It’s a rainy green day with the promise of poppies and daisies waiting to perk up again after the welcome soaking. The dogs are content to stay in the house, delicate flowers that they are, so I need to find something to do other than stare out the window and watch the peonies being dragged to their certain demise. Peonies in full bloom are Mother Nature’s way of warning a heavy rain is coming.
Today’s the day to stay in the kitchen and make cookies. It’s my particular joy to sift through the handwritten recipes to find today’s choosing. I must have 50 cookie recipes, some really old ones called Parkins and some new ones, lemon dainties. I’ve got ones that make two dozen, not nearly enough for our house, and ones that make six dozen, enough to make and freeze against the day the jar is empty and the thermometer is registering above sensible for baking. My grandmother, my mother, my dear friends have all contributed to this litany of goodness, and as I flip the pages I find notes that add their personal touch and recall their presence like it was yesterday.
Whatever is in the cupboard is inspiration. Maybe this week we’ve got peanut butter, and next it’ll be oatmeal. I’ve got a recipe called Fa-La-Las and one called Everything Cookies which are very forgiving — anything can be added to that batter, dropped from the spoon, and they are sure to please when they’re baked. Chocolate chips are usually skipped in favour of raisins, and those might be fancied up with dried cranberries. Orange peel can stand in for lemon in a pinch, and pecans always replace walnuts. In fact, if I’m really stuck for fillers, I’d chop up a Skor bar or some cashews.
There are some things that you can’t substitute, though. My aunt’s recipe calls for corn flakes. Don’t be using Special K instead. Don’t make shortbread with margarine; you have to use butter, so considering the price of butter, save those cookies for special occasions. If you have enough butter, make butter tarts and do not skimp on the butter, sugar and eggs. Mom says: “a full cup of brown sugar, and pack that down well,” so I always do. Yum!
I’ve been making cookies for 60-plus years and have never eaten one I didn’t like. The best ones are those made by someone else, though. I never ask for their recipe, just that they might make them again for me. Someone I know makes oatmeal raisin cookies to die for, and I sure hope to see those coming our way again. It’s likely her mother’s recipe and can’t be improved upon, so why would I even try?
I’ve got an ancient cookie press that makes dainty little hearts or trees when I want something special. It’s fun to use but a nuisance to clean up. The “roll in little balls and squish” ones are not too bad when I can use the potato masher to get a pretty design on them. My favourites are “drop from a spoon”. I’ve always wanted a little scoop thing to do these, but two spoons work wonders. I get out both cookie sheets and I can have a batch of warm cookies on the counter in less than 20 minutes using the two-spoon method. None of that chill, wait, cut business.
There’s something special about a homemade cookie that a store-bought one can never replace. A fistful of real oatmeal cookie still warm from the oven evokes times past in the first mouthful. I love to see children in a bakery as they are offered a real cookie. They bite into it gently, and savour it. They may do this with their favourite Oreo too, but that one offered morsel is obviously a treat.
Baking is an easy skill that gets short shrift when time is of the essence. Mrs. Google is only too happy to provide a cornucopia of recipes. Just give her your ingredients and there it is. All it takes is a big bowl, a spoon, a flat pan, and you’re in business. If you’ve got twenty minutes that you can spare from your cell phone, you can make your own cookies. However, if the whole thing intimidates you, ask anyone “‘of a certain age” and you will get no end of advice. My ratty old recipe book holds enough goodness for both of us any time you think you’d like to try!