Alfajores

Alfajores are one of the most traditional, popular Argentinean foods. These cookie-sandwiches are filled with dulce de leche, jam, or mousse, and often covered in chocolate or rolled in coconut flakes. You can find them in individual aluminum packaging in any of the ubiquitous kioskosos, but to be honest, those aren’t that good.  Besides serving as a quick chocolate-fix, any of kiosko alfajores’ other merits get drowned between the sheer feeling of being awful for you. There is something about the thick, chalky cookie layers that makes me want to apologize to my arterires. And yet, I persevere, and every now and again try a new type, because, damnit, when it comes to being a porteña, liking alfajores is right up there with dancing tango while drinking mate and painting yourself the colors of Boca fútbol. Finally, tonight, it all became worth it.

Some friends and I set to making alfajores. Now, there are many types, and alfajores have come a long way from the almost healthy originals – a Spanish-Arabic treat consisting of honey, almonds, walnuts, and dried fruit wrapped in a dough cylinder and rolled in sugar or more dried fruit. When the Spanish came to the Americas, they thought more about conquering and extracting silver than about where had good alfajor ingredients, and as a result, had to change their recipe. Judging from the modern candy-cookie concoctions, that recipe changed a lot. Each province and country has it’s own alfajor recipe. Nicaragua makes a brownie-like pastry using cocoa, molasses, and corn meal, and slaps on the “alfajor” name, while in la Salta province they fill the cookie-sandwiches with a honey meringue, Santa Fe province employs crunch cookies brimming over with filling, and health food stores are testing out whole-grain and rice-based cookies. Buenos Aires is all about dulce de leche, and usually the cookies you can get in bakeries are spongy or like shortbread.

We choose a recipe for cornstarch alafjores (I know, doesn’t sound appetizing, but bear with me).  Here were our ingredients (we halved this, and came out with about 11 sandwiches):

5 oz (150 g) softened butter

7 oz (200 g) sugar

2 egg yolks

1 egg

3.5 oz (100 g) flour

 10.5 oz (300 g) corn starch

1 tsp baking soda

Shredded coconut

a few spoonfuls of apple puree

cinnamon

a spoon or two of honey

The apple puree and cinnamon were our own additions, trying to make a very bland tasting (but wonderfully creamy-textured) batter more sweet and flavorful.

We stole our recipe from a blog:http://anatravels.org/2011/06/27/alfajores-de-maizena/, but I’ll repost it here, with our changes.

Process:

1. Heat the oven on low, or about 300 degrees.

2. “Beat the softened butter with the sugar until pale and fluffy. Add the egg yolks and the egg and beat well.”

Measuring in grams? Get me out of this crazy country!!

3.”Sift together the flour, corn starch and baking soda and gradually add to the butter and egg mixture.” Stir in apple sauce and honey and sprinkle on cinnamon.

4. The dough was so wet, we found it easiest to dollop it directly on to a tray and smooth into a circle shape, instead of rolling out first, like the recipe recommends. Be careful to space your cookies apart – ours spread into each others. You can easy fix this, though, by cutting out shapes or using a mug to cut out circles.

     
Even in Latin America that's just not enough personal space

5. Cook for about 12 minutes. You’re advised not to let the cookies turn a gold color, although I’d recommend letting your cookies get on the crispy side. The cookies on our bottom rack cooked more than the ones on top, until they had a brown edge, and this made them firmer and more flavorful.

6. Filling: After letting your cookies cool, spread a filling between them, and sandwich two together. (It’s basically s’mores minus the marshmallow). We used dulce de leche, melted chocolate, and/or a mixture of peanut butter, milk, and honey. If you want, pour some chocolate over the top. Whatever you do, don’t forget to roll it in shredded coconut. I accidentally dumped a mound of coconut on top of mine, as thick as one of the cookies, and I almost died of happiness.

An alfajor, cut in half. It may not look fancy, but . . . 

. . . the results speak for themselves.