Mexican Chocolate Cookies . . . Daringly delicious

At this time of year visions of sugar plums and baking cookies drift through one’s mind.  Would anyone notice if I don’t bake short bread cookies this year?  Do I really want to make three kinds of biscotti for the cookie exchange party?   If you desire to bake something completely different.  A recipe that is decidedly off the beaten path.  This cookie recipe will have you singing Jingle Bells all the way to your kitchen.

If I was to rate  MEXICAN CHOCOLATE COOKIES I would give it the highest rating.  Definitely a 10!The unusual combination of bittersweet chocolate mellows the heat of black and red pepper and creates a cookie with a flavour that is out of this world.  The cookie is both crisp and chewy.   For a final ying and yang flavour your sprinkle a little Malden salt over the little darlings.  If the salt seems a little daring dust your cookies with a little powdered sugar.  Or both.  The recipe awaits you in MRS.BUTTERFINGERS kitchen.

I love this comment from a discerning cookie consumer.    She would have me flying through the night delivering these rather outrageously wonderful creations.

“Dear Mrs. Butterfingers,

You made it sound impossible to live without tasting a few from your Mexican Chocolate delights. That being the case, I feel it only fair that you consider filling your linen lined basket with these yin and yang specialties,  flying throughout the night, while stopping to enter  the  homes of others through open windows, key holes, balconies, or whatever suits for I am loathe to think of such a delivery occurring differently in our fantasy land.  Let it be your magical mystery tour.

I wonder what one leaves to treat the the cookie faerie…….  I expect you would be drawn to bits of french ephemera, exotic spices , rich fabrics and books of poetry. If I knew you were taking flight, samples of each could be  found in a basket that awaits return to you. Enter as you will but I shall be waiting, even if in the arms of Morpheus for I know the faerie often enters under the cover of night”







Oswald, gentleman rabbit, stamped the snow off his rather generous feet.  Brushed the ice crystals from his whiskers.   Shook the snow off his coat.   Everything was in place for the grand party.  Rabbits from far and wide would be arriving  at the burrow to celebrate the winter solstice.


He reached deep into the large pocket of his magic coat.  The fragrant smell of cedar and fir, spruce and pine filled the room.  He had traveled the world and gathered every type of tree.  The tree roots were wrapped in burlap tied round with holly and ivy vines.  Trees of every size circled the room.  Touched the ceiling.  Sparkled with diamonds of glittering snow.


Again into the pocket of the  magic coat.  Oswald drew out big hampers marked F & M – Fortnum and Mason.  Purveyors of the finest delicacies in London.  The large wicker containers held:


Magnificent vegetable patés,  Terrines of leeks and spinach.

Carrot and ginger pudding.

A special winter treat salads of delicate butter lettuce, and dandelion greens.

Mounds of ruby-red radishes and emerald-green asparagus.

Golden persimmons and scarlet pomegranates.


From pale green boxes he filled crystal bowls with sweet treasures from Ladurée.


Rich dark chocolate truffles and puckery  lemon tarts.

Raspberry,  pistachio, lemon, hazelnut  macarons that crumbled and melted away on tiny rabbit tongues.

All washed down with copious amounts of elderberry wine.

Rabbits have a sweet tooth and so love to indulge.



The evening was coming to an end.  The room became quiet, very quiet.  From the top most branch of the tallest tree came a glorious sound, a single bird singing.     A lark ascending.  The Christmas bird sang of peace, joy, compassion and happiness. One by one from the surrounding trees more bird song.   Soaring, climbing higher and higher until the very earth around the burrow  became a cathedral of song.

Midnight.  The candles sputtered.  The guests memories. Oswald filled the large pockets of his magic coat with the forest of trees.  He would plant these trees on  clear-cut  hills and create new forests.  He would plant trees along highways and roads.  He would plant trees in the cites on barren boulevards and deserted vacant lots.

His work finished he slipped his watch into the small pocket and became part of the dark.   In the morning  those who lived above ignored  the trees.  They did not see them.    They believed the trees had always been there.


Now my darlings, sleep tight and dream of sugar plums and all things wonderful.