks butter, softened

5 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp. salt

2 tsp. red food coloring

2 tsp. green food coloring

16 oz. orange preserves, heated and strained

8 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped

Preheat oven to 350. Beat egg whites in electric mixer until they just hold stiff peaks. Add ½ cup sugar, beating until whites hold stiff, slightly glossy peaks, then refrigerate. Beat together almond paste and remaining sugar in mixer. Add butter gradually and beat until mixture is fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add yolks and beat until well combined. Reduce speed to low and add flour and salt and mix until just combined. Fold in egg whites. Divide batter equally among 3 bowls; wearing gloves,(1) whisk red food coloring into one and green into another, leaving the third batch plain. Spread each batter separately and evenly, about ¼-inch thick, onto 3 half-sheet pans, each greased and lined with parchment paper. Bake until just barely set, about 7 minutes. (2) When layers are cool, spread half the preserves onto the green layer. Invert plain layer over it and discard paper. Spread on remaining preserves, and invert red layer over it; discard paper. Wrap with plastic and top with a weighted baking pan. Refrigerate for several hours. Remove plastic and bring to room temperature. Melt chocolate in a double boiler, and (3) spread thinly on top layer. Chill in freezer briefly until firm. Cover with wax paper, place another baking sheet on top, then invert cake onto sheet pan and remove paper. Quickly spread with remaining chocolate and return to freezer until firm. Trim edges, slice, and serve.

THE EVER-ELUSIVE ORGANIZED LIFE, ENTROPY & DRY ERASE MARKERS

Becoming close to organized is a lofty goal; not a complete disaster area is more what I'm going for. It's hard. The propensity to be neat is learned and genetic. If you're OCD, God bless you. If you were taught how to properly scrub a floor and bleach fumes smell like roses to you, then you're probably 100% Sicilian.

I am not and didn't get the clean gene. My Mom says she rather had spent time with us than clean so she had a cleaning lady, Linda who is like family. I can respect that but it doesn't help me now! 

I followed suit and have a lovely cleaning person when I can afford it, and it sure helps with the nitty gritty, but organizing my life would mean she would have to climb inside my brain and do some major tweaking. And I'm just not ready for that.

It's basic physics. The Law of Entropy states that the universe naturally moves from a state of order to disorder. This can be demonstrated when I hang up all my clothes. The time it takes to organize my closet compared to the time it takes me to throw everything on the floor again when I get dressed makes cleaning seem like a waste of time. My clothes want to be in a heap on the floor; the universe tells me so.

That said, the brain feels calmer and works more effectively when things are organized. And when you have a million things to do plus a trillion loose ends to tie, lists help. It's just scary when you write: "find old list" on your new list. 

By now I would be in a mental institution if it wasn't for google tasks. 

Despite this handy tool, I have the tendency to write things on random pieces of paper then throw the papers on my desk. The desk I took so long to organize is once again a disaster. Then when a guest comes over, I just take everything on the desk and throw it into a bin. Looks clean, but it's an illusion. I do this when my laptop looks like a patchwork quilt of icons. I make a "Desktop" folder and dump everything in there. It's bliss, but just a cover up.

The new solution:  dry erase markers on my mirror. That way I can makes lists (like in google tasks): Greenpointers, Ugly Art Room, Morta Di Fame, Polo & Life. They are all in one place and right in front of me, easy to read and fun to cross off. When I think of something I don't have to open the laptop. It looks cool, too. Don't pay attention to the evil dragon in the corner.