#6 Apricot Chews 1966

Apricot Chews with a lightly toasted coconut topping.

"Do you want a partner in crime for this new project of yours?"

Laurel was planning a party for her 93-year-old neighbor who had moved to a retirement community. Betty had lived in Laurel's neighborhood since 1966.

"Ooh, sounds like fun. Do you know when she moved into her house, or when she was married?" I asked. "We could make cookies from those years. Can't wait till Friday."

The fruit gets jammy and sticks to the sides
of the saucepan after simmering 30 minutes.

Lucky me, I got to make another batch of the 1944 Cinnamon Sugar Crisps (see cookie # 4). Laurel's neighbor Betty was married that year. I had the dough ready to go. Laurel seemed in awe of my rolling pin and cutting techniques. I hadn't noticed before, but I'd improved. The soft dough of those crisps do have a learning curve, and I'd rolled, cut, and rerolled before. I cut the shapes and Laurel applied sprinkles.

On to the 1966 Apricot Chews. Laurel calmly stirred the apricots in a saucepan while I found the oatmeal and flour. When the fruit got dry, she poured in more apricot brandy. And when our cordial glasses got dry, she applied the same remedy.

Gently spread food-processed apricot
layer. Sprinkle rest of crumbs on top.

Press 2/3 of crumbs into pan for a firm
bottom - don't we all want a firm bottom?

The toasted coconut and glistening jam add to the appeal.

This bar is made in the layers I usually see in a great cafe that bakes its own desserts in-house, or gets them from a local baker. A crumbly flour, sugar and oats combination, bound together with butter, is pressed into the bottom of a pan. A cooked fruit layer is spread on next, and the last third or so of the crumbly mixture is patted down on top. Over the topping, a sprinkle of coconut adds lovely toasted curls and a tropical sweetness that complements the tart back-of-tongue bite and floral scent of the apricots. I was proud to send this bar to Laurel's party.

I ate three, plus the crumbs that were kind enough to flake off while cutting, and I resolved to spend an extra 15 minutes on resistance training after step aerobics Sunday morning.

I think I'm in love.

Technique: This recipe called for lining the baking pan in foil. I resisted. What with health concerns about exposure to aluminum and the tendency of the foil to scrunch into the batter, I opted for parchment paper. It lined my pan easily, allowed me to lift the whole batch of bars from the pan, and released from the cookie bottoms. Ahh, nice. And my last 30-square-foot roll of parchment paper was only $3 from the grocery store; it can be more than twice that from a specialty kitchen store.

Back to those bars you get in a cafe. What image comes to mind? I see a dessert four inches square, maybe larger. It fills a plate. If you ask, they might heat it for you and add ice cream. The apricot chews, in contrast, are made in a 9 X 9-inch pan, and the yield is 36 cookies. That means each cookie is only 1 1/2 inches square. We thought they could be cut even smaller, because they are rich and filling, and guests will want to try several other cookies at Laurel's party.

The bottom line: Portion size was much smaller in 1966. So was I.

This recipe is online here.

Sources: About aluminum and health risks: http://www.thedietchannel.com/Alzheimers-Disease.htm;
http://health.msn.com/health-topics/digestive-health/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100245197;
http://www.ehow.co.uk/list_7655852_health-risks-aluminum-coffee-makers.html;
http://www.livestrong.com/article/201752-the-effects-of-aluminum-on-the-skin/