Ma’amoul Hamantaschen

Ma’amoul Hamantaschen

If I had one word to describe these hamantaschen, it would be #proud. Yes they’re melt-in-your-mouth delicious, super buttery and also crispy, but the word I would use to describe them has nothing to do with how they taste. It has to do with how they make me feel.

I’ve always felt that food does so much more than nourish us. It connects us to our past, our present and our future. Traditional food, especially, has the power to bridge generations. Preparing the same dishes that my mother made, and my grandmother before her, allows me to pass on the flavors and smells of my childhood to my children in a way that nothing else can.

That’s why these hamantaschen mean so much to me. Not only do they reflect the traditions of my Ashkenazic heritage, they also represent the flavors and culture of my husband’s Sephardic hertitage.

While my husband is Ashkenazi like me, his mother was born and raised in Argentina, but her roots trace back to Syria. She grew up eating ma’amoul, rosewater-scented cookies filled with either date or walnut filling. When I got married, ma’amoul always made an appearance at parties and simchot and their interesting shape always intrigued me.

Traditional ma’amoul is molded into different shapes using a special cookie press. The cookie is shaped differently, depending on the filling. My mother in law always used tweezers to decorate her ma’amoul, which I found really interesting. When I came up with the idea to fuse the classic hamantasch with Syrian flavors, I went to my husband’s aunt, Esther, for a cookie baking class.

Esther is a cook after my own heart. She likes to do things simply, without fancy tools or supplies (which explains the tweezer method!). She mixed up the ma’amoul in no time, while I attempted to measure her pinches of spice and sprinkles of flour. She expertly shaped the dough faster than I could follow and before long, they were out of the oven and covered in a snowfall of powdered sugar.

Of course I went back home and it wasn’t all that simple. For starters, traditional ma’amoul dough does not have egg, so it wouldn’t hold as a hamantasch. I was determined to make it work, and 6 batches later, I struck gold (or should I say rosewater?!). These ma’amoul hamantaschen are the perfect blend of buttery and crispy, thanks to the butter and semolina, respectfully. I’m super proud of this Sephardic-Ashkenazi fusion and I hope I’ve started a new trend in my family tree.

Now that we’ve got the Purim party started, stay tuned for lots of other exciting holiday recipes, coming soon!

Related Recipes:

baklava hamantaschen
date and almond hamantaschen
healthy thumbprint hamantaschen

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11 thoughts on “Ma’amoul Hamantaschen

  1. Hi, I have a question. Do you mix the date and walnut mixtures together to use to fill the hamentashen or leave them separate? Thank you

  2. I love how you integrate your husbands and your heritage into the foods you make. My husband is Danish and English – but aside from the tea, fish ‘n chips, and butter cookies – he isn’t much of a Danish/English food fan. So I feel like my Italian heritage dominates our kitchen.

    I love dates. these look lovely and super delicious. I will surely give them a try!

    1. Thank you! Fusing our heritage through food is one of my favorite things to do! I think I would have a harder time if I had to fuse Danish and Italian!

  3. I finally made these! They came out absolutely delicious but the dough was hard to work with. It was very crumbly so I added a tiny bit of water. And then I dusted the dough with flour and rolled it between sheets of parchment. The nut filling is awesome–I added some pistachios as well. And for the last batch that I rolled out, I mixed the two fillings. As I was making them I was nervous they wouldn’t hold together. But in the end, the hamentaschen were so flaky and fragrant and so so delicious. I got 34 hamentaschen out of one recipe.

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