Chocolate. Orange. Ginger. Wow, I am smitten already. Landing on this recipe was a stroke of good fortune.

Gingersnaps are not new to me, but I was still not prepared for the intense blast of punchy flavour and texture that these deliver. I cannot fathom a more congenial combination in a cookie than this one, a bittersweet chocolate base speckled with rich nuggets of dark chocolate, the zing of peppery fresh ginger, bursts of tangy orange flavour and the added bonus of little bits of candied ginger for extra oomph. Then, there is the perfection of the texture, chewy and crisp at the same time, a hint of toothy resistance in the bite yielding to moist tackiness in the centre.

How does this happen? Secret ingredient: Marmalade. Who knew you could toss it into a gingersnap and get this sparkling result? I further bolstered the orange flavour with some pure orange oil. Married with the chocolate, this is a cookie to swoon over. Also, ground ginger can only do so much in the flavour department. The fresh ginger in these cookies takes the ginger concept and really lets it rip, as well as enhancing the moistness and tenderness ratio. Molasses is another essential element in a gingersnap, lending its sensuous, sweet depth and irresistible caramel-like qualities.

All told, you are in for a major jolt of delight, happiness in your hot little hands. Here is the game plan:

Chocolate Orange Gingersnaps

2 cups all-purpose flour; 1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp. unsweetened cocoa powder; 2 tsp. baking soda; 2 tsp. ground ginger; 1 tsp. ground cinnamon; 1 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg; 1/2 tsp. kosher salt; 3/4 cup unsalted butter, in pieces; 3/4 cup granulated sugar; 1/2 cup brown sugar; 1/4 cup molasses; 1/4 cup orange marmalade; 1 heaping tbsp. peeled and freshly grated fresh ginger; 1 large egg; 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract; 2 - 3 drops of pure orange oil; 5 tbsp. finely chopped candied ginger; 2 tbsp. cocoa nibs (optional); 5 tbsp. bittersweet chocolate, chopped small; 1/2 cup extra granulated sugar for rolling the cookie dough in.

Line your cookie sheets with parchment paper. Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl. In a mixer, beat together the butter and sugars on low speed until well blended. Stop the mixer and scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl and blend again. Add molasses, marmalade and grated ginger and mix to blend. Add egg, vanilla and orange oil and mix. Batter may look curdled, but that's OK. Stop and scrape sides and bottom of bowl as needed. Add the dry ingredients all at once and mix on low speed just until incorporated. Batter will be thick.

Add candied ginger, chopped chocolate and (optional) cocoa nibs. Mix only until evenly distributed. Refrigerate the batter overnight, covered with plastic wrap, for the best results.

When ready to bake, pour the extra cup of sugar into a shallow bowl or plate. Preheat your oven to 350 F. Using two teaspoons, plop balls of dough into the sugar and roll into a neater ball, coated with sugar completely. Place balls of sugared dough at least 3-inches apart on your baking sheets and bake for about 10 - 12 minutes, depending on the size of your cookies. Remove cookies from the oven just when they puff up the most, about 11-12 minutes, and let them cool completely in the pan. Makes about 50 small cookies.

Let me say a few words about cocoa nibs. They are available in gourmet shops and are on the pricey side, so make sure you understand what they are before you spend the big bucks. Cocoa nibs are the edible part of the cocoa plant, a hard, almost nut-like shell that is very bittersweet and brittle, with a crackly texture and deep, unsweetened cocoa taste. They are quite bitter on their own but when encased in a sweet cookie, your mouth will marvel at the intoxicating pure essence of chocolate. If you are unsure or unwilling to use them, simply leave them out. I did. I would love to use them for special occassions but not having them at all times will not stop me from making these cookies (at all times!).

At first I thought, I would would have liked this cookie to be a bit thicker, a more handsome handful, but this thin version certainly has its charm. With an almost lacey design, it is large and festive and beautifully toned. I am giving up on my idea of a perfect orb and loving the quirky form and personality at play here.

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With the season's frost settling on the ground this crisp morning, I pulled out my cozy arsenal of autumn spices and whipped up these gorgeous cookies, filling the kitchen with warm aromas. I am that quick to adapt to the cooler weather. Why wait? It's never a bad idea having moist, crackled gingersnap cookies on hand.

I am of the mind that more is better here when it comes to spice. And fresh ginger adds a big kick to an already punchy cookie, a bright, peppery, deep essence. Lots of cinnamon is used along with cloves, allspice and cardamom, and even a jolt of espresso powder, a melange with personality that will leave your tongue practically singing. Partner these with strong, fragrant tea and a tart apple and you have yourself a mid-afternoon snack to remember.

