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In the interest of full cookie disclosure, it should also be noted that I currently have dozens of boxes of Girl Scout cookies sitting on my dining room table, which is what happens when you run a G.S. I'm slowly nibbling my way through the bag. Sabrina really liked the Stelle, so I did the mature thing: I hid them in the back of a kitchen cupboard. It seems like it could be worth it, although it might be a little tricky justifying that trip to Dave.

My hunch is I'd have to travel to Italy to find them. The packaging has a photo of a Pan di Stelle Mooncake. So really, I wasn't gorging, just making up for lost carbs. In fact, accounting for the fact that I haven't eaten these cookies for 12 years, and there are 20 cookies per bag, that's an average of. Most stores still closed in the afternoon when I was there, so people could enjoy time with their families. Everything about Italy is incredible-the food, the art, the architecture, the clothes, the general sentiment that life is meant to be celebrated. I sat at the kitchen table, reminiscing about my five months in Florence. Exhibiting a complete lack of self control, I ate about half the bag when I got home. Exhibiting extraordinary self control, I only bought one.

There were three bags of them on the shelf. As I wandered through the store, I spotted the cookies and I'm pretty sure I let out an actual gasp. I'd heard they make good sandwiches, and I was craving a turkey sub. Then I visited a grocer in our area for the first time. They were a treat I only bought at a store, sticking with the tradition of my Florentine days. It's funny, I never had the desire to order them online, which of course you can given that you can purchase everything on the Internet except new relatives. Then we moved to the 'burbs, I had kids and I never bothered finding them again because there are approximately eleventy billion other things I have to do besides tracking down cookies I love. After they broke up, I persuaded an Italian deli in Hoboken, NJ, to order them for me. In my twenties, my friend Betsy was my supplier she'd bring back bags for me when she went to visit her boyfriend in Florence.

The psychologist who we roomed with, Gioia, would make us a delicious pasta dinner and then Marianne and I headed out for the evening's adventure-a bar, a club, a coffee house. Often, when I got home from school in the villa at Piazza Savonarola, my roommate and I would veg out in front of Italian game shows, do homework and down the cookies. They are simple, not too sweet and oh-so-chocolatey satisfying. They're made with cocoa and hazelnuts, with 11 tiny white iced stars on every cookie. The memories I associate with their taste are inextricably tied to that wondrous time in my life, although these cookies are absolutely delicious, period.Ĭreated by Mulino Bianco (basically, the Italian version of Pepperidge Farm), their name translates to "bread of the stars" and that's not over-promising. They make me very happy, and that's partly due to the fact that I first tried them when I studied in Florence, Italy as a junior in college. Last weekend, a carb miracle occurred: I discovered my favorite cookies of all time, Pan di Stelle, at a local Italian grocery.
