Reporter's Table: Mmm...the tastiest lemon cookies ever

By Helen Klein

Tangy and fragrant, lemon cookies have a special savor that always entices.

In particular, my family and I were enamored of my friend Gill’s lemon bars, incredibly buttery yet not sating, which graced her table each year during a Christmas Eve party that we always attended.

Several years ago, I asked her for the recipe, and have since made them mine, as well.
Easy to whip up -- they require a juicer, a pair of measuring cups and a baking pan, and can be mixed with a whisk -- the lemon bars have become mainstays at my home. In fact, I usually double and sometimes even triple the recipe, bake them, and watch them disappear.

The ones I made for this column were no exception. Riffs on the original recipe, one batch was flavored with limes, the other with a Meyer lemon, which is less tart than a standard lemon. I made the cookies Monday night. By Wednesday evening, only crumbs -- and a debate as to which version was better -- remained.

The Meyer lemon was interesting to work with. With a gleaming, almost fluorescent yellow peel, it is softer to the touch than regular lemons, probably because the peel is thinner. The fragrance was also unusual -- herbal, almost grassy, as the juices were squeezed from the fruit.

The complexity of the flavor belies the simplicity of the preparation. The recipe is forgiving, too. Once, I almost forgot the baking powder, and actually stirred it in after I’d spread the batter in the pan. No problem -- the lemon bars were good as ever when they emerged from the oven.

As to which flavor was preferred, my daughter and I like tart flavors and found that the lime version more to our palate. My husband liked the Meyer lemon version, and my son said he preferred the original lemon recipe. And, I’m looking forward to further experimentation -- tangerines, perhaps, or blood oranges, whose blushing fruit I’m hoping will give the cookies a pleasingly pink tinge.

LEMON BARS
Adapted from The Cranks Recipe Book, by David Canter, Kay Canter and Daphne Swann (J.M. Dent & Sons, Ltd, 1982)
8 Tbl (1 stick) unsalted butter
¾ cup, plus 1 Tbl sugar
1 lemon or 2 limes, zested and juiced
1 extra-large egg
1 cup unbleached white flour
1½ tsp double-acting baking powder

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour a non-stick cake pan (7-8” square, though a rectangular pan with similar volume will also work).

Melt butter and ¾ cup sugar together over low heat till melted. This can be done in a microwave in a large glass measuring cup, checking every 20 seconds and stirring as necessary. Stir in grated citrus zest, and set aside.

Beat egg in small measuring cup; add it to sugar and butter, which should have cooled somewhat, and beat together till blended. Add flour and baking powder, folding till combined.

Pour batter into pan, and bake 25-30 minutes, turning back to front after 15 minutes, till a cake tester comes out clean. The top of the cake should be golden, and the batter completely set. (If it cooks too quickly, and is beginning to burn but is not done inside, the cake can be tented with aluminum foil.)

Once done, remove from oven and prick surface with a fork at regular intervals, then set aside.
Heat the remaining sugar and citrus juice together till sugar is dissolved, then pour the resulting syrup over the cake.

Cool in pan. Cut into squares or bars (a pizza wheel works well for this) once the cake has cooled.
Depending on how large you make the bars, you can get as few as nine or as many as 20.

Helen Klein cooks out of her Flatbush kitchen, where she trades her pen and pad for a wooden spoon and whisk. She has been cooking since the age of 16, when she made a batch of spritz cookies in her mother’s Madison area apartment. Neither the culinary universe nor her figure has been the same since.