Grandma's Lebkuchen

A spicy, sassy, old-world recipe that is the best you'll ever try.

(No idea what lebkuchen is? Check out the bottom of the post)

In a fit of sentimentality I made my mother lebkuchen a few years ago. I had some Hallmark-inspired nonsense in my head of evoking childhood Christmases* for her. I made her a batch from the Joy of Cooking and watched as she took her first bite.

It’s important to note here that my mother was an exceedingly well-mannered, polite person, and she loved my cooking. So I was a tad taken aback when the lady took a bite, chewed, thought, then put the remaining lebkuchen down on the plate and said: “These aren’t right. They aren’t like my mother’s.” She went home and left the remaining lebkuchen with us.

Two days later an envelope arrived, addressed in her perfect mid-century penmanship. Inside was a photocopy of her mother’s lebkuchen recipe (written in my grandma’s perfect Edwardian penmanship), with just one word written in my mother’s hand: “Real!”

So, here are real Lebkuchen, c/o of my Grandma Madeleine Zeman of Park Avenue, New York City.

GRANDMA ZEMAN’S REAL LEBKUCHEN

What You’ll Need:

8 ounces finely chopped blanched almonds

1 pound dark brown sugar

4 whole eggs

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1-2 teaspoons orange zest

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

For the glaze:

1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar

1/2 teaspoon (packed) orange zest

2 Tablespoons cream (alternatively: water, calvados, Grand Marnier, brandy)

What You’ll Do:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Grease a 9 x 9-inch baking pan for thick, brownie-like lebkuchen, or a 9 x 13-inch pan for a thinner, slightly more traditional cookies.

2. Grind the almonds in a hand-held grinder (if you’re my grandma), or in a food processor, until finely ground. Do not substitute almond flour.

3. In a large bowl, beat the four eggs with a fork until creamy. Add the ground almonds, brown sugar, orange zest, cinnamon, cloves and ginger and mix with a wooden spoon until well-blended.

4. Add the flour and baking powder and mix until just blended.

5. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and spread it evenly.

6. If using a 9 x 9 pan, bake at 400 degrees F for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 degrees and continue baking until a toothpick comes out clean, about 10 to 15 more minutes, depending on your oven. A 9 x 13 pan usually bakes in 15-20 minutes at 400 degrees.

7. While the lebkuchen is cooling on a rack, make the glaze: Mix 1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar with 2 tablespoons liquid, and the orange zest until creamy. Spread the glaze over the still-warm lebkuchen.

8. If you want make it look just like my mom did, sprinkle multi-colored non-pareils over the top.

9. If you baked yours in a 9 x 13-inch pan, cut the lebkuchen once the glaze sets.

Lebkuchen will keep until next Christmas if stored in a cold place. I’m kind of kidding. It’s definitely a cookie that gets more flavorful after a few days, however.

For chewy, brownie-like lebkuchen, bake in a 9 x 9-inch pan and cut into small squares when ready to serve.

For a crun-chewier lebkuchen experience, bake it in the 9 x 13 pan and cut once the glaze sets.

Store well-wrapped in the freezer or a cool place until ready to serve. These ship very well. But, so do bricks.

What in the heck in the world is Lebkuchen?

Lebkuchen is one of the oldest Christmas cookies. It’s origins date to the Middle Ages, when all the spices found in lebkuchen—clove, cinnamon, ginger—became popular in recipes for feast days, for all but the poorest. Even Hildegarde of Bingen, that wonder-nun of the early Medieval period used sugar for medicine and baking. (Note to Netflix: Someone needs to do a mini series based on her life). Space and time prevent me from going deep into the history of spices, but I promise to follow on with this story.

And then there’s the history of the Christmas cookie tradition, which is a whole story in itself to get to. Suffice it to say, the reason we eat gingerbread-like things at Christmas dates back to the Middle Ages. Apparently, Monty Python was wrong, the Middle Ages was about more than rats on a stick.

*indeed, my NYC-Ethical-Culture-German-Jewish mother grew up celebrating Christmas to the hilt—as I still do now.

Did you grow up eating lebkuchen? Did your family have a must-have spice cookie in its Christmas cookie repetoire? LMK in the comments.