Dawn Casale - One Girl Cookies: Recipes for Cakes, Cupcakes, Whoopie Pies, and Cookies from Brooklyns Beloved Bakery

Copyright 2012 by One Girl Cookies Ltd.
Photographs copyright 2012 by Iain Bagwell

All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
www.clarksonpotter.com

CLARKSON POTTER is a trademark and POTTER with colophon is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Casale, Dawn.
One girl cookies / Dawn Casale and David Crofton. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Includes index.
1. Cookies. 2. Desserts. I. Crofton, David. II. Title.
TX772.C3822 2012
641.8654dc22 2011008911

eISBN: 978-0-307-95324-7

v3.1

For our families, who have taught
us the joys of the table

And for Nate, who will
soon learn them too

Some would call it a love story. We like to think of it as an alignment of the stars and just something that was meant to be. It goes like this

As clich as it may sound, I was destined to make a living in the world of foodeven though I started my career in fashion. I have witnessed firsthand my entire life how food can bring great joy to both the cook and the eater. The joys of sharing a table together have always been clear to me but in a somewhat subconscious way. I just took for granted that all families were like mine. It took my going out into the big city of New York, getting a job in fashion retail, and meeting people from all walks of life to realize that this just wasnt the case. And it finally dawned on me that I wanted to share my love of food with others for a living.

I will begin by saying that I come from a Sicilian family. For some people, that might be enough said. But for those who dont know a family like mine, it would suffice to say that just about every meal is a feast. I do not lie when I say that my lunchbox contained courses. Or that our afternoon snack was often lemony madeleines straight from the oven, almost too hot to touch. And it is also true that my mother is an extraordinary cook and hostess, and her mothermy grandmother Nanawas the same. So I learned what I know about food through osmosis. My fondest memories involve family parties and all of the traditional foods we shared.

So after several years of peddling pretty baubles as the accessories manager at Barneys New York, I had the moment. The lightbulb lit up, the sirens sounded, and I was ready. Fueled by encouragement from friends and family, I started One Girl Cookies. I was ready to venture down a path paved with butter and flour and sugar, and I had never been happier.

I called it One Girl because thats exactly what it was. Me. Moi. Mixing it, baking it, packing it, delivering it. The it being pretty little cookies. I had been so used to working with pretty little things that I couldnt imagine doing it any differently. Small, because, who needs more? Big desserts are such a commitment. To me, it was so much better to flirt with all kinds of flavors. A chocolate cookie first. A nutty one next. Followed by a bit of fruit. Who says you cant have it all? Rubbish.

I tested, tried, and tasted all kinds of yummy things. Some were my own creations and others family recipes passed down through several generations of Sicilians. I was in nirvana. I spent every moment of every day mixing, folding, rolling, cutting, and baking. I quickly remembered that very unique smell of butter and sugar being creamed together. I delighted in stirring bubbling caramel until my arm grew numb. I became giddy each time I plunged my hands into the velvety dough, took hold of the pin, and began rolling. And I finished each day eager to fill my buildings hallways with the heady aromas of freshly baked cookies all over again.

The cookies and I had developed such an intimate relationship that it just seemed plain wrong to not give them a proper name. And so I did. Lucia, Lana, Penelope, Miranda, Susanna, and Juliette were born to bring happiness into the world. Lucia, named in honor of my great-grandmother, was a layer bar comprised of buttery shortbread, espresso-spiked homemade caramel, and swirls of bittersweet and white chocolatesnot just another pretty face, undeniably decadent as well. The spiciest of the bunchwith candied and powdered ginger plus cinnamon and nutmeghad a natural, no-frills way about it, so the moniker Susanna seemed most fitting.

Since Barneys had been my training ground for how to make things look aesthetically pleasing, the way I was packaging my treats was no less important to me than how they tasted. My idea was to create something that was a tribute, an homage of some sort, to my family, who taught me that food is far more than nourishment for the body. Food feeds the soul. And a well-fed soul is a happy soul. Beyond that, a meal is a way to share time together. And no meal could be deemed delicious unless an outpouring of love was involved in creating it. As a result, foods steeped in tradition were, and still are, a big part of what we eat when we are together. For Christmas Eve, seven fishes are served, representing the seven sacraments. I look forward to the celebration all year because seafood would be my choice for a last supper, and Christmas Eve is the All Star Game for shrimp, mussels, squid, and other creatures from the sea. For Easter, sweet and creamy grain pie and a panettone-like bread embedded with colored hard-boiled eggs is served for dessert. I dont think anyone questions these menu choices, because they are not really choices. Its the way its been done for generations and these dishes are as much a part of their respective holidays as Santa and the Easter Bunny are. My personal history has been filled with traditions like this, and my life would never be the same without them. For reasons like this, my relationships with my family and with food are so intertwined. What better way to recognize that than by adorning my boxes of cookies with photos of them?

The photographs themselves tell a story. One is of my paternal grandmother (Nanny) and her sister. They are in their late twenties and clearly ready for a special occasion, decked out in fancy hats, coats, and red lipstick. One of my favorites is an ironic one of my maternal grandmother, Nana, always a jokester, peering very sternly out the window of their Brooklyn apartment. The appeal is that these photographs could just as easily tell someone elses story. My customers saw their own family on the boxes and the cookies that filled them were reminiscent of the Christmas cookie platter they shared at their gathering.