Santa’s Favorites Anise Flavored Christmas Cookies

These crisp, red-and-green-sugar-sprinkled bells, stockings and trees were not just my family’s favorite dessert in the weeks leading up to Christmas – they were also Santa’s favorite – at least that’s what my two brothers and I surmised from how Santa polished off the plate of Noels and glass of milk we left in the living room for him every Christmas Eve.

Our love for Noel cookies did not stop when we found out who was really eating them – but continued through our teens and into our young adulthoods, when we discovered that Noels tasted even better with coffee than with milk.

“Do you have the cookies?” was always one of the first things my brother Vern and I asked after our drive to our hometown of Cumberland, R.I., from some or other Noel cookie-less wasteland where we landed our first jobs — the cookies being a guaranteed sweetener when conversation soured between the generations.

A box of the cookies was also a standard part of the gift box my mother sent my other brother, Doug, in Los Angeles. Over the years, the design of the box morphed from its original expensive green foil to plain green, and later, to decorated white cardboard; and the name of the cookies changed from Educator Noel to Burry Jingles. This created more than one Noel cookie scare before my Mom, with the help of one or another friendly supermarket manager, picked up the anise scent again.

Until Christmas 1997, when my Mom greeted me at the door waving a box of Jingles cookies made by Keebler. “They look like Jingles but there’s no anise flavor,” she said with disappointment. “They’re imposters.”

Real Jingles/Noel cookies were nowhere to be found that Christmas, or the next, or the one after that. For the first time, I could understand the appeal of those corny holiday Currier and Ives and Norman Rockwell paintings for older Americans whose own icons of Christmas were similarly long gone.

How could we have been so stupid as to entrust our most cherished holiday tradition to a profit-driven corporation?, I wondered aloud over more than one of our Noel-less family holiday feasts.

Fast-forward to late November 2010 when, on a kick to give “meaningful” presents (i.e. light on cash), I literally decided to take matters into my own hands by baking a batch of homemade anise-flavored sugar cookies and set out on the web in search of a recipe.

Googling “recipe Jingles anise cookies” yielded not the hoped-for recipe but the Noel/Jingle cookie motherlode: a blog entry by Chicago ex-pat “Poofygoo” (Poofygoo?)  lamenting her inability to find this cookie in her new D.C. home. This was followed by more than 50 responses posted over a span of five years, echoing Poofygoo’s Jingles’ love and longing, and offering hope in the form of Jingle cookie sightings.

“I just called the local Dominick’s and they say … they have the Jingles,” said Katie, after another Chicago resident reported buying some from that supermarket chain. “We’re out the door …”

Not only was my family not alone in our feelings about this cookie, we were not as pathetically bereft as the anonymous poster who confessed to pouring anise oil over some  of Keebler’s faux Jingles and sealing them up in a container in hopes they would soak up the crucial missing flavor.

Like most of the other commenters, this woman was from Greater Chicago. Educator and Burry were apparently not the only regional cookie companies to make and sell what Chicago-area cookie expert Connie Meisinger characterizes as “an Americanized version of popular European anise-flavored cookies like the Swedish springerle and the Italian pizzelle.” So did Salerno in Chicago, upstate New York and some other parts of the Midwest — although during their brief period owning Salerno in the 1990s, Keebler snagged the rights to the Jingles name for their plain-sugar imposter. This caused Salerno to rename their anise-flavored cookie Santa’s Favorites, according to one poster who claimed insider information.

Alas, the Poofygoo denizens reported no Santa’s Favorites sightings in New England or my current home state of Pennsylvania. But they did give me a place to start. A computer search on the Maurice Lenell company, briefly mentioned on the forum, yielded not just a reference to its Jingles-like holiday anise sugar cookie but to a Lenell company mail order store. But, I found out on one emotional roller-coaster of a day, that they were already sold out of their anise cookies for the season.

Several 2007 Poofygoo posters reported purchasing Santa’s Favorites from Hometown Favorites, a mail order company specializing in hard-to-find grocery products, but the customer service rep I reached had never heard of them.

The Poofygoo posts make it easy to believe that the U.S. Postal Service is being single-handedly kept alive by the care packages of Santa’s Favorites that are daily criss-crossing the country to meet Chicago ex-pats’ Jingle cookie cravings, I, alas, have no friends and relatives living in Jingleland, and had no success bribing any of dozens of employees of Midwestern supermarkets sited on Poofygoo into mailing me some.

And while Salerno’s current owner, Snyder’s-Lance, has many nationally distributed food products, Lance has “no plans to expand the (geographic) footprint previously in place for Santa’s Favorites,” company spokeswoman Heather Woolford told me.

