Spitzbuben

Spitzbuben belong to the Advent tin, the weeks when the German table fills with Plätzchen, Christmas cookies, and every household suddenly has an opinion about butter, jam, and thickness. They sit strongest in the south and south-west, in Swabia, Baden, Bavaria, Austria, and Switzerland, though the names start arguing before the dough is rolled. Spitzbuben here, Hildabrötchen in Baden, Linzer Augen across the Austrian line. Same family, different table.

I make them as Mürbeteig, short pastry, two thin discs with a hole cut from the top and red currant jelly between. The jelly matters. Strawberry is sweet and lazy here; red currant is sharp enough to wake up the butter and sugar. Nicht aus dem Glas is a fine rule for sauce, but a good clear currant jelly is exactly what the larder made for Advent.

The one technique is cold dough, rolled thin. Warm Mürbeteig smears under the cutter, loses its clean edge, and bakes tough because you keep adding flour to rescue it. Cold dough cuts sharp and stays crisp. If the tray feels soft before it goes in the oven, chill it again. Das braucht seine Zeit.

Bake them pale, not brown. The colour comes from the ruby window and the dusting of icing sugar, not from taking the butter too far. Let the cookies cool before the jelly goes in, or the filling runs and the top slides around like a drunk cousin at Christmas coffee. Schön ist, was schmeckt.