As I mentioned in a previous post, I rely heavily on the Washington Post annual cookie section for my Christmas cookie baking, and this year I picked out Boozey Chocolate Bites. The recipe calls for melted butter and chocolate, vanilla, a very small amount of flour, and, of course, bourbon. They were delectable, and it was impossible to stop at one, but they were not touching my soul, as my mother’s bourbon balls had growing up. My sisters and I would sneak as many as we could and then pretend we were tipsy. It was great Christmas fun.
The next day, I texted my mom (she has just recently started texting) and asked her for her recipe. I wondered if I should instruct her on taking a photo of the recipe and texting it back. I knew in my heart she would copy it all down in an email (Edwin joked, “Nana will probably type it out on a typewriter and then mail it to you” – snarky, but not totally out of the question). Sure enough, a day later, I got an email with her typed directions. She had found the recipe in the old flowered family recipe binder, scrawled on an index card. Side note: our neighbor, who had been in a rock band in her youth, gave it to her before she became a born again Christian and never touched bourbon again. Side, side note: she stopped speaking to my mom when she declined to join her on her spiritual journey.
As I skimmed the recipe, I realized what had been missing: vanilla wafers! Luckily, Edwin went on a walk to CVS today and was able to pick up an overpriced box for me. So, tonight: the original bourbon balls, bourbon balls 1.0.
My Corner of the Village 