IN THE KITCHEN : Tough Cookie

I remember when I was a kid sitting down with my grandfather and watching in amazement as he had nothing but coffee and Archway sugar cookies for breakfast. Cookies! While we kids were watched over by an ever-vigilant mother as we bravely forced down our super-nutritious Lucky Charms, he was eating cookies, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper.

I guess that still is my reference point for an adult breakfast, though it is always a disappointment when I try it myself. Mom was right: Cookies are just too sweet for breakfast (as, of course, were 90% of the cereals I ate in their place).

What I want is something buttery with a bit of crispness and a sweetness that doesn’t overpower every other flavor. Too much sugar and you wind up with a one-dimensional cookie with no complexity.

I found my ideal while wandering through Florence one December. Trying desperately to keep warm, my wife and I happened into one of those little bakery shop/espresso bars that seem to be clustered three to a block in elegant Italian shopping areas.

At the time I was on a cookie mission, determined to try every variety I could find of the little cookies the Italians call brutti ma buoni , “ugly but good.” While my wife picked out some lapidary little pasticini, I was drawn to these little nondescript mounds of dough called rustiche . Technically, they weren’t brutti ma buoni , though they certainly fit the description.

*

More candied fruit peel, nuts and raisins than dough, they were tough little cookie-cakes, almost like cement scones. But they had a beguiling hint of sweetness and a pleasing interplay of flavors that were perfect with a hot, slightly bitter cup of cappuccino.

I ate them by breaking off the corners--I didn’t want to attack them head-on and wind up having to look for a dentist in a foreign country. Besides, that way--stuffed in my pocket and broken out for emergencies--they lasted long enough to get me through not only the Mercato Centrale but a couple of museums as well.

In fact, they lasted all the way home. A year later I came across a napkin-wrapped fragment of rustiche in one of the pockets of my winter coat. I popped it into my mouth and crunched down--the texture was about the same, even if the flavor had faded a bit.

After that, though I looked far and wide, I never succeeded in finding a cookie like it. Everything I tried was either too sweet or too simple. Nothing had that kind of authoritative austerity. Then I found fisherman’s breads-- pane del pescatore , actually--in Franco Galli’s fine “The Il Fornaio Baking Book” (Chronicle Books: 1993, $19.95). They’re richer and a bit softer than my old favorite, but I’ll forgive them that. In fact, I think I like them better--with their rich crumbly dough, they’re no danger to dental work.

*

Galli credits the breads to Genoa, “where fishermen have historically packed them for long sea journeys.” Well, maybe, but those must be some awfully wealthy fishermen. I think it’s more likely those guys were lugging something closer to my rustiche than these butter-enriched babies. But the flavor is right--buttery dough, tart lemon and orange peel, aromatic fennel, just a tad sweet. . . . They’re the perfect coffee cookie--for breakfast or just for snacking.

If grandpa had known about them, they might even have beaten out the sugar cookie.

*

FISHERMAN’S BREAD

(Pane del Pescatore)

3/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature

5 tablespoons sugar

1 whole egg

1 egg yolk

2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

3/4 cup golden raisins

1/4 cup diced candied orange peel

1/4 cup diced candied lemon peel

4 teaspoons fennel seeds

3 tablespoons milk

3 tablespoons dry Marsala

Combine butter and sugar in large mixing bowl. Beat until fluffy, light and pale in color, 5 to 7 minutes on medium speed of electric mixer. Add whole egg and continue to beat, scraping down sides of bowl. Add yolk and beat well, scraping down sides of bowl again.

In separate mixing bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, raisins, candied orange and lemon peels and fennel seeds. Add half flour mixture to butter mixture and mix until dry ingredients are thoroughly incorporated. Beat in 2 tablespoons milk and Marsala. Add remaining flour mixture and continue to mix just until rough, shaggy dough forms.

Turn dough out onto lightly floured board and knead with lightly floured hands until dough is soft but still slightly sticky, about 2 minutes. Divide dough into 2 equal portions. Shape each portion into ball and then, using palms of hands, flatten balls into disks about 1 inch thick.

Line baking sheet with parchment paper or grease with butter. Place shaped loaves on baking sheet. With small serrated knife, cut simple shallow grid pattern in top of each loaf. Brush tops with remaining 1 tablespoon milk.

Bake loaves at 350 degrees until light golden-brown and wood pick inserted in center comes out dry, 35 to 40 minutes. Remove to wire racks to cool completely. Makes 2 (6-inch) loaves, about 8 servings.

Each serving contains about:

399 calories; 143 mg sodium; 107 mg cholesterol; 19 grams fat; 50 grams carbohydrates; 6 grams protein; 0.54 gram fiber.