I called Woolford to find out where Jingles were now sold but also in the secret hope that she might offer to send a Jingles-hungry journalist some boxes. No such luck with that or with my concluding plea that former Noel cookie eaters in New England represented a huge missed sales opportunity for her company.

Down to crumbs ideawise, and facing the unpleasant prospect of having to go with my original plan and drag out the baking pans, I decided to take a flyer on the online destination of desperation —  eBay. I typed “Santa’s Favorites” — and what to my wondering eyes did appear but a “Buy-It-Now” listing for a case of Salerno Santa’s Favorites Anise Flavored Christmas Cookies. It was offered by Buffalo-area snack food distributor Jason Sardina, who exploits Jingles love by selling cases of the cookies online in a thiving holiday side-business. (Wise up, slacker Midwestern supermarket employees!)

His savvy description, noting that the cookies, “formerly known as Jingles,” are “only available in select areas and are a must for the holidays,” snagged him orders from more than 50 Jingle lovers all over the country last year, including me.

Two weeks and one hefty Paypal payment later, I was eating my first commercial anise sugar cookie in almost two decades. It was smaller and the holiday shapes, no longer embossed, but, in the most important way, taste, they are exactly the same.

“A Christmas memory” is the way my L.A. brother put it on the phone on Christmas Day after opening one of the four boxes I’d sent.

“The ghost of Christmas past, present and future, all in one,” I responded, thinking of the trailer-load of Santa’s Favorites boxes in my freezer that promise to keep the Wymans’ Noel cookie memories alive for a very long time.

Carolyn Wyman (www.carolynwyman.com) writes about new supermarket foods in the nationally syndicated Supermarket Sampler column and is the author of multiple packaged food tomes (including “Spam: A Biography,” “Jell-O: A Biography” and “Better Than Homemade: Amazing Foods That Changed the Way We Eat”).

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Very creative welcome sign for Marini Farm (it's also near the parking entrance for the corn maze).

Our family headed out to Ipswich, Mass on opening weekend for the one and a three-quarter hour drive from our rural location in southern New Hampshire. Rather than go the most direct route, we took Rte 133 off 495 (instead of 95) which was a nice quiet drive.  The farm isn’t far from Route 1, keep in mind, though, that if you take Route 1 you’ll go right by the Topsfield Fair location (I can only imagine what this road would be like between Sept 30 – Oct 10) so use the directions from their website. After the final turn (which was well-marked with signs) and about a mile up the road, we came upon a wide-open field with a white farm house on a small knoll and lines of pumpkins on the front lawn. TIP: Don’t pull into the farm stand they won’t let you park there for more than 30 minutes. For your convenience they even post friendly guards to enforce this rule. Instead pull into the grass field just before the farm stand on the left traveling from the west.

Lines of pumpkins on the farm house's front lawn.

After a heated argument between the boys over which selection of largest and smallest pumpkins was the best we took some pictures of a cleverly designed Hay Man and then headed to the farm stand to gather supplies.

The hay man.

Out of a good variety of farm produce and locally baked goods we chose some freshly picked apples, hermits and a big bag of popcorn (I was covering all basis — after all we’re about to spend a couple hours inside a maze). Pay for your farm stand purchases here, but for the corn maze tickets you need to go to the little shack just a few steps up from the stand. Everyone here was very friendly. Besides the maze entrance fee, we also bought some tickets to the Apple Cannon and after a couple “come-on’s” from the boys we still managed to escape purchase of the “jumping pillow” tickets.

Our orientation to the corn maze came by watching a video which talks about the maze and also includes the basic rules (never pick the corn and don’t walk THROUGH the corn, stay on the paths). This year’s maze is in the shape of an American eagle.

A great view of the maze from high above.

The video also explains the activities you can do within the maze, and, in keeping with the theme, they provide activity sheets that show places for answers to questions on American history, spaces to gather rubbings of American symbols (like the Presidential Seal) and clues on navigating the maze. You’ll find all these at 18 different stations throughout the maze.

Once the video finished and we had recited the rules out loud, everyone was excited to get started. So with an orange flag in hand (in case you panic and need to leave RIGHT NOW!, you can raise your flag and a sentry will come and get you) we entered the maze.

The corn is higher than I thought. Other than the absence of a roof, it's almost like walking through a tunnel.

After about 10 minutes, the youngest was ready to be done, but I gave him the responsibility of leading the group and that afforded us another 10 minutes of interest. TIP: Don’t promise your kids a trip to the Lego store right after the corn maze.

