I’m not embarassed. I like Russians. I make some type of Russian Tea Cakes every year during the Christmas bake, miniature in size. I’m very fond of Russian Tea Cakes and so are all those who find some in their goody tins. They have other names to other bakers.
I must thank my cousin in Idaho for suggesting several years ago that I create new ones, utilizing different flavors, and so I have done another one this year. There are several flavors now, enough to call those little balls a “Line of Cookies” for MsChef in Seattle. (That’s not to knock the originals made with walnuts or pecans which most folks who enjoy them either bake or buy at Christmas, and which are at least quadruple in size to mine, which are different in recipe and process.)
Mother has already declared my new cookie to be divine. I’d suggested that she clear her palate first to appreciate the delicate but definite natural cinnamon flavor. I’m pretty sure she’ll extract the whole packet of those from the box of goodies that I sent early, knowing that she’ll squirrel them away to a drawer instead of sharing. That’s one of the signs that a cookie has passed the test, moved on to the request list.