Groundhog's Day Cookies

I believe that Groundhog Day is one of the more underrated holidays. It seems to be celebrated only in North America, and despite lending its name to a Bill Murray movie, it lacks the international recognition it so dearly deserves. Yes, a few very hip, trendy, and groundhog-aware cities do their best to drum up enthusiasm for the holiday, but, for the most part, there is a serious lack of groundhog day parties, parades, picnics, pastries, percussion performances, poetry readings, and week-long festivals devoted to the furry little weatherman. In an effort to make this holiday a little more exciting, I started the tradition of baking groundhog's day cookies and giving them to my friends. I am sure that in a year or two, everyone will be joining in and bestowing groundhog gifts, treats, and cards on family and friends. Can annual Groundhog Day dances and traditional Groundhog Day fireworks displays lighting up the chilly winter sky be far off? Groundhog Day or Candlemas is the midpoint between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It is believed that bright, clear weather on February 2nd meant 6 more weeks of winter weather. If it's gloomy and overcast, then spring is just around the corner. In Germany, hibernating hedgehogs were watched to see if they stayed out of their burrows on Candlemas or if they returned to catch a few more winks. eventually, Germans settled in hedgehog-free neighborhoods in North America. Lucky for them, the plucky woodchuck, who has always shown a great aptitude for meteorology, stepped right up to fill in the shoes of its European cousin. The next thing you know, the woodchucks have adopted the stage name of "groundhogs" and lobbied to have the name "Candlemas" changed to Groundhog Day. The rest is history. Here's how to whip up a batch of groundhog day cookies!  let me start by saying that no groundhogs are actually use in the recipe.  every holiday needs a tasty cookie! this little recipe for groundhog's day cookies is actually from my english friend judith and they are perfect to have warm during your groundhog's day festivities or winding down after a big day of groundhog's day activities. as you can see, i have assembled all that i need, 1 egg, candied fruit, flour, sugar, butter, spices, a bowl and milk. first i preheat my oven to 350 degrees (that's 190C degrees or gas mark 5).  now I get my nice shiny mixing bowl and pour in one cup of self rising flour. next i add half a teaspoon each of mixed spice and cinnamon to the flour and stir it all together. did i mention that the 4 oz of butter that i am adding has been sitting out on the kitchen table so that it is nice and soft? now i add chunks of the soft butter to my dry ingredients. you can use a spoon or a fork, but i like to rub all the butter into the flour using my hands. this is where fingers would really come in handy for me. i do this until the mixture looks like fine bread crumbs. mmmmmm! next its time for half a cup granulated sugar! see how it sparkles like snow flakes as it gently drifts down on the butter mixture. Let's discuss the candied fruit now, shall we? You can use any kind. I tend to lean heavily toward candied peel and currents with fewer or no glacé cherries, but any combination of candied fruit is just fine. Whatever you like. As I add my 4 oz of candies, fruit, and the grated rind of half a lemon, I admire the delicious jewel-toned fruit and peel. My mind is filled with thoughts of glimmering rubies, emeralds, peridot, and citrine as the fruit tumbles into the bowl. I carefully stir the mixture, then add 2 tablespoons of milk and one medium egg. i stir it one more time until all the ingredients are thoroughly combined but not smushy and smooth. The dough should be a little rough and dry-looking. I then divvy up the batter and make 6 mounds on a greased cookie sheet. Sometimes I have to taste the dough while dividing up the batter. The cakes go into the oven on the center rack for about 20 minutes or until golden brown. As the kitchen fills with the intoxicating aroma of these scrumptious little cakes, I quickly clean up the kitchen to prepare the decorations. I have printed out some nice pictures of groundhogs on a stiff cardstock, and I am now cutting around the little groundhog shapes with my trusty scissors. Now, I tape a toothpick to the back of each groundhog. Luckily, my adhesive tape privileges were recently reinstated, or I'd have to glue the toothpicks to the paper, which tends to be a little messy and could possibly contaminate my cookies with glue molecules. there! Don't these little rodents-on-sticks look lovely? They will look festive on top of the cookies or on a nice cupcake or possibly adorning the top of a hamburger bun at lunch time. The possibilities are endless, aren't they? The oven timer has buzzed, and the cookies are done! I might have baked them a minute or two too long, but they will be tasty nonetheless. Don't they look yummy? Resisting the urge to taste a piping hot cake, I transfer them to a wire rack to cool. Beware that candied fruit really holds the heat, and a nibble into a hot cookie could lead to a frantic dash to the fridge for ice water to cool a burned tongue while tears well up in your little eyes...or so I've heard. I like to serve these delectable cakes while they are still warm, so when they have cooled a bit, I transfer them to an attractive plate that I will serve my guests from. Now, with a sweeping and elegant gesture, I place a groundhog on the top of each cookie. I then execute a little dance of joy among the cookies, taking care not to fall off the plate. hmmm... this cookie won't fit on the plate. i guess i need to taste it now. mmm... crispie on the outside and moist and tasty with the correct peel-to-fruit ratio. perfection! These cakes are good anytime of year, not just Groundhog Day! I think the final presentation is spectacular, don't you? The cookies look just like burrows with the proud and majestic groundhog emerging into the sun to display his meteorological prowess. monkey's quick guide to forecasting the weather using a groundhog. Hop out of bed in the predawn hours. Make sure you have had a good, hearty breakfast (possibly a nice hot porridge and some fruit or toast and jam). Wearing nice warm clothing is always a good idea. Then drop by the home of a groundhog, woodchuck, or hedgehog before the slightest ray of sun begins to peek over the horizon. All the respectable woodchucks, hedgehogs and groundhogs I know are not available to make a guest appearance here today. They are hibernating for the winter, so, I am using one of my delicious groundhog's day cookies to represent the groundhog's burrow and the attractive groundhog decoration on top to represent the little weather prognosticator. My trusty yellow flashlight will be representing the sun, and my kitchen counter will be representing the groundhog's natural habitat. Just as the sun comes up, listen carefully. Amid the waking bird songs, you will hear the faint echo of the groundhog's alarm clock going off. After he has brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and taken his morning vitamins (but before he has had his breakfast), the groundhog (woodchuck or hedgehog) will groggily lumber from his burrow. he will move rather slowly and possibly grumble a bit. Most groundhogs are not morning people, so, for your own good, do not try to engage them in conversation. If our faithful weatherman finds the sky overcast and somber, he'll decide that it is not such a bad morning to stop hibernating. He'll turn on NPR or the BBC to catch up on the news while checking his e-mail before he takes a leisurely walk to his favorite cafe. While enjoying a delicious light breakfast of tea, toast, and fresh fruit salad with creme fraiche, he relaxes with a copy of The New York Times. He'll pick out a couple of gallery openings or shows he wants to catch now that he's done hibernating and make a list of friends to reconnect with. This surely means that spring is on the way, and his social calendar will be quickly filling up. If he emerges from his warm little habitat to a blindingly bright day to see his shadow, he will immediately shield his eyes with the darkest sunglasses and find the nearest diner. He'll chow down on eggs, sausage, grits, bacon, biscuits, hash browns, toast, and jam, and/or maybe a cinnamon bun, decaf coffee, and orange juice while skimming a copy of USA Today. After a brisk walk home, he slides into a breakfast-induced lethargy that culminates in staggering to the bedroom and flopping on the bed for just a quick nap, only to wake up a month and a half later, fully clothed and confused about where he was the night before. This indicates 6 more weeks of winter.