Along the way we passed a number of families —some with dogs, as opening weekend was Doggy Maze Daze, and the rest of the season no dogs are allowed — all of whom were enjoying the adventure. Some folks we passed twice, but before I could drop my first piece to start a popcorn trail, we came upon one of several Marini Scouts who wander the maze searching for lost souls. We stopped to talk to a couple of them, and without any input from us, they each asked if we wanted to know the quickest way out. The youngest, with Star Wars Lego sets dancing in his head, immediately said yes, but I overruled him and we continued on our trek. After just 52 minutes we found our way to the end of the maze. Their website says it can take up to 2 hours – I imagine by then you’re waving the orange flag for help.

The Finish Line! Everyone had a great time at the Maze. (And visions of Lego sets danced in their heads.)

Just up the hill from the entrance to the maze you can find the Apple Cannons. Both boys really got a kick out of this activity – guns and things to shoot them at? Go figure. This time of year they don’t use Apples because it attracts bees, and, being allergic, I appreciated their thoughtfulness. Instead they used potatoes which surely didn’t make a difference to either of the boys.

A nice shot with the Apple (I mean potato) Cannon.

If you hit one of many signs you get some extra shots, however, if you make it through the mouth you win a pumpkin.

Essentials
Free parking; September 10 to October 31, 2011 – Monday, Thursday, Friday 3 pm to 6 pm – Sundays 11 am to 6 pm – Saturdays & Holidays 10 am to 6 pm

Adults (13+) – $9.50; Youth (Ages 4 to 12) – $7.50; Children Age 3 or less – Free

Directions   Additional Marini Farm Corn Maze info

More Corn Mazes in New England
We recently updated our page on Family Corn Mazes at New England’s Farms checking that these corn mazes were still in operation. Of the rest most (not all) are open through the end of October so check their individual websites before you go for times, dates, directions and details.  Link to individual corn maze websites are included on the New England Corn Mazes page.

Lyman Orchard 2011 Corn Maze offers a $1 off coupon on their Corn Maze good for the 2011 season. (As of 9/23/2011)

More Articles on Corn Mazes in New England
The Davis Mega Corn Maze in Sterling Mass from Yankee Magazine.

The post Children in the Corn: A trip to Marini Farm Corn Maze in Ipswich, Massachusetts appeared first on Yankee Magazine.

Last year, Ginny Newton and Steve Lorenz won Yankee Magazine‘s Editors’ Choice Photo Contest in 2010. To enter, you must submit a photo of an Editors’ Choice location. Each photo of a different location counts as a new entry. We were so impressed with Ginny and Steve’s enthusiasm and looked forward to see where they’d visited as they entered more images to the contest that we asked Ginny to blog about her adventures. She accepted our invitation, and what follows is a “What I Did Over Summer Vacation” photo essay. One other little note: Ginny says “er” instead of “or.” It might make her grammarian sister cringe, but we like it. So, without further delay, here’s Ginny.

Hello blog readers! I’ve never blogged, but Yankee asked, so I figured, Why not?

First, the quick history: Up until last year Yankee Magazine was something my parents read and was based in the same town as the girls’ camp I went to as a child.  I can’t tell you what got me to pick up the magazine or how I blundered across the 2010 Editors’ Choice Award (ECA) listings in the May/June issue, but I did and something sparked.

Over the last few years  Steve and I have enjoyed discovering the attractions in our own backyard.  The ECA’s helped us create our own mix of geocash-scavenger-treasure hunt.  When we are feeling adventurous, bored, or have a trip already planned, we break out the ECA’s and figure out what’s on or slightly out of our way.  Mapping is the first part of our adventure.  Using one of the online mapping programs, we plot our course, print the directions, grab the atlas and off we go!  As I am the girl behind the camera Steve became the guy in front of the camera and for the folks at Yankee Magazine we became their version of “Where’s Waldo” er “Steve-o” in our case.

Here are some highlights from our 2010 adventuring:

Our very first destination, Stoney Ledge on Mount Greylock in Williamstown, Massachusetts, was a bit of a jump into the deep end.  It was only a mile er so down (then up) that trail–easy. Except, it got a bit hotter and a bit more humid as we walked, and walked, and continued to walk.  How long was this trail again and why didn’t we bring any water?  As we were foolishly committed to the journey we did eventually arrive and the view was stunning!  This photo does not do it justice.  Go… see for yourself. Bring water, bug spray, comfy walking shoes and your camera.

We’ve been taking a week’s vacation on Martha’s Vineyard for many, many years but it took the ECA’s to get us to visit Tuck & Holand.  Fantastical weathervanes and a wonderfully random conversation with Tony, it was so worth the visit and made me wish we needed a weather-vane!

The Restaurant at L.A. Burdick Handmade Chocolates in Walpole, New Hampshire

It’s not too often that I end up in a photo, but the mirrors at LA Burdick in Walpole, New Hampshire, offered up the opportunity.  While there, we were filled to capacity with buttery rich, wonderfully enticing food, and heavenly chocolates! Home for us is just off of Route 63 in Massachusetts.

