Every time my fi(ancé) and I go to his parent's house for Christmas, we are not only greeted by his lovely family, but also stacks upon stacks upon stacks of pizzelles smiling as us. They are proudly made by my future sister-in-law's father-in-law (did you follow that?) The great thing about these is that all you really need is a pizzelle maker and a fabulous recipe. I've got you half way there friends. Behold, the recipe:

Italian Pizzelles
Yield: a bazillion servings

Ingredients
12 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup butter - melted
2 cup sugar
4 cup flour
1 tablespoon anise
3 tsp other flavor (orange, vanilla, almond)

Directions
1. Mix together eggs, oil, butter, sugar and flour in a medium sized bowl.
2. Stir in anise. Add other flavors OR play around with this part. Try separating out the batter and add a little of one flavor, test and so on. My fi's sister also tried adding a heaping scoop of <my favorite condiment> Nutella to the batter and she had one word for it: AMAZING!
3. Add spoonful of batter to hot pizzelle maker, hold down for 1 min or so (it will depend on your maker) and fork off onto a cooling rack. You will probably have to do a trial and error on this part.
4. Once cooled, pizzelles should be waffley-crispy when you chomp into them. Experiment with the time it's in the maker if it's coming out too soft.

Dazzle a Italian stallion or bella ragazza with these delights!

I'm about 4 here, but you get the gist of what 3 year old Courtney looked like. I'm holding my very tolerant cat, Smudgie.

When I was 3 years old, I did something very, very bad. Lets take a trip back in time, shall we? It was a few days after Christmas and I was super jealous of what one of my sister's gave the other sister: a shoebox full of all of her favorite candies. My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when my sis opened the lid for the first time. It was like this forbidden treasure that I wanted in a bad way. My sister's knew this of course, so they decided to keep this box o' heaven well out of my T-Rex 3 year old reach: on top of their bedroom bookshelf. You know, it would have been a great hiding place if I didn't see where it lived whenever they generously shared a piece of candy with me. Suckers.

A couple days later, when they were babysitting me and my bro, I gingerly (pun intended) snuck away with one thing in mind: IT'S CANDY O'CLOCK! I don't know how I did it, but I scaled that bookshelf like a ninja and snagged that shoebox like it was nobody's business. After making my way back to solid ground, I bolted to my bedroom, dove under the bed and settled in for a nice little snack. When my sisters noticed I was missing, they started looking and calling for me for the next hour. They passed my room several times, but I wasn't about to reveal my hiding place and what I was up to. My sister's recall this next part very clearly. When they walked past my room at one point, they heard a tiny voice call out "the laaaaaasst one!" They looked under my bed and I was popping the last candy in my mouth while sitting in a sea full of candy wrappers. They were both a tornado of anger, to put it lightly.

I'm just now having this realization, well over a decade later, MAN do I owe my sister a shoebox full of her favorite candies. Alas, Christmas isn't too far away, is it? Too soon?

Recipe: Italian Pizzelles

Story: The Laaaast One!

Dessert Fiend