Holiday Baking and Cookie Exchange Prep
Building your exchange plate and taking notes you'll keep
Okay. Cookies are baked, tins are packed, you've survived the car ride and the labels. Now we're at the actual exchange table, and there are two things left to talk about: what you bring to look at, and what you write down so you're not starting from zero next December.
The plate itself
Most exchanges have you set out a small sample plate alongside your tin, so people can see what they're grabbing before they commit. This is a smaller job than it sounds like, but it's worth doing right.
Three cookies, four max. Not your whole tin. You're not trying to feed the table, you're trying to show it.
Pick for contrast, not for favorites. If you've got a chewy molasses cookie and a shortbread, put them next to each other. Similar-looking cookies next to each other just blur together and nobody remembers either one. I'd rather see one dark cookie, one pale one, one with texture on top, than three variations on the same round golden thing.
Skip the doily. I know that's a small thing to have an opinion about, but a doily under three cookies makes the whole plate look like it's trying too hard, and the cookie should be doing the talking. A plain plate, a folded napkin if you want texture, that's it.
If your cookie has a topping that sheds — a sugar dust, a drizzle that's fully set — that's fine on a plate. If it's anything sticky or anything that needs a fork, it's not a plate cookie, it's a stay-in-the-tin cookie. Nobody wants to stand at a table getting frosting on their fingers while they're deciding what else to take.
Taking notes that actually survive December
Here's the part I think people skip, and it's the part that would've saved me the most grief over the years.
Write down, same day, while you're still standing there: what sold out first, what came home mostly untouched, and what you'd change. Doesn't need to be fancy. A note on your phone is fine. An index card is fine too, as long as you don't lose it, which — I'll be honest, I lose mine constantly. I've re-figured out the same almond frosting ratio probably three times because I wrote it on a card and then the card went wherever cards go. If you've got a system that isn't a loose card in a kitchen drawer, use that instead of copying me.
What I actually write down:
- Which cookie went first. Not which one I liked best. What the table actually took.
- Any comment somebody made out loud. If three people say "this is a good texture," that's data, write it down.
- What I'd fix. Too sweet, too flat, needed more salt, whatever it is, while it's fresh in your head.
- Whether the tin held up, whether the drive changed anything, whether the labels did their job.
That's it. Four things. You do this once a year for three years and you've got a real record of what actually works for your family and your ward, instead of guessing every November like it's the first time.
An opinion, since we're near the end
I still don't love the frosted sugar cookies with the full royal icing job for these tables. They look great, I'll give them that. But they're a lot of work for something that's mostly texture and sugar and not much flavor underneath, and I'd rather bring one cookie that people actually eat all of than a dozen that look nice and get left half-eaten in a napkin. That's just me. If you love doing the icing work and it makes you happy, ignore this completely.
On finishing things
I'll tell on myself here. Years ago I started a mosaic project in the garage — tile, grout, the whole kit — and I got about three weeks in and stopped. Todd started setting his tools down on the tile pile because it was just sitting there anyway. It's still out there, as far as I know. I'm not torn up about it, it's just how I am with some projects. I start strong and lose the thread.
Cookie notes are the one place I've actually beaten that tendency, because the payoff is so immediate. You write down four sentences on exchange night, and next year you're not standing in your kitchen in early December trying to remember which cookie was the one everyone liked. You just look at the note. It's a small habit, but it's the difference between improving every year and reinventing the wheel every year.
Before next time
Bring something to write on to the exchange, even just your phone. Jot your four things down before you leave the parking lot, not after you've had a week to forget.