I have a passion for seafood cakes of any variety: Dungeness crab cakes, shrimp cakes, fresh or smoked salmon cakes, and varieties yet untried. They are easy to make, but many a fine cook errs by adding too much binder. You want to taste the seafood and the seasoning, not what is holding them together–bread crumbs typically.

This recipe originally came into my files from my sister-in-law and culinary diva, Mary-beth. Or was it from my other sister-in-law, entertaining diva, Priscilla? Well, it was definitely from one of these two remarkable women.

For a few years, many years ago, while living amongst the Bradley clan and their merry circle of friends in Yakima, Washington, this appetizer appeared at EVERY cocktail party. It was a novelty at the time and a darned good one at that. But as the years passed, and we moved to Seattle, I forgot about it.

James (AKA MauiJim) has always hated hash with a passion. “That awful, mushy stuff,” as he puts it. “Tastes just like dog food smells,” is another of his customary remarks when the hash subject is broached. This man doesn’t mince words. And he knows what he likes.

I know I’m late for New Year’s Eve, but I didn’t finish these four spreads until just now. Where oh where did the week go?

Nevertheless, I want to share them with you in hope that perhaps you can whip up one or two for tomorrow’s gatherings of friends and family around that big screen TV. They are all very easy and you probably have the needed ingredients in the frig. Well, maybe not the cold-smoked salmon, but if there is a Trader Joe’s nearby, they have a 4-ounce package for a modest price.

But as I perused further, I saw one resolution that I could easily accomplish TODAY. It said: “Make peanut brittle. No peanuts. Must be exceptional.” Aha! (Did I mention that I have never made peanut brittle or any kind of brittle?)

So I began researching all of my dessert cookbooks this morning. Then I hit the web and looked around there. That took hours and more than 2 cups of coffee. Everyone makes it slightly differently and naming conventions are all over the place. Some cooks make toffee and call it brittle. Some cooks make hard caramel (which I call praline) and call it brittle. One noted cook calls melted white chocolate painted thinly and embellished with raspberry puree, chocolate brittle. EEYIYI!

I love the smell of aromatic spices in the house. I love inhaling warm wafts of spicy goodness while cradling a cup of hot tea in both hands. Comfort is the word that comes to mind, but an elemental comfort that is hard to describe. At these moments, I know in the deepest way that no matter what is appearing in my life, all is somehow, inexplicably, as it should be and thus perfect. This feeling sometimes runs counter to all logic, and yet there it is as I sip my spicy mulled tea.

A dried fruit and nut laden Christmas specialty of Siena, Italy, panforte (pronounced pan-FOHR-teh; variously called Panpepeto, Siena Cake, Panforte di Siena, Panforte Nero, and Panforte Margherita) is often described as a type of fruitcake. To call it a cake of any type, however, is, well, misleading. It doesn’t fit my definition of a cake.

It also reminds me nothing of Lebkuchen, a German gingerbread-type cookie, which it is also said to resemble, probably due to the inclusion of honey and warm winter spices in both. But no, it’s not a cookie.

After several weeks of nearly non-stop, high-intensity cookie baking, I present you with the final cookie of this year’s Twelve Days of Christmas Cookies: Starry Night bake-a-thon. TA DA!

In the kick off post, I set the stage for this completely new collection of cookies, most of which break rather dramatically from the traditional holiday cookies of my childhood. I really wanted to push my understanding of what makes a remarkable and thus memorable Christmas cookie. I wanted to try new and exciting flavor and texture combinations. I wanted to stretch myself as a baker. As I say in the Twelve Days of Christmas Cookies: Starry Night kick off post, I intended to throw tradition to the proverbial wind this holiday season.

Well, folks, we are almost to the end of LunaCafe’s second annual Twelve Days of Christmas Cookies: Starry Night bake-a-thon. After this post, only one more cookie, and then it’s time to put away all the cutters, stencils, sprinkles, and other holiday cookie baking paraphernalia; plus wipe the flour from every surface in the OtherWorldly Kitchen. And then carefully and lovingly repackage the many large tins of cookies for their final destinations.

But please be assured that I have saved the absolute BEST two cookies for last. We will end this adventure creating the most memorable holiday cookies ever with a bang.

If you have been following along on this year’s Twelve Days of Christmas Cookies: Starry Night bake-a-thon, you know this is my year for putting tradition aside and pushing the holiday cookie flavor envelope. Perhaps this particular cookie pushes the envelope to its most extreme so far. I don’t imagine that these cookies will ring everyone’s Christmas bells, but I must tell you I am already nearly addicted to them. If you’re like me, on the first bite you might think, “What the @#$%^$!” Then on the second bite, the thought shifts to, “Wait a minute, this is Interesting.” Then by the third bite, you are full on IN LOVE. Actually this also describes my first encounters with MauiJim, but I digress.