In truth, these cookies have served me well other times of the year, such as summer time, besides a scoop of good vanilla bean ice cream and a bowl of raspberries. I enjoy these on a dark winter morning with a steaming cup of coffee and a banana. Some would say a glass of milk makes the perfect partner. Any time is the right time for a great cookie. Whether destined for a party platter to share with friends or for solo munching in your kitchen, reading the newspaper, this is a cookie to keep in your tool kit and pull out all year round.

There are many gingersnap cookie recipes out there. I have tried and tasted MANY of them. This is the one I love the most, a kicked up and slightly modified version of the old stand-by from Joy of Cooking. Why does it work? Butter. Demererra sugar, with its rich flavour and dark butterscotchy feel. Lots of spice. Some whole wheat flour for old-fashioned wholesomeness and a hint of wheat. Molasses for chewiness and flavour with deep resonance. A roll in some granulated sugar, resulting in glistening crystals and a pleasing crunch. And careful baking, paying attention to not overbake these beauties, leaving them with a crisp outer shell that yields to a moist interior. With the signature crackles one comes to expect in a gingersnap, I offer you the best one I have ever met. Oh, you may have noticed from my photo that my cookies are huge, a handful of sugar and spice. I used an ice cream scoop to form tennis ball sized rounds which I then rolled in granulated sugar and flattened slightly with the palm of my hand. These larger cookies may need a minute or two longer in the oven.

Gingersnaps Recipe adapted from the 1974 Edition of The Joy of Cooking

3/4 cup butter, softened; 2 cups granulated sugar; 2 eggs, beaten; 1/2 cup molasses; 2 teaspoons white vinegar or fresh lemon juice; 2+3/4 cups all-purpose flour; 1 cup whole wheat flour; 1+1/2 teaspoons baking soda; 2 teaspoons ground ginger; 1 tbsp. fresh grated ginger; 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon; 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves; 1/2 tsp. ground cardamom; 1 tsp. instant espresso powder (optional).

Pre-heat your oven to 325 degrees F. Cream butter and sugar until creamy and smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, and mix until blended. Mix in molasses and vinegar or lemon juice and blend well. In a separate bowl, combine flours, baking soda, gingers, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and espresso powder if using. Stir well and add to wet ingredients. Mix just until the flour mixture is well incorporated and you have a cohesive dough. For cookies that are perfectly round, chill dough for at least 2 hours or overnight.

Form dough into 3/4 inch balls. Roll each ball in granulated sugar and place 2" apart on a greased cookie sheet or cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Flatten cookies slightly with the palm of your hand. Bake for about 12 minutes, until the edges are set and the top is crackled. For giant cookies, form dough into 3" balls, roll in sugar, flatten and bake for about 15 minutes. Do not overbake if you like some chew to your gingersnap.

Makes a big batch of small cookies or about 10 large 4-inch cookies.

Indulge in the joy of baking cookies:

What are those sparkly crystals adorning those stunning chocolate cookies? Fleur de sel. Ha ha ha! When you stop laughing, consider this. A fudgey, gooey biscuit grows up and puts on a sprinkling of fine, pure salt as a study in contrasts. You've seen it on fancy chocolates. You put it on grilled fish. It's the reigning queen of salt and, yowzer, does it do wonders for this cookie! Fleur de sel is the surprise ingredient in this fine offering and I urge you to give it a go.

You may not realize this, but it is the magic of salt that gives foods the tastes we come to love. "Salt is the single most important ingredient in cooking and the single most powerful tool for improving the flavour of food" says Mark Bitterman in his book Salted - A Manifesto on the World's Most Essential Mineral, With Recipes. Think of that tomato and the heights to which salt can elevate its tomato-ness. Or pan-fried potatoes and the lingering memory of the crispy, browned bits basking in a little sea salt. Baking requires salt for maximum flavour too, as you can see in all sweet recipes. Salt rounds out flavours and makes everything taste better. So, why not celebrate it and let it shine a bit more? And, in doing so, let's bring out the gold standard, fleur de sel, harvested from the sea by hand into crunchy beds off of the coast of France. Fleur del sel is light, flaky, pure and it will anoint your food with a finishing touch that will last in your memory, a clean bright waft of sea air. In these cookies, fleur de sel sits inside the dough as well, permeating the mouth with an even more punchy chocolate experience, and then dotting the tongue with a final, pleasant reminder.

