Witch Fingers and Ghosts

"Oh, the rats and bats and witches
keep the skeletons in stitches
as they sip their spider cider
in the haunt-ed house!"

About seven or eight years ago, right around Halloween, my husband brought home a recipe clipped from a newspaper at his work. He thought it was really cool and wondered if I would make it. So, I took a look. Who would've thought these cookies would become a Halloween tradition in our little family? We just HAVE to make them every year! Everyone is thrilled with them; kids adore them. I now think they have come to be EXPECTED. I'll share the recipe with you and maybe, just maybe you'll have a Halloween tradition on your "hands" as well.

Witch Finger Cookies
(if you are wondering, they are like almond shortbread)

1 c. butter, softened
1 c. powdered sugar
1 egg
1 t. almond extract
1 t. vanilla
2 3/4 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
a few drops green food coloring
slivered almonds (you can use whole or pistachios too, but I like the "claw" look)
1 tube red decorator gel (or you can color a little corn syrup red)

In bowl, beat together butter, sugar, egg, almond extract, vanilla and green food coloring. Beat in flour, baking powder and salt. Cover (or wrap) and refrigerate 30 minutes.
Roll heaping teaspoons of dough one at a time into finger shape for each cookie. Press almond firmly into one end for nail. Squeeze fingers in center to create knuckle shape (I find that when you roll these between your hands, the knuckle sort of creates itself.)
Using a paring knife, make slashes in several places to form knuckle. Place on lightly greased cookie sheet in 325 degree oven for 20-25 minutes or until pale or lightly golden. (you don't want to brown these so watch carefully)
Let cool for 3 minutes, lift up almond; squeeze red gel onto nail bed and press almond back in place so gel oozes out from underneath. Remove from cookie sheet and let cool. Repeat with remaining dough. Makes a few dozen, depending oh now big you make them.

BOO!! Adding a few of these Nutter Butter Ghosts to your cookie tray really gets everyone in the "spirit." Simple, quick, even the kids can do them!

Nutter Butter Ghosts

Nutter Butter Cookies
Almond Bark, melted
Chocolate chips/mini chocolate chips/sprinkles/mini M&M's
(whatever you have on hand to make a face)

Melt the bark, dip the cookie 3/4 of the way in, place on wax paper. Add face design while bark is still wet. Let dry and eat!

"When the night is dark and scary
when the moon is full
and the creatures are a flying
and the wind goes WOOOOOO,
you better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear,
and cherish them that loves ya and dry the orphans tears
and help the poor and needy ones that cluster all about
or the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!"
- James Whitcomb Riley

When the Frost is on the Punkin...

In honor of yesterday's first snow of the year, it seemed appropriate to post this poem by James Whitcomb Riley. When I was little, my grandmother would read this and "Little Orphan Annie" to us right at this time of year. She would pick the grandkids up for school every morning. We would sit in her little green and white pinto (or silver pacer, whatever at the time) and wait for the day's surprise. Sometimes she would hand out stickers; sometimes she would sing songs. In the fall, it was poetry - and we liked it.

HEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,

And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,

And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;

O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,

With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,

As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here--

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;

But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock--

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,

And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;

The stubble in the furries--kindo' lonesome-like, but still

A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;

The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;

The hosses in theyr stalls below--the clover over-head!--

O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps

Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;

And your cider-makin' 's over, and your wimmern-folks is through

With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! ...

I don't know how to tell it--but ef sich a thing could be

As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me--

I'd want to 'commodate 'em--all the whole-indurin' flock--

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

-James Whitcomb Riley, 1916