When I was a little girl, letter writing and sending packages was the only contact we had with my grandmother in Switzerland, write Barbara Fayeulle of Longmont, Colorado. Every year, we would receive a cookie tin from her a couple of weeks before Christmas. When we would open it, the fabulous aroma of traditional Swiss Christmas cookies filled the kitchen and brought my grandmother close to me and to her son, my dad. After she passed away, Spitzbuben disappeared from our Christmas celebrations. Later, while on holiday in Switzerland, I plundered my aunt's recipe box and came upon my grandmother's recipe. What a surprise my dad received when he opened up the tin that Christmas. Spitzbuben were his favorite treat when he was growing up in Switzerland. Now I send him a huge tin of the cookies every year—to the chagrin of my mom, who watches his waistline.