The proliferation of food writing means that cooking and baking ideas spread and mutate and morph. This cookie is a stellar example. New York baker extraordinaire Dorie Greenspan took inspiration from Parisian pastry chef Pierre Herme. I, in turn, take my lead from Dorie, trusting her inclusion of salt crystals to bring midnight dark chocolate to greater heights. But, she rolls her dough into logs and slices cookies for baking, where I add a few drops of cold coffee to moisten the dough to allow for forming balls. My result is a crispy/chewy, crackled, salted beauty, the little crevices allowing for a peak into the deep heart of this chocolate sensation. This is what it means to create in the kitchen, tweaking, thinking, adapting, following, altering, modifying, enriching. I took this devilishly delicious cookie to where I wanted it, where the dough held together for me and allowed me to form uniform, round mounds of rich decadence. Where Dorie's dough felt dry and crumbly to me, I tweaked her recipe and made it work my way. All the flavour Dorie promises is there, the salt exalting our senses in a playful surprise.

Dorie calls these World Peace Cookies because her neighbour Richard Gold, upon tasting them, claimed that a daily dose is all that is needed to ensure planetary peace and happiness. Imagine if we could really test that concept.

Fleur de Sel Chocolate Cookies
adapted from Dorie Greenspan's recipe for World Peace Cookies

1+1/4 cups all-purpose flour; 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder; 1/2 tsp. baking soda; 11 tbsp. unsalted butter, at room temperature; 2/3 cup packed light brown sugar; 1/4 cup granulated sugar; 1/2 tsp. fleur de sel or 1/4 tsp. fine sea salt; 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract; approximately 2 tbsp. cold coffee, enough to moisten the dough so that it holds together when pinched; 3/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chunks or chips.

Sift flour, cocoa and baking soda together. In a large mixing bowl beat butter on medium speed until soft and creamy. Add both sugars, salt and vanilla and beat for 2 minutes more. Add dry ingredients and pulse mixer at low speed about 5 times to prevent the flour from flying around. Mix for about 30 seconds more, just so the flour disappears. If mixture appears dry and crumbly, add coffee a teaspoon at a time until the dough holds together when pinched.

Chill dough in the fridge overnight, wrapped well in plastic wrap. When you are ready to bake the cookies, centre a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat oven to 325 F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone mats. With a tablespoon, scoop out balls of dough and roll in your hands until rounded. Place about 2 inches apart on cookie sheet and flatten balls slightly with the palm of your hand. Bake one sheet at a time for about 12 minutes or until set at the edges, puffed and crackled, but still soft. Cool on a rack and store in a covered container.

Let Dorie Greenspan be your capable and inspiring guide in the kitchen:

I baked up a batch of these beauties recently for a folk dance workshop and their success was measured in moans and swoons. Just the right quota of deep bittersweet morsels and the crunch of toasted walnuts encased in a fragrant, buttery, chewy cookie dough. All of these elements enhanced each other in an intoxicating interplay of flavour and texture, a virtual marriage of disparate parts that synthesized into a unified whole.

I realized, after a thoughtful chew, that the recipe for success in this cookie is essentially balance. You will find a dough sweet enough to titilate but that does not overwhelm the chocolate. There is a certain, special chewiness that feels just right, a small snap with every bite that melds into tenderness. The chocolate must stand up on its own two feet, delicious enough to win praise as it nestles into the crevices of your mouth. You expect a sweet sensation of nuttiness, little nuggets that play off of the silky smoothness of the chocolate. Here, the size of the nuts, their freshness and amount, come into play. Too many is the wrong emphasis. Too few is just wrong.

I subscribe to the school of thought that ordains that a chunk of chocolate is better than a chip. And chunking your own bar of chocolate yields all kinds of extra bonuses - lovely little pieces of course, but also slivers, shavings, dust, all useful in the cookie you are about to build. It all goes in, the dust speckling the dough, the slivers adding small dashes of flavour, and, the part you live for, the chunks, the explosion of chocolate indulgence that elevates this cookie to a realm unattainable by its cousin, the chocolate chip cookie.

From where does this cookie come to me? The one and only David Lebovitz, chocolate guru, ice cream maven, food blogger, essentially the perfect man:

David Lebovitz's Perfectly Balanced Chocolate Chunk Cookies

2+1/2 cups all-purpose flour; 3/4 tsp. baking soda; 1/8 tsp. salt; 1 cup unsalted butter at room temperature; 1 cup light brown sugar; 3/4 cup granulated sugar; 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract; 2 large eggs at room temperature; 2 cups walnuts, coarsely chopped; 14 ounces bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped - use the best quality you can get your hands on.

