The Ultimate Hamantaschen Recipe (Drunken Cherry-Chocolate)

What’s Purim without a little nosh? Costumes, the megillah reading, mishloach manot (gift baskets), and hamantaschenthe crown jewel of Purim’s culinary lineup. But these triangular pastries, often filled with poppy seeds , chocolate, or jam, aren’t just an excuse to eat dessert before dinner. They’re steeped in history, with a story that’s as twisty as Haman’s plot.


Grab your rolling pins and your curiosity – let’s dig into the origins of these three-cornered treats and then dive headfirst into a recipe for Drunken Cherry Chocolate Hamantaschen that’s sure to steal the show (and maybe the holiday).


A Brief History of Hamantaschen: What Is Hamantaschen?

The name “hamantaschen” is often misunderstood. In Hebrew, they’re called oznei Haman, or “Haman’s ears,” sparking a long-standing myth that these pastries celebrate the cutting off of Haman’s ears before his demise. But fear not – there’s no historical evidence of such barbarism, nor is there a record of Haman sporting oddly triangular ears.


Instead, the name might come from the Yiddish word tash (pocket) paired with mohn (poppy seeds), giving us “poppy-seed pockets.” These pockets pay homage to Queen Esther’s diet of seeds and legumes, which she adhered to while concealing her Jewish identity in King Achashverosh’s court. And let’s not forget Daniel, her faithful advisor according to the Talmud, who also survived on seeds in exile. So, those poppy-filled pastries? They’re not just delicious; they’re a culinary shout-out to survival and faith.


But why the triangle? Some say it’s a nod to Haman’s infamous three-cornered hat (though history may beg to differ). Others point to the triangle as a symbol of the Jewish forefathers, whose merit weakened Haman’s strength. Either way, it’s safe to say hamantaschen have a corner on the Purim market – literally.

Drunken Cherry Chocolate Hamantaschen Recipe

Hold on to your hats (three-cornered or otherwise) – this recipe isn’t your bubbe’s poppy-seed classic. It’s got cherries, chocolate, and just enough wine to make your guests wonder if they should eat it or sip it. Let’s make some magic.


Dough

  • ¾ cup oil

  • 1 cup sugar

  • 3 eggs

  • ¼ cup milk or non-dairy substitute

  • 1½ teaspoons vanilla extract

  • 3½ cups flour

  • ⅔ cup Dutch-process cocoa

  • 4 teaspoons baking powder

  • ¼ teaspoon salt

Drunken Cherry Filling

  • 1 (12-ounce) bag frozen dark cherries, thawed

  • ⅓ cup dry red wine (don’t worry, the alcohol cooks out – mostly)

  • ¼ cup sugar

  • 1 tablespoon cornstarch

  • ¼ teaspoon cinnamon

Directions

Step 1: Dough – Because Every Good Recipe Starts with Chocolate and Chaos

Cream the oil and sugar together in a mixer until it looks like you’ve made sandcastle paste (it’s supposed to look weird, trust the process). Add eggs, milk, and vanilla, beating until smooth enough to convince your kitchen it’s edible. In another bowl, sift the dry ingredients. Slowly add them to your wet mixture – emphasis on slowly, unless you enjoy flour clouds. Mix until a dough forms, wrap it up like a Chanukah present, and refrigerate for at least two hours.


Step 2: Filling – Wine Not?

In a saucepan, combine cherries, wine, sugar, cornstarch, and cinnamon. Stir like you’re auditioning for a cooking show until the cornstarch dissolves. Heat the mixture until it thickens, bubbles, and smells so good you briefly consider eating it straight from the pot. Cool, then chill.


Step 3: Rolling and Filling – Triangles Are the New Circles

Preheat your oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper (or risk losing half your pastries to sticky trays). Divide the dough into four parts and roll one out on a floured surface to about ¼-inch thickness. Cut out circles using a cookie cutter or the nearest drinking glass.


Place a cherry with a little sauce in the center of each circle, then fold the sides up into a triangle. Pinch those corners like your life depends on it – nobody likes a hamantasch blowout.


Step 4: Baking – Patience Is a Virtue

Place your hamantaschen on the baking sheet and bake for 12–14 minutes, until they’re set but not hard enough to double as building materials. Cool on a rack (if you can resist eating them straight from the tray).

Chef’s Touch: Glitz and Glam

Want to get fancy? Drizzle them with white chocolate or dip one corner in melted chocolate. Not necessary, but then again, neither are sprinkles, and we all know how that story ends!