Langue de Chat - Cat Tongue Cookies!

Langues de chat, French for Tongue of the Cat, or Cat Tongue Cookies. How could you keep from making something with that great of a name? Well, you can't, that's all. And once you have, you'll make them again. I'm a sucker for anything French, sweet, and with a great name. All my boxes checked, I set into making them.

I found the recipe in a magazine called French Cooking. It had some recipes in it that I had already tried from a Victoria magazine, so I think it was a compilation from the publisher. Between this one and the ones I had tried from Victoria, I've made five of the recipes and I have four more earmarked. I made each of the cookies below. 

The orange browned butter, and the chocolate sables were okay, but not worth making again. I would make the palmier again, simply because they lend themselves to every flavor combination under the sun and are so easy (you use store-bought puff pastry) that it seems like cheating. They are a great item to quickly throw together for a second ( or third) dessert when you are making one very complicated one. But on the Cat Tongues!

The recipe is simple and with few ingredients. My problem was the piping. I've said it before and I'll say it again- I am piping challenged. And it said to make lines of batter ½ inch wide, but did not say what size tip. Did I use a small one and press hard and let it spread, or did I need a ½ inch tip, which I didn't have? I ended up simply cutting off the tip of my piping bag to a ½ inch hole and piping with no tip. I even started out trying to measure the width and length, but quickly gave that up. (Surprise, surprise)

I flung the cookies into the oven with no real hope of glory. They came out with very brown edges in half the recommended time, and looked like they had spread too thin. The edges were lacy with spread batter instead of having smooth sides. I have since gotten a book on French pastry by the leading school of French Patisserie. Their recipe says to only use room temperature egg whites so the butter does not separate. Ah-ha! Trust the French to have a secret trick for their cookies. Next time I will use their recipe.

I was worried the cookies would simply be crusty bits that fell to pieces, but then I tasted one and it was that buttery-ness that made me pause. It was very good, crisp and delicate. The recipe said to make a mint-chocolate ganache for dipping, but, as much as I love mint and chocolate, I opted for just plain dark chocolate. Because they were giving me the vibe of those paper packets of Milano cookies from the grocery. They are one of the only store-bought kinds of cookies I will eat.

So, I attempted an artful dip on the tips. Turns out I am dipping challenged as well. I have to say these guys turned out really homely. (In case you are unfamiliar with this Southern term, it does not mean anything like homey or cozy. No, it means they are just plain ugly. As in, "That is a handsome dog, but her pups are down right homely!" Then is a good time to insert a "bless her heart". Needless to say, it's a great word to have in your repertoire.) 

They are ugly, but the taste! My youngest son walked in and screeched to a halt by the cookies. The first thing he said was, “Are these like Milanos?!” I told him to try and see. He nodded thoughtfully while munching. “Not bad,” was his verdict, which is like a 9.5 on the Olympic score card, along with a fist bump.

I set them on the table after our dinner and he and my hubby ate several. I cleared the dishes and was loading the dishwasher, and hubby still hadn't come out of the dining room. When he did, he was carrying a cookie. “These little suckers are addictive,” he muttered. When I went back in to retrieve the tray, I could see he wasn't lying!

Here's the thing, Dear Reader. Like so many other delicate and lovely things, they are ephemeral. When these are first dipped and served, they are perfection. The end of the cookie without chocolate is crisp and melts in your mouth. The chocolate dip has just begun to soften it's half, giving a wonderful contrast in texture in those two bites. But as the evening went on the texture continued to change. There weren't any left to test the theory, but I think they would have gone soft by the next day. Perhaps you could make the cookies, cool them, and wrap them airtight. Then you could dip them right before they were eaten. Or, they may just need to be baked and then consumed with vigor. But honestly, isn't it the things that are fleeting in their perfection that are so memorable?

Cat's Tongues, not just a great name, but a delectable cookie. Wouldn't your family get a kick out of a tray full?