Springerle

Springerle sits deep in the Advent tin, especially in Swabia and Baden, where the carved mould matters almost as much as the dough. It is a white anise cookie, stamped with pictures, dried overnight, and baked pale. Not golden. Pale. If you want brown Christmas spice, bake Lebkuchen. This one is ivory, hard at first, and better after it rests.

The regions argue in the small ways that matter. Swabia keeps them thick and high, with whole anise underneath the dough. Baden and Alsace often go a little thinner, and some kitchens flavour the dough with ground anise or anise oil instead. I like the seed underneath. It perfumes the cookie from below and leaves the face clean, which is where the mould has done its work. Im Norden anders, im Süden anders, and here we are firmly in the south-west.

The step that decides everything is the drying. Stamp the dough sharply, cut it, then leave the cookies uncovered overnight. The surface skin sets around the picture, so when the heat comes from below, the bottom rises into a little foot and the carved face does not blur. Bake too hot and you brown the top before the foot forms. Skip the drying and you get a sweet biscuit with a smudged face. Das braucht seine Zeit.

These are not last-minute cookies. Make them before the feast, stack them in a tin with a piece of apple or bread for a day if they need softening, and let the anise settle. Nicht aus dem Glas, not from a packet mix. Eggs, sugar, flour, anise, patience. That is the whole cupboard.