Today’s story about the meticulous gingerbread Home Alone house has us wondering: Is yours a gingerbread-house-constructing household? If I’ve made five in my life, I’d be surprised. Once or twice in my youth—perhaps only in years when holiday break fell early and there were an excess of pre-Christmas days to fill with activities—we would pick up the big kit from the grocery store, which came with “gingerbread” that you weren’t technically allowed to eat, chalky icing that looked and felt much more like joint compound, and gumdrops that weren’t the least bit tempting, whether edible or not. We would construct them in the cold basement on big dropcloths to avoid making a mess of the rooms that would house our extended family on Christmas Eve. But the final product was always a delight worth slogging away for, and the few days during which the gingerbread house would sit out on the buffet before mice became a concern would fill me with pride.
That is, until the moment when I saw anyone else’s gingerbread houses, which were infinitely more clever in their use of candy canes, cinnamon drops, and even food coloring, forming red-and-green checkerboard roof shingling that left my own creation feeling overwhelmingly... brown. These days, however, I’ve been tempted to pick up the piping bag once more. It’s a particularly cooped-up holiday season, and we’re all feeling craftier than ever, no matter our skill level. And to hell with the store-bought kit—when you use plain old graham crackers, you get to take things in any architectural direction you like, rather than being confined to the traditional Colonial proportions of the prepackaged stuff. Perhaps I’ll build a stately gingerbread Usonian home this year?
Inspire us with stories (and photos!) of your best edible holiday houses. I have everything to learn from your gingerbread genius.