Inn at Valley Farms

Thanks to the ECA, The Inn at Valley Farms (also in Walpole), and our mapping prowess, we learned that 63’s northern origin point is just outside of Walpole, so we meandered our way home on it.  It reminded me of the Sunday drives my parents used to take us on.

The last photo that we took for the 2010 ECA’s photo contest was on the last day of the contest and was all of 10 minutes from our house.  The Peace Pagoda in Leverett, Massachusetts,  is a place I had always known was there and was on my list of places to get to… someday.  So it took the ECA to give me that final push. A minor climb is involved to reach the pagoda but we felt it was well worth the visit.  Tranquility lives there and fills your soul with a quietude that you can carry away with you when you depart.

Ginny and Steve

I am humbled to report that we did end up being one of the random winners for Yankee’s Editors’ Choice Photo Contest in 2010.   Who knows, maybe I will rattle on about our expedition to the Omni Mount Washington Resort in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, in the near future?  We were and continue to be exceedingly excited and grateful for the experiences traveling the ECA has given us.

Thanks for reading and I hope you are inspired to venture out on your own tours of the Editors’ Choice winners.

Ginny Newton

The post What I Did Over Summer Vacation appeared first on Yankee Magazine.

I always thought of myself as a city mouse, but it wasn’t until I left Manhattan for a very rural part of Cape Cod that I realized I didn’t know jack about mice.

Three years ago my husband Kevin and I traded in our Upper West Side condo for two wooded lakeside acres and a house that puts the ‘shack’ in ramshackle. When we moved in, we discovered that we had insects taking up residence in our floor joists. We had woodpeckers bent on turning our siding into Swiss cheese. And, naturally, we had mice.

But we also had land. Land!

I’ve been a food writer for nigh-on two decades but, until we moved to the country, just about everything that I cooked, ate, and wrote about had passed through someone else’s hands. But having land meant we could put an end to all that. Land means food!

We can grow it, we can raise it, we can fish for it in our back yard! We’ll garden, we’ll compost, we’ll can! We’ll hunt, we’ll gather! Primitive peoples have been doing it since time began —how hard can it be?

The answer, of course, is really bloody hard. You have to get up early, and spend your days doing dirty, difficult jobs. You have to battle the elements and the insects. You have to know things like whether your soil is acidic or alkaline and what kinds of bugs trout eat in April and which mushrooms have “death” in their name. The spirit was willing but the skill set was weak.

What I needed was a goal. A reasonable, achievable goal to give my efforts some structure. Just such a goal occurred to me, coincidentally, on New Year’s Day of 2009. I thought it was a pretty good idea, so I ran it by my husband. “Honey,” I said, “do you think we can go the whole year and eat one thing every day that we grow or fish or hunt or gather?”

Kevin is always supportive of me and my work, likes the idea of living off the land, and is possessed of an irrepressible can-do attitude. “Not a chance,” he said.

Not a chance?

“What are we going to eat all winter?”

He had a point, and those first few months are still referred to in our house as the Winter of Clams — shellfish being just about the only food available for harvest on Cape Cod in February. As spring approached, though, our efforts widened, and so did our horizons.

Beginning on that first day of January, 2009, we have eaten something we’ve procured first-hand every single day, and I’ve been chronicling our efforts at my blog, Starving off the Land. We’ve built a chicken coop and raised a flock of hens. We’ve installed two beehives in our backyard. We’ve taken heroic measures to amend the sand that passes for soil in our part of the world so we can grow things to eat. We’ve raised our own Thanksgiving turkey. We haven’t shot a deer yet, but we’re trying. We fish, we shellfish, we lobster, and we’re Cape Cod’s newest oyster farmers.

I’ve learned a lot since I left New York. I know how to drive a boat, how to handle a shotgun, how to break a broody hen. I can split wood, slaughter turkeys, use power tools. Along the way, I’ve talked to other fishermen, hunters, and gardeners, and the thread that runs through all their efforts is the profound satisfaction of harvesting food first-hand. If you catch it, grow it, find it, or shoot it yourself, it’s more than just dinner; it’s an accomplishment.

We tend to put food acquisition in distinct categories. Gardening is different from beekeeping, raising chickens is different from catching bluefish. But the life-long hunter has something important in common with the first-time gardener, and it’s that moment when you put the fruits of your labors on the table.

Do you know that feeling? The satisfaction of knowing that you coaxed that food out of the soil, or the sea, or the woods, that you spent time outdoors getting wholesome, healthful food to feed yourself and your family? That’s what’s at the heart of first-hand food, and it’s a feeling I never knew as a city-dweller.

I think I’ll stay for a while.

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