My postcard-sized kitchen won't forgive much when it comes to buying food items I have no idea how to use.

Nevertheless, I had to buy a bag of cacao nibs when my son pointed them out to me at our local health food store.

Cacao nibs look like little wood chips and smell like the wild side of heaven. They're what you're left with after cacao beans have been harvested, fermented, dried, roasted, and shelled.

Eating cacao nibs is a heady experience because cacao nibs pack all the punch of pure chocolate without even a hint of sweetness.

When I was very young, I was rummaging around in our kitchen pantry and was delighted to find a box of chocolate. It was labeled unsweetened, but those foil-wrapped chunks looked so glossy and delectable, I couldn't believe they would taste like anything but chocolate candy bars. Lucky for me, I didn't take too big a bite.

Cacao nibs are a little like that. The difference is that they look a little like nutmeats, so that the raw pungency of pure cocoa doesn't feel as unexpected. The roughness of flavor and texture are a good blend, unlike the contradiction between the silky texture and shatteringly strong cocoa-flavor of unsweetened chocolate. Nibs still take some getting used to, though.

There were exactly no instructions or serving suggestions on the package I purchased. Apparently, if you're going to buy cacao nibs, the manufacturer thinks it's safe to assume that you know what you're doing and don't need any help.

I showed my nibs proudly to admiring, if baffled, friends and relatives, and then put them on the shelf while I figured out what on earth they'd be good for.

I nibbled one now and then. But an eight-ounce bag of nibs can take an awful lot of nibbling without showing a difference.

I'm not much of a savory cook, and I realized with a sinking feeling that cacao nibs needed to be treated like savories rather than sweets. Gamely, I tried to think outside dessert.

Treating the nibs like nuts and tossing them into salads worked. Sprinkling a handful over hot cooked cereal was nice, too, and definitely woke me up in the morning.

I could feel myself tiptoeing back to dessert territory, and I didn't fight it. Just because the nibs weren't sweet themselves didn't mean their surroundings couldn't be.

I decided that the best medium for a strong, harsh, echoing cocoa flavor would be a sweet, buttery cushion. A play on opposites. And so I came up with a simple cacao-nib cookie. I thought it would be a grownup treat for a sophisticated teatime, but my son got his hands on one of these and clamored for more.

To make a small batch, soften a stick (half a cup) of butter and put an egg out on the counter to keep it company and come to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Cream the butter and half a cup of sugar until very light and fluffy. Add the egg and a teaspoon of real vanilla extract and beat thoroughly.

In another bowl, stir together one and a quarter cup all-purpose flour, half a teaspoon baking powder, and a quarter teaspoon salt. Stir into the sugar-butter mixture.

Now measure out between an eighth and a quarter cup of cacao nibs, depending on how strong you want the cacao taste to be and how crunchy the cookies. Stir in a little at a time, to be sure you get the density you want. Grownups may enjoy a good dose of cacao; for children, I would lean toward less.

As is, these rather resemble pecan-butter cookies. If you want more of an uninterrupted cocoa theme, stir in a tablespoon or two of unsweetened cocoa powder.

Either way, spoon the batter in rounded teaspoons onto a cookie sheet, and bake for eight to ten minutes. These are wonderful with a cup of coffee or tea.