Witch Finger Cookies

Halloween is, without doubt, my favorite holiday of the year. I plan for it months in advance. My decorations go up in early October and don't come down until well into January (okay, maybe March). And as for the day itself? It's all about the costumes—even for my food.

I tried my hand at vampire mouth sandwich cookies, which make for a fun, goofy presentation. But sometimes a girl just wants her cookies to be a little more, well, dead and bloody.

What if I told you your witch finger cookies—yes, the ones that are scattered all over Pinterest and cooking blogs internet-wide—could crush the competition? What if I told you your witch finger cookies could look grotesque and still taste great? What if I told you your witch finger cookies could BLEED?

Presenting buttery shortbread cookies, filled with a tart-sweet raspberry jam. Not only does the jam give the fingers a bleeding effect when you bite in, but they come out moist and flavorful, to boot.

The process is simpler than it looks at first glance, especially once you get the hang of it. It starts off with a quick and easy shortbread dough—sweet, a hint salty, and delectably buttery.

When the dough's ready, I split it into two batches. The real key to working with this dough is keeping it cold. So any time it starts to feel soft or mushy, can pop it back in the fridge until firm again and work with the other batch for a bit. Unless you want to bake bloody puddles, of course. In which case, you should probably stop reading this post.

Once the dough's divided, I roll out the dough into thin, 1/4-inch thick sheets and promptly refrigerate them on parchment paper-lined rimmed baking sheets until they're firm and cool. Removing only one baking sheet at a time, I slice the dough into long, 1-inch strips, which will each eventually yield two cookies.

Then, I bend up the sides to form a long curled trough—this is where our jam will go, and shaping is this way ensures the jam stays inside the cookie Tempting as it may be to stuff the cookies with a whole lot of jam, stick to around one heaping teaspoon for each strip. Otherwise, the jam actually creates leaky cracks in the surface of the dough when it heats up in the oven.

Next, it's time to pinch the strip closed, forming a long tube. I give it a couple of gentle rolls to make sure it's nice and cylindrical. Cut each rolled cylinder in two—they should now be about as long as a real finger, but quite a bit skinnier. They'll spread a fair amount in the oven.

I pinch one end shut and dab it with jam before pressing an almond sliver on to form a "nail."

Then, I squeeze the sides to create a bulged "knuckle" at the center of the cookie. And then comes the transformative moment: using the dull edge of a knife (or even just a spoon), I press wrinkle lines into the joint areas, like so:

Doesn't that look so fingery?

Once your cookies are all lined up, chilled one last time, and ready to go, it's just a quick 15 to 20 minute bake between you and your crumbly, buttery, jammy, golden-brown severed digits.