Italian Pepper Cookies - Vincent "Vinnie The Butcher" Gabilone

T’day, you’s are in for a real treat, ‘cuz I’m in a good mood, and that don’t happen often, ‘cuz I’m, quite normally, a miserable bastard. 

But on a counta’ I’m in a good mood,  you’s’ll be following along wit an old family recipe for a cookie that’s been handed down tru the family. And if I hear one of you’s makin’ fun, ‘cuz I’m bakin’ cookies, you’s’ll disappear faster than a tray of these babies at an Italian wedding. I ain’t kiddin’. 

You see, all the aunts used ta’ get together at the house, any time someone was gettin’ married or havin’ a baby. The’d bake hundreds a cookies. Cookies would be coolin’ all over the house, anywhere’s there was a flat space. Then they’d be arranged on platters, and wrapped up real nice-like wit saran wrap, and carried to the occasion. Just like Carmine “The Toe” Tomblione wrapped up that rat Jimmy Simonnetti and shipped him off the the Pocono’s .

Anyways, as soon as the occasion was even close to over—which was some time in between the hours of six, and cousin Vito gettin’ drunk and beatin’ up the band, those same old aunts would be pullin’ tupperwares outta their girdles and pilin’ those cookies in like nobody’s business—elbowin’ each other and shit. Those trays’d be wiped clean in no time.

  So pay attention now…t’day’s recipe is for Italian Pepper Cookies. Yeah, I said pepper. Yeah, that means actual pepper is in the cookies. No, for Christ’s sake, it’s not prominent, you fragile-tongued imbecile.

Now, the first thing you’s are gonna do is melt a haffa pound a lard in a sauce pan. Now don’t go cryin’ ‘cause I just said lard…Jesus H, we just got started! It ain’t a bad ingredient, and it ain’t gonna go to ‘yer ass, unless you’s eat the whole damn batch. Aunt Mary wit the glass eye is a lard-ass on a counta she has the strongest elbows. You’s can substitute a haffa pound a Crisco if it makes you’s feel better. But, a lard-ass is a lard-ass, even if it’s full a’ Crisco. 

Anyways, melt the lard in the pan on the stove. Then you’s’ll tro in a cuppa crushed walnuts, a cuppa water and a cuppa raisins. Now don’t go gettin’ your panties in a bunch ‘cause I just mentioned raisins. You’s don’t have to add the raisins. My mother never adds the raisins because she says they remind her of flies. I, on the other hand, like the raisins on a counta’ they add a little sweetness and a little texture. But, for the love of Christ, you’s don’t have to add the damn raisins, ya goobinad. You’s’ll cook this mixture on the stove until the raisins are plump—they’re gonna blow up like Mickie D’Angelo did, when they fished him outta the river. If you’s didn’t add the raisins, no Mickie D’Angelo, gabeesh? Turn off the heat and add a cuppa orange juice and stir. Now let this mixture cool whilst you’s move on to the dry ingredients.

In a separate bowl, you’s are gonna combine one tablespoon a cinnamon, one teaspoon a salt, one teaspoon a ground cloves, one teaspoon a ground nutmeg, one teaspoon a bakin’ soda, five cups a flour, two cups a sugar, one cuppa cocoa, four teaspoons a bakin’ powder and one half-teaspoon a pepper. Did ya follow along? You good? Make sure, because once in a while I forget ta add the sugar—I don’t know why, I think some goobinad put the Malocchio on my recipe (father, son, holy spirit), and sometimes I forget the sugar. DON’T forget the sugar.

Now, add the cooled concoction from the stove into your dry ingredients and wash your damn hands—once cousin Johnny didn’t wash his hands before this step and the whole batch tasted like gun powder.  Anyways, once your hands are washed, get ‘em in there good, and mix all the dry ingredients wit the wet. Don’t go gettin’ lazy, do it right. Now, wit your clean hands, form that dough into balls and place ‘em on a cookie sheet. What size balls? I dunno! I ain’t got my t-square and ruler handy. Just make a goddamned decision for once in your life and roll some balls! Now bake ‘em in the oven at tree-hundred-and-fifty degrees. 

I ain’t gonna tell ya’ how long they’re gonna cook, on a counta’ there’s a secret trick you’s are gonna hafta learn. Now, pay attention here: after about ten minutes—I’m just sayin’ ten minutes ‘cause it really depends on how big your balls are, after about ten minutes, you’s are gonna get the spatula—the one your grandma used to beat your ass wit, and you’s are gonna, ever so gently, slide it under a cookie and take a peek. When the cookie bottom has a slightly reddish cast—like your ass had when your grandma beat it wit the spatula, then the cookies are done. Gabeesh? Take ‘em outta the oven and spatula them onto cooling racks. And be patient, let ‘em cool like Gus Frangione’s left thumb is coolin’ in Uncle Tony’s refrigerator. Go, relax, have a sangwich and a nice glass of Sambuca and come back later. 

You back already? Ok, once your cookies are cooled, it’s time to ice ‘em. No, not that ice. I’m talkin’ icing here, ya stugatz. For the icing, you’s are gonna mix cocoa powder, confectioner’s sugar and milk. I can’t tell you how much of each, ‘cause it’s a secret, and then I’d hafta ice you. What I can divulge, you’s just hafta put a small bit a cocoa powder into the powdered sugar, and then gradually add small amounts of milk and stir. You don’t wanna add too much milk, on a counta the icing will be too runny, ruinin’ all the hard work you’s just put in. Once you’s got the right consistency of the icing—thicker than blood, but thinner than yogurt, then you can dip the tops of the cookies into the icing and flip ‘em over real fast-like and place ‘em back on the cooling racks to dry. You can also sprinkle ‘em wit all sorts a shit—mini chocolate-chips, chocolate sprinkles, crushed walnuts, coconut, raisins—just kiddin’ about the raisins, but seriously, you can tro on whatever you’s are cravin’. 

And that’s it…the fuckin’ cookie recipe, try it out…you’s better do me proud…or else.

P.S. For you crybabys, ‘cause I know you's are out there…its about a cup and a half a powdered sugar, wit a half a cup of cocoa wit only a few teaspoons a milk. Sheesh.