Most drunken evenings in a French gîte tend to conclude in an argument over cards or spilling red wine onto something white. This one was different. My friend Bridget, fortified with more rosé than a Love Island reunion, staggers to the kitchen and yanks open the fridge. She sways in its glow, one hand gripped on the handle for balance. I brace for another bottle, but to my surprise, she emerges clutching butter and eggs, then flour and sugar. She drops the butter into a pan. It sizzles, fizzes and fills the kitchen with a nutty perfume.
I stare. “What are you doing?”
Bridget meets my gaze, eyes glazed. “I’ve got to make the dough tonight,” she groans.
Little did I know this was the moment I would make cookies differently forever – with brown butter. You heat the butter on a hob until the water evaporates and the milk solids caramelise, then combine with eggs, flour, and sugar, and crucially, leave to rest overnight. The result? A biscuit with a depth and nuttiness that ordinary butter can only dream of. I recently read that the smell of baking accelerates the sale of homes; I’m fairly certain you could shift a windowless basement bedsit infested with vermin if a tray of these were in the oven.
Alongside the brown butter, they’re filled with chocolate chunks and pistachio crema – dolloped onto each biscuit before baking. Silkier and sweeter than standard nut butter, with a higher fat and sugar content, it caramelises slightly under the oven heat like a little square of Caramac. You can find it in Italian delis, larger supermarkets, or online.
I’ve always maintained that homemade Christmas gifts say more than a tray of Ferrero Rocher or novelty socks, and usually cost a fraction of the price. These cookies are the perfect present. Take a batch, freeze the dough balls, bake on demand, and wrap a few in brown paper tied with red string. Good karma in 2026: more or less guaranteed.