In a small bowl whisk together flour, baking soda and salt. In a stand mixer beat together butter, the two sugars and vanilla and beat on medium speed until smooth. Beat in the eggs one at a time until thoroughly blended. Stir in the flour mixture, nuts and chocolate chunks and mix just until the flour disappears. Chill the dough overnight in the fridge. Preheat oven to 350 F. Form teaspoon sized balls of dough and place them on a parchment lined baking sheet, 2 inches apart. Press down gently on each ball with the palm of your hand to flatten slightly. Bake about 10 minutes or until the cookies are set, very lightly browned in the centres and are still soft.

Learn more about great cookies:

I promised you more Jewish cookies with cute names and these festive Hamantashen are beauties you will love. If you have fond memories of playing with playdoh as a child, you will enjoy the tactile similiarity this dough has to that product. Except this product smells so much better, of butter and sweet vanilla. Encasing a lively and textured filling of ground poppy seeds, these three-cornered cookies have an intriguing persona, a little bit pastry-like, yet miniaturized and dainty. Jewish people eat Hamantashen during the holiday Purim as a symbolic reference to an evil man named Haman who wore a three-sided hat and who wanted to kill all the Jews in Persia. He did not succeed.

Those of us who are practiced Hamantashen eaters fall are divided into camps: sturdy cookie dough disciples or delicate pastry dough devotees. Also, some of us favour poppy seed fillings and others prefer prunes. In Israel, where demand is high and competition fierce during Purim, bakers are dreaming up new ways to seduce customers, with modern takes on this traditional treat: marzipan, sour apples, pistachio and rosewater fillings are now on offer. As Joan Nathan explains in her recent article on modern Hamantashen in The New York Times, "the globalization of Israeli food. . . . inspires this generation of Israeli bakers to compete for ways to tweak tradition for a more sophisticated clientele."

Lehamim Bakery in Tel Aviv sells a variety of unconventionally flavored hamantashen - photo courtesy of The New York Times

All of this to say that the Hamantashen culture is here to stay and is adapting to new tastes and influences for a new generation. Never one to get in the way of good baking, I applaud these creative ventures and will say this: I still love the old standards, prune and poppy seed. And I fall into the cookie dough camp, though I flirted with the pastry dough rendition for many years. Today I offer you what I consider the gold medal of Hamantashen, a traditional poppy seed studded treat with a sturdy cookie dough casing. If you fall in love with these, go forth and experiment with my blessing.

Traditional Hamantashen
adapted from Marcy Goldman's A Passion For Baking

Dough: 1 cup unsalted butter; 1+1/4 cups sugar; 3 large eggs; 1/4 cup orange juice; 1+1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract; 4 cups of all-purpose flour; 1/2 tsp. kosher salt; 2+1/2 tsp. baking powder. Egg wash: one egg, beaten.

My filling: 2 cups poppy seeds, ground in a spice grinder; approx. 1/2 cup granulated sugar or to taste; approx. 1/3 cup water or enough to evenly moisten the poppy seeds; 1 tbsp. runny honey; 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon; pinch of kosher salt. Combine filling ingredients in a pot and cook over medium heat, stirring continually, until thickened to a moist paste, about 3 minutes. You want the filling to be firm enough to hold together when pinched. Cool. Filling will continue to thicken as it cools. Can be prepared ahead and kept, covered, in the refrigerator for a few days.

In a mixing bowl cream the butter and sugar together. Add eggs one at a time and blend until silky. Stir in the orange juice and vamilla. Mix to blend. Fold in flour, salt and baking powder and mix to form a soft but firm dough. Cover and let dough rest for 10 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350 F. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper. Divide the dough into 3 flattened discs and work with one portion at a time. Roll out each disc onto a lightly floured counter to a thickness of 1/8 of an inch. Use a 3-inch cookie cutter and cut as many rounds as you can. Brush the rounds with egg wash. Fill with a generous teaspoon of filling. Draw 3 sides together into the centre. You should now have a 3-cornered or triangular pastry. Pinch the sides together where they meet, leaving some filling showing in the middle. Repeat with remaining dough and filling. Brush egg wash on the top of each filled pastry. Bake at 350 F for 18 - 25 minutes or until golden brown.

All kinds of possibities await you once you fall for Hamantashen. Take inspiration from the creative creations in Israel, including savoury versions, feta cheese and beets, potato and sesame seeds. But remember that tradition has a strong pull and, as the Lehamim bakery owner Uri Scheft, says "even with all the different fillings we make, the most popular is still poppy seed."

Traditional Jewish food is celebrated here: