Fat Rascals

The Recipe: My cousin Laura's rendition of an old-fashioned biscuit from Yorkshire in the north of England, peppered with dried currants. The dough is mixed by hand (so, hey, no mixer required!) and rolls out so easily. At Christmas, I especially like to make Fat Rascals in small star shapes just a bite or two big. But first, let me tell you a story about a boy on my street. Would cookies help, even a little? Mornings, I watch a boy trudge up the street on his way to school. He’s maybe nine. His backpack hangs low, his head bends downward. Delaying the inevitable, he kicks at leaves, a rock, the curb. Afternoons, I watch the same-but-different boy head down the street toward home. His steps are quick, his shoulders thrown back, his face lifts to the sun. Still heavy, the backpack now bounces. School may be hard for this man-in-the-making. Perhaps his classmates tease or the learning comes slowly. But my own wish for the nameless one is that his lively homeward ste