Bet you can’t eat just one
Every year, a tin appears at the office. It doesn’t matter what office I’m working in, and no one ever admits to having brought it in. Layers upon layers of little fluted paper cups filled with the scourge of my existence: the evil, small Danish butter cookies that call to me. Eat just one more, they say. Aren’t we pretty with our scalloped edges and our sugar crystals on top?
I don’t buy these myself. I know better than that. If I did, someone would find me, lying in the corner of my apartment, surrounded by empty paper cups and sugar crystals, muttering to myself that I’m really just conducting a scientific experiment about the difference in taste between the square ones and the ones shaped like pretzels.
I have a question for you, people of Denmark. Do you eat the Danish butter cookies? Do you? And do you only eat them at Christmas? Or is this some kind of low-tech attempt to take over America?
Laura
Anita
jen maiser
Kristina
The Inadvertent Gardener
Marisa McClellan
none of these this year in our office, but a French co-worker brought back a sleeve of Galettes de Bretagne (the cookies, not the buckwheat crepes), which are pretty much the same thing …with the same end result.
these are dangerously good…stacks. at a time.
Anita, oh dear…those cookies are awesome.
Jeanne, seriously…dangerously good.
That is so funny, I passed these at the grocery store yesterday and paused for more than a second. I couldn’t bring myself to buy them, but if they were in the office…
Cheryl, good for you for holding strong. I don’t think I’ve ever bought them, myself, but yeah…having them in the office is some kind of torture.