Mostaccioli Napoletani

Mostaccioli are not cookies in the American sense. They are not soft, not chewy, not designed to be grabbed by the handful. They are firm, aromatic, and meant to be eaten slowly with coffee or a glass of sweet wine. The spices announce themselves immediately: cinnamon, cloves, a whisper of black pepper. Then the dark chocolate coating, bittersweet and thin. This is a cookie for adults.

The dough contains no butter, no eggs. Honey binds everything together, as it has for centuries. The almonds are ground fine and folded in with candied orange peel, cocoa powder, and enough flour to bring the dough together. You roll it, cut it into diamonds, and bake until firm. The cookies should not spread. They should hold their shape with dignity.

Every family in Naples has a version. Some add espresso powder. Some use ammonia bicarbonate for a particular crispness that baking powder cannot replicate. Some insist on candied citron rather than orange. All agree that the chocolate glaze must be dark, thin, and allowed to set properly before the cookies are stacked. This is not optional. Unglazed mostaccioli are incomplete.