Miss my boys…
Wanted a cookie Friday afternoon before last to the nth degree. The. Nth. Degree.
Before Twitter, I would have opened a cookbook for a recipe. But I’ve met so many wonderful cooking artists on Twitter, that I whipped open my mini and logged on to one of the many — the one being Two Peas and Their Pod — and plunked oatmeal cookies in the search bar. A bunch of stuff popped-up, not all cookies, but there it was — the oatmeal cookie of my dreams: Peanut Butter Oatmeal Cookies with chocolate chips. Three cookies rolled into one. Ding. Ding.
Maria substituted mini Reese’s peanut butter cups for the chocolate and I, having neither option, sent Mr. G, honey racing to the store for semi-sweet chocolate chips. He was thrilled to be furthering the cause of home baked cookies; truth be told, cooked anything after the Horrible Heat Wave. I say that in my head with all caps.
Zip. Zip. And he was back with two boxes. Uh, oh. The last time I visited the grocery store — last month, maybe last year — chips didn’t come in boxes. He’d brought me Baker’s semi-sweet chocolate.
We might have had the little these-aren’t-chocolate-chips talk. But it’s okay. I was on a mission, and nothing was impossible.
I whipped out a honking big knife, got all Rambo’d up, and chopped that semi-sweet into yummy, edible chunks. Then, it was mix, mix, stir, stir, scoop, scoop, plop, plop.
It was as I was taking the first tray out of the oven that it hit me. I miss my boys. I don’t have any boys, but I inherited two lean-growing-into-their-feet-cami-covered geek boys when the kidlet hit 8th grade. They hung out mostly on my doorstep, ventured into the front hall occasionally, and stampeded into the kitchen when cookies were baking.
One boy could smell cookies up one and two blocks over and would mysteriously appear at the door. We wondered why he never rang the doorbell, but we always knew he was there. We could feel him. The other boy made smiley faces in all our cookies. Best smiley faces ever. Ever.
These former stoop-standing-hall-lounging-kitchen-venturing Army Cadets are now serving in our Canadian Armed Forces, and I miss their cooking-sleuthing-baking-eating-ways.
I tend to make small cookies, because I get a bigger happy eating two small cookies instead of one big cookie. It’s how I roll. But we have a little cookie baking tradition here at La Casa Elen. As we get to the bottom of the bowl, when there isn’t enough dough left for a decent cookie sheet, we make one big cookie.
Got a cookie baking tradition? Quirk? Oddity? Let’s hear it.
You can find Maria tweeting @ TwoPeasandPod. I love how she thinks about food.
Miss my boys.
The awesome kidlet — well, she’s mine forever.
