Friday, December 19, 2008

It's just not the same...

This year, Mom let me make the sugar cookies. It might not sound like such a big deal to you, but let me assure you, this is the first time in twenty-five years I've ever seen Mom relinquish her sugar-cooking-baking rights. She didn't exactly "give" me the recipe (it may have been stolen and copied from her super-secret recipe box right before I moved, go figure), but she did point me in the right direction for her traditional frosting.

I labored in the kitchen all last night mixing dough, chilling dough, rolling and cutting and scraping dough, wadding up misshapen cookies to try again, and finally baking cookies (without burning them thanks to about a dozen different prayers). They tasted okay, but they just weren't the same. Too dry maybe? Too much flour? Too much cream of tarter?

This afternoon, on my snow/sick day (a headache and not wanting to drive in the three inches of snow Corvallis received overnight--don't worry, they cookies are not contaminated by germs), I mixed up a giant batch of frosting. We've never iced cookies: they're frosted with a buttercream frosting like none other. Well, okay, the recipe comes right off the box of powdered sugar, but it's sooooooooo yummy. I stirred and mixed and blended and moaned my way through the bowl of thick sugary goodness. Then I divided the frosting into green and red halves and applied it to all of the cookies, a few of my fingers, one of my cheeks, and somehow a strand or twenty of hair. Yeah, I'm that good. Sprinkles topped everything off, green and red ones, and I even dashed in some colorful nonpareils. Or however you spell those little dots.

So the cookies are made, frosted, and taste-tested by two cookie-savvy people. And you know what? They're pretty good. Not perfect, but certainly tasty. They look beautiful! But it's just not the same without Mom's touch. It's just not the same...

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