These thumbprint cookies are a tradition from Mother Lovett.
When I pulled my first batch of thumbprint cookies from the oven, the smell instantly took me back to baking with her at Christmastime. It brought a rush of nostalgia and hunger. I ate a few in her memory — this will be our first Christmas without her.
I made the dough a day ahead and chilled it overnight. She would usually make hers several days in advance; she also ate cheeses that had been in the fridge far too long, so her standards were unique.
These cookies were extra fun when I was a kid because we colored the coconut. Do you remember how exciting food coloring droppers were? My mother and grandmother would warn me not to play with them, which only made me want to play more.
We colored the coconut pink and green. No matter how much red food coloring we used, the coconut always turned more pink than red, and Mother Lovett loved that pink. I’ll admit — it’s quite pretty.
I’d add a drop or two of dye to a cup of coconut and shake it up. She’d complain that I used too much, then that I didn’t use enough, and then that I’d used too much again. The color became a running joke; nothing I did ever seemed to please her completely.
This year coloring the coconut felt quieter — no one was there to fuss — and still, it turned out lovely.
When the dough is slightly softened, roll it into one-inch balls, dip each ball in beaten egg white, then roll it in the colored coconut.
Mother Lovett always multiplied the recipe many times over. We never measured the cookie balls consistently, so every tray had a mix of sizes and colors. Even without her here, I follow that same chaotic-but-joyful approach.
Bake the cookies for five minutes, then remove them briefly and press your thumb gently into the center to make the signature thumbprint. Return them to the oven and finish baking. When I was young she would often come along to press her thumb into my prints, so our lids of cookies carried both of our marks.
There were a few tricks to avoid her “help.” When she had trouble hearing the timer, I learned to sneak and remove the trays myself, push my thumb into each cookie, and slide them back in. Inevitably she’d later call out that I’d forgotten them, and we’d laugh. Those small kitchen rhythms are the things I miss most.
After the cookies cool, the decorating begins. We colored the icing too — pink and green — and she had very specific instructions about which cookie got which color.
“Ice some of the pink with the green.”
“Don’t ice too many with green icing, I don’t like it.”
“Make sure you use more pink icing.”
“Ice the mixed coconut ones with both pink and green.”
Even now I follow her directions without thinking. I ice them the way she wanted, because those little rituals are how I remember her.
Thumbprint Cookies
Thumbprint Cookies
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup shortening (or use butter)
- 1/4 cup butter, softened
- 1/4 cup loosely packed brown sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 egg yolk
- 1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 egg white
- 2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
- pink and green food coloring, optional
- buttercream or cream cheese frosting (store-bought or homemade)
Instructions
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Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C).
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Beat shortening and butter until creamy. Add brown sugar, egg yolk and vanilla and beat until fluffy. Sift flour and salt together and mix into the dough until combined. Roll dough into 1-inch balls.
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Lightly beat the egg white. Place 1 cup of coconut in a sealed container with 1 or 2 drops of red food coloring, shake until colored, and repeat with the green. Transfer colored coconut to separate bowls.
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Dip each dough ball in egg white, then roll in the colored coconut. Arrange balls on a cookie sheet about 1 inch apart; these cookies don’t spread much.
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Bake for 5 minutes, remove from the oven and gently press your thumb into the center of each cookie to make the thumbprint. Return to the oven and bake 8 to 10 minutes more. Let cookies cool completely.
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Fill the centers with buttercream or cream cheese frosting. For color, tint small bowls of frosting pink and green and add a dollop to each cookie.
Did you make this recipe?
Be sure to tag your photos and share them with friends. I appreciate you so much!
I hope you try these cookies in Mother Lovett’s honor. Each time you eat one, think of her — her love of baking, her funny mispronunciations, an overstuffed fridge full of expired items, and her fierce, stubborn spirit.
Her love of baking.
Her mispronunciation of words.
Her fridge with 95% expired goods.
Her fighting spirit.