This is the type of recipe I love best. My mom has been making these (cookies? meringues? some weird hybrid of both?) for as long as I could remember. She got them from my great-grandmother Mary, who we used to visit at her retirement home in Santa Fe. I have nothing but the most magical memories of our trips to Santa Fe, and these magical little confections are a fitting reminder of those visits. The name is Spanish for "breath," and it's an apt moniker. One bite and the cookies dissolve into air.
