MINNEAPOLIS — For decades, Zoë François has built community through her baking. With her 10th book, “ Zoë Bakes Cookies” — already a bestseller — she is sure to widen that circle.
What began as a straightforward installment of the Minneapolis pastry chef’s favorite recipes quickly morphed in a deeply moving ode to the humble treat that transformed her life, and a testament to the women who forged paths before her, handing down their stories and strength through tattered recipe cards.
François starts the book talking about the commune where she was raised, a nomadic upbringing where carob was the closest thing to a chocolate chip cookie. While she is still working to develop an appreciation for some aspects of that cooking, she does share her aunt’s granola and some gluten-free peanut butter cookies.
She then guides the reader through the science and discovery of home ec class, and how as a lonely kid she learned to make friends by cracking the codes of edible chemistry. A college business course led to a cookie cart — and a course correction from academia to the prestigious Culinary Institute of America, where she learned to create fine-dining-level pastries — and the fun of breaking the right rules.
Perhaps most important, the heart of this book is a testament to the women who formed her, including her great-great-grandmother, whose bravery and boldness to surreptitiously bake bought passage for the Jewish family to flee just before the Russian Revolution.
Between stops on her current book tour, we talked to François by phone about the unexpected turns her sweet life has taken, the canonical importance of a tray of bars and why bakers really are the best people. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
This book feels like a lifetime — or lifetimes — in the making, with chapters of your life as well as your ancestors and women you celebrate. What about writing this book felt like a homecoming?
I didn’t start with that in mind. This was just a love letter to cookies, and sharing the tips and tricks we get to use in a professional kitchen. And I have recipes from my grandmothers, and obviously those stories were going to make it in. Settling into this, I didn’t know what I didn’t know.
I had asked my Bubbe Berkowitz for recipes 12 years ago, and she sent me the mandelbrot and two other recipes. By the time I began this book, Bubbe had passed away. I called my mom, who has done all of this extensive family research, and holy [expletive]! Those recipes changed everything.
People of that era, especially Jewish people, don’t speak of tragedies. I didn’t know the importance. My great-great-grandmother had this bakery in Kyiv at the historical cusp of Russian revolution. She was not only baking for levity and joy, which we bakers do. But also survival. Her daughters were stealing the ingredients to sell to earn enough money to come to America. I would not exist if it wasn’t for cookies. The craziest thing is that these recipes were passed down orally until I asked for them. That was the very first time they’d been written down. It was a total accident. She passed away and I thought nothing of it, and now I’m kicking myself that I only got the three.
How did that history translate to your own life lessons?
Growing up on that commune was a really significant time of my life. Again, I didn’t realize until later how much it shaped me. As much as carob was never going to taste like chocolate in a cookie, I appreciate why my parents were feeding me that.
I was lucky I got to do all the Jewish holidays and then celebrate Christmas with cookies with my grandmother Neal. I have amazing memories of those and I have her recipe box. These recipe cards, because she would share them with her sisters and friends, were letters and they were gossiping! Trash talking and recipes — they were stained and really used. It was like a treasure box of this woman who was a force of nature.
What felt like new ground?
I have the recipes and emotions they inspired in me, but when I made them as written, I wasn’t as excited about the final result. My palate has changed. I feel like people on a whole have much more sophisticated palates than using funky old ingredients like oleo. They needed a “zhush.” I got to play and make them my own.
Like measuring by weight?
I love the Baking Academy section! I did a YouTube Live about that section of the book and my mom called me after it was done. “You are such a nerd! You make it seem so exciting.” That’s where I get to geek out and share everything I learn. In the Cookie Lab chapter, I give readers tweaks to learn enough about baking so that they can play. I want to give them enough freedom to be able to move around within a recipe and know what will work and what they can change.
What would you say is the most common way home bakers are self-sabotaging recipes?
Read through it first so you’re anticipating what will happen. What you get from that, like the temperature of ingredients, is quite important. You can anticipate what you need next. Plus, you know my love affair with a scale and measuring ingredients by weight. Eventually, we will convert everybody.
The brilliant thing about the cookies, as opposed to the cake book, is that cookies are a less finicky technique. They’re more forgiving and less equipment. A bowl and a spoon — as long as your ingredients are room temperature — you can cream butter. This is a great entry point for baking. At my book signings I have a very intense and vocal audience of 5-year-olds. The next generation of baking is so exciting.
I love that there are little bits of Minnesota in your book, especially the bars. Being a Minneapolis transplant, do you remember first encountering bars?
My dad’s mom was from Michigan and part of her Christmas repertoire was bars. But I hadn’t heard that word until I moved to Minnesota. My Midwestern bar education has been steady and ongoing. Anytime I’m with a group of people, either for the show or in a church basement, I find out more about this baking culture. I don’t think people outside of here appreciate how deep and longstanding our baking culture is because we’re a milling town.
In the pastry world, we always talk about texture, flavor, contrast and balance. A bar has it all. It’s the perfect food group. The bars are to be revered. I got to understand it better while filming the show [“Zoë Bakes”]. I would show up at places like church basements and people would share these incredible, deep stories of family through their baking.
