When I was growing up, rugelach were ever-present in my grandmother's kitchen, under a cake dome on the counter, right where we walked into the kitchen. There, she would stash homemade batches of the flaky nut- and jam-filled cookies, for "the kids." My grandmother's rugelach were legendary—she carried them to bake sales, ladies' lunches, and card parties. Long before I understood their deli-case ubiquity, I loved rugelach unabashedly. As an adult, when I spied these treats in delis and bakeries, I barely recognized them. What were those spiral cookies? Where were the crescents? These were dry and cakey, the jams...