#26 Curled Wafers 1963

Pizzelle, round and rolled--I finally got the hang of the shaping.

I can imagine the conversation in the Gourmet Magazine office when the bakers wanted to publish this recipe.

"The only problem is: What can we call these?"

"Right. Nobody can pronounce 'Krumkake,' let alone 'Pizzelle.'

"Just Americanize it. They look like curled wafers."

"Done."

In the throes of the Cold War, I guess readers weren't expected to accept a foreign name for their cookies. These cookies come from everywhere but here--Norway, Italy, Germany. Credit where it's due, I say.

Now, picture a San Francisco flat about the time this recipe was published. My mother's cousin, Maria Crosetti, could always be found with a project in the kitchen, even in her eighties. I called her "Mud-EE-ah" because I didn't grasp the gentle tongue-flip of the "r" in the Italian version of her name. I was 9.

The day of our visit, she made pizzelle on her two-sided iron, one at a time. To evenly tan each cookie on both sides, she grasped the long handles to flip the waffle-like iron with batter inside. A minute later, she gently lifted the pliable wafer off the iron, rolled the perfect circle into a cylinder, and set it on her wooden board to cool. Then, she grabbed a cooled pizzelle, and leaned down to offer it to me, nose to nose.

The Gourmet recipe makes a runny batter due to
the addition of water.

"You like?" she said in her broken English, after 60 years in this country. I can still smell the almondy scent. Her version contained anise seed, a traditional flavoring.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. I brought home the pizzelle iron I bought on my last trip to Oakland. It is electric, makes two pizzelle at a time, and the "waffle" designs are just as decorative as the older iron styles. Not bad for $10 on Craig's list.

"Practice" pizzelle, some too light, some too dark, some
rolled too late. The one at the bottom, perfetto.

The Gourmet recipe adds only vanilla for flavoring, and because it is a bit heavy on eggs (3 eggs per cup of flour) compared to other online recipes I've found (2 eggs per cup of flour), it makes a "fluffy" pizzelle. Their crisp exteriors give way to a softer inside. Although lovely off the grill, like ultra-thin waffles, they soften overnight in a sealed container. I thought they would stay crisp, and they should have. I'm still apologizing to my knitters gathering for the soggy pizzelle I bought to share with them.

My next batch took flavor inspiration from one of many recipes that individuals nominated as the best pizzelle recipe ever. Heavier on flavorings--I used almond extract, orange and lemon zest--the floral scents came through. This one produced a stiffer dough, but it spread out just the same into a round wafer.

Did they stay crisp overnight? Couldn't tell you. I hear pizzelle flavors blend and improve after a few days, too. Can't say about that either. Between my husband and friends (OK, me, too), I had none left to test at the end of the day.

I'll be making more in the coming weeks.

The original Gourmet Cookie Book recipe is here.