Food always brings people together, but baking — especially for me, because I can’t cook — does create that connection. Because I moved so much as a kid, I learned that baking and sweets made people happy. If I showed up with sweets, I made friends. People gather around these treats and make a community.
That’s why people bring the bars.
Caramelita Bars
Makes 16 bars.
A version of these bars won the Pillsbury Bake-Off Contest in 1967, the year I was born. The winning baker was from Minnesota, and the recipe became synonymous with the state. My best friend, Jen, is a Duluth native and her mom, Eileen Carlson, has made her own “secret” version on every special occasion for the past five decades. They hold a special place in the hearts of everyone who tries them. Like any good family recipe, we make them our own. The original 1967 version used oleo, another name for margarine, and caramel ice cream sauce or caramel candies individually wrapped in plastic. I riffed on the classic and came up with a version I hope makes Eileen proud. From “Zoë Bakes Cookies” by Zoë François (Ten Speed Press).
For the Oat Crust:
- ½ c. (110 g) unsalted butter, melted
- 1 c. (120 g) all-purpose flour
- 1 c. (100 g) rolled oats
- ¾ c. (150 g) lightly packed brown sugar
- ½ tsp. baking soda
- ½ tsp. kosher salt
For the Caramel Goop:
- ¼ c. (80 g) sweetened condensed milk
- ¼ c. (80 g) corn syrup or Lyle’s Golden Syrup
- ½ c. (100 g) lightly packed brown sugar
- 2 tbsp. unsalted butter
- ½ tsp. kosher salt
- 2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
- 6 oz. (170 g) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
- ½ c. (60 g) chopped walnuts or pecans, lightly toasted
Directions
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a greased 8-inch-square cake pan with greased parchment paper that goes up on the sides to create a sling.
- Make the oat crust: In a large bowl, mix the butter, flour, oats, brown sugar, baking soda and salt until it comes together. Pour two-thirds of the mixture into the pan, cover with plastic wrap, and press the dough with a glass into the bottom of the prepared pan.
- Bake in the middle of the oven for about 20 minutes, until golden brown.
- Make the caramel goop: Meanwhile, in a small pot, warm the sweetened condensed milk, corn syrup, brown sugar, butter, salt and vanilla over medium heat, stirring until it comes to a simmer and the butter melts, about 3 minutes.
- Once the crust is baked, pour the caramel mixture over the hot crust. Cover it evenly with the chopped chocolate, walnuts, and sprinkle the remaining third of the oat mixture over the chocolate.
- Bake in the middle of the oven for 15 to 18 minutes, until the oat mixture is golden brown and caramel is bubbling on the edges. Allow to cool completely before lifting it out of the pan and cutting. This can also be made days ahead and refrigerated or frozen for months.
Ultra–Peanut Butter Cookies
Makes about 18 cookies.
This recipe uses peanut flour instead of regular wheat flour, so it has the ultimate peanut flavor and just happens to be another tasty gluten-free option. Bonus! Note that peanut flour is not the same thing as powdered peanut butter, which has become popular in recent years, as people like to add it to smoothies. Peanut flour is made from defatted peanuts and can be found in two varieties. Dark peanut flour has been roasted and has a deeper flavor, which I prefer. The light version is made with raw peanuts and has a more subtle flavor. These cookies are great for kids — and adults, too — alongside chocolate milk or with a bowl of vanilla ice cream. From “Zoë Bakes Cookies” by Zoë François (Ten Speed Press).
- ¾ c. (165 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
- 1 ¼ c. (250 g) lightly packed brown sugar
- ¾ c. (195 g) smooth or chunky peanut butter, such as Skippy Super Chunk
- 2 large eggs, at room temperature
- 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
- 2 c. (200 g) peanut flour (see Note), sifted if lumpy
- 1 tsp. baking soda
- 1 tsp. kosher salt
- 4 oz. (112 g) semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped, optional
- ¼ c. crystal decorating sugar, for topping
Directions
- Preheat the oven 375 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
- In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and brown sugar for about 2 minutes on medium speed. Scrape the sides of the bowl often. Add the peanut butter and mix well. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing until well incorporated. Mix in the vanilla.
- In a small bowl, whisk together the peanut flour, baking soda, and salt. Add to the peanut butter mixture and mix on low speed just until it is smooth. Add the chocolate, if using.
- Scoop the cookie dough using a #20 (3-tablespoon) portion scoop onto the prepared baking sheets, leaving about 2 inches between the cookies, so they have room to spread. You can make the cookies larger or smaller, but it will affect the bake time. Flatten slightly, sprinkle with decorating sugar, and use a fork to create a crosshatch pattern.
- Bake, one sheet at a time, in the middle of the oven for 10 to 12 minutes. They will puff up slightly and the tops will be golden, but they should still be slightly soft in the middle. If you like your peanut butter cookies crunchy throughout, bake them for another couple of minutes.
- Cool completely before removing from the pan or they will crumble apart.
©2024 The Minnesota Star Tribune. Visit at startribune.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
