Mrs. Ryan's Mocha Logs

And the power of family recipes

Proust had his madeleines.

I have my recipe collections. There is my Grandma Zeman’s wooden box of index cards, written in her elaborate Edwardian script. I’ve my Grandma Jenni’s tattered notebook she brought from Austria with her, recipes written in soft pencil lead and quietly disappearing. My mom’s sturdy blue binder, purchased some time in the early 1970s, is perfectly organized by recipe type and is a blend of handwritten recipes of friends from long-gone jobs, recipes that were a success at a dinner party (how many of you have a recipe for a spinach-artichoke casserole?), and back of the box wonders (such as the still-winning Baker’s One-Bowl Brownie recipe).

Me? I have at least 4 of my own binders. A few would get an A+ from my mom with each recipe organized by type and slipped into a plastic sleeve to protect it from stains. The rest of the recipes, some on the backs of envelopes, others scribbled on old meeting memos and a host of them on actual yellowing newsprint, bulge out of a pink notebook as if curated by a demented raccoon.

Digging through that notebook is more of a “this is your life” exercise than any autobiography I could write. Acquaintances who might otherwise have drifted into the fog of time remain with their recipe for Chinese-style peanut butter noodles (from someone I think named Ann at college), a scone recipe from a dear friend of my mother’s who did yoga well into her 90s and then there are Mrs. Duffy’s chocolate-sherry bars, which blew my tender teenage mind when I ate them—one after another—sitting in her split-level house across from the Catholic cemetary. (I couldn’t imagine walking out of the house and facing the reality of D-E-A-T-H as you got in the car to go to work every day, but I digress.)

Today’s recipe is from long ago, but luckily, I’m still besties with Liz, who gave it to me. The mocha logs are her mother’s: “Mrs Ryan” as she’s identified herself on the recipe card. Sadly, Mrs. Ryan died this year, after a good, long life. Her long life is a blessing and a fact, but it doesn’t take away the sadness of her passing.

I suspect Mrs. Ryan would rather we enjoyed ourselves as we ate these cookies instead of mourning her. But it won’t keep the friendly ghosts of the past from lingering. And I for one, am grateful for their presence.

Mrs. Ryan’s Mocha Logs

A crunchy, delicately coffee-flavored cookie that’s dipped in chocolate and rolled in pecans. Makes 6 1/2 dozen

NOTE: As written, these cookies require a cookie press. If you don’t have a cookie press, you can just roll out the dough and cut it into shapes.

What You’ll Need:

1 cup butter (or margarine, as Mrs. Ryan adds)

3/4 cup sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons instant coffee powder

1/2 teaspoons salt

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

For the dip:

8-10 ounces semisweet chocolate

1 teaspoon flavorless oil

Pecans, finely chopped

What You’ll Do:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

2. In a small bowl, add the flour, coffee powder, baking powder and salt and whisk until blended.

3. With a hand or stand mixer, cream the butter and sugar together until fluffy, about 2 minutes.

4. Beat in the egg and vanilla, until incorporated.

5. Gradually blend the dry ingredients into the creamed mixture.

6. Line baking sheets with parchment. Using the star plate of a cookie press, form dough into strips about 2 1/2 inches long and place on cookie sheets. (Alternately, you can roll the dough out onto a lightly dusted wooden board and use a cookie cutter to shape.)

7. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until just firm and ever-so-slightly coloring. You do not want to burn these guys—which can happen in a wink, or say, if you fall down a rabbit hole on a really nice online Japanese housewares shop and…. well, you get the idea.

8. Let cool on racks.

9. Melt the chocolate and the oil (to add a little shine) over a double-boiler or in the microwave (Remember: blast for 1 minute, stir, then 30 seconds, then stir, then only 10 second intervals until almost melted. Then stir, stir, stir to finish melting.)

10. Dip one end of the cookie into the chocolate and roll in nuts, if desired. Make sure chocolate is fully solid before packing the cookies away.

What recipes do you make that conjure memories? Let me know in the comments.