97 Years of Cookies

If I could add up all the batches of cookies that my grandmother made for me (and my cousins) it'd be way more than I've made yet in my days. But give me time; I just may out-bake her.


Warming to my baby daughter here, just 9 years ago, she's bright and light-hearted. And that's the way I hope my children remember her. It's how I will. For many grandchildren, it can be hard to relate to grandparents - their lives, histories, and tribulations can seem almost prehistoric. And our relationship was no different than most, I guess. But, now at 40+ years, I get how delighted she'd be when she cooked for others. That simple feeling of usefulness, being needed - even if it's just a meal - can be enough most days. And right up to her early eighties, she was enjoying being needed, whether it was a family visit or coffee and cookies with her neighborhood friends, "the ladies." But with age come daily challenges that had never before existed, and hers led her to a wonderful nursing home that cared for her in her final decade.

A body can only live for so long, but a soul survives the prolonged weight of time. Her nine great-grandchildren are living proof of that.

Peace.
LMS 1913 - 2010

The Art of Improvisation

The other day, I had made these Brownie Roll-Out Cookies from my favorite blog. They were fine, but for a chocolate cookie - with nothing really going for it other than the shape by which it was cut - I thought it was a lot of work. All that rolling, and flour, and dirty counter space. Too much for just a plain chocolate cookie. I had made two batches, because I was afraid I wouldn't have enough. But then when I started baking, and had to keep rolling, I found I had plenty, and there was no way I was going to keep rolling just to use up the dough and bake off all the cookies. So, I improvised. I took the remaining chunk of dough, and formed it into 2 logs, about 2 inches in diameter. I refrigerated them, and yesterday I had the occasion to bake them off as slice-and-bake cookies. Serendipitous, if you ask me. I had zippo time to make a batter and bake cookies, but I needed cookies. Absolutely could not show up to the game empty-handed. Well, slice-and-bake time. These baked perfectly as little disks, and to make them a bit different from the roll-out cookies from several days before, I sprinkled them with powdered sugar after they had cooled. Without all the rolling, these make for a perfectly delicious chocolate cookie. I won't roll them out again, but I will use the dough for the slice-and-bake method. Simple and tasty.

Two Teams, One Great Game. Two Flavors, One Great Cookie

Yes more baseball. But the good news is: more cookies.
If you've ever been to a NY Deli, or if you live anywhere near NY, you know what Black & White cookies are. A cake-y, domed cookie frosted on the flat side with half vanilla icing, and half chocolate icing. Usually these are wrapped in Stretch-Tite plastic wrap and left up top of the deli counter at the corner near where you pay. Of course they can stay there for days. To gauge freshness, pick the one with the least smooshes on it.

Today I made Black & White Cookies for the game. Our town's two teams went head to head in the first round of playoff games for the league. All our boys and all of us parents are friendly. We all knew it would be a bittersweet end for one of the teams, and it was a hard game to play. The cookie, to me, seemed fitting. The two flavors make for a great cookie, and two teams came together to play a great game. Each side is a winner, with a sweetness all its own. It was a labor of love, making 50 of these big cookies. Everyone was grateful and loved the treat. Tomorrow we are off to Playoff Game 2. I've got to get ready to bake again tomorrow. But this time, just for our team - win or lose.

Love of the Game, or Love of the Team?

Last night, my son's baseball team played a strong competitor, and felt that they needed the win to make the playoffs. (They didn't; due to other teams' losses, they are in, fair and square.) This game, played under the lights, on a steamy summer night, meant a lot to them, and the backdrop of the illuminated green grass, and dark tree line surrounding us all, made a serious impression as the first batter stepped up to the box. They tied the game with an inside-the-park homerun and kept it tied going into two extra innings. In the end, the other team had a walk-off hit, and won the game.

Some of our kids were upset. There had been a lot of drama on the other side: their head coach was kicked out for heckling the umpire's calls, and parents from the other side were joining in as a result. Then some kids on the other team were behaving badly on the field by kicking their batting helmets after a close out at first, or by throwing bats, and in return for their behavior they got yelled at publicly by their coaches - the ones that were left in the dugout. It was a dramatic evening for everyone.

But our coaches and players were gentlemen, and were appropriate with their enthusiasm. Don't get me wrong; they were hardly pushovers. But they were certainly respectful to the players, the official, the other team, and the game. It was probably the best game of the season, regardless of the loss.
Watching your child perform under pressure and with dignity is one of the most rewarding experiences as a parent. I was proud of all of the boys, and realized that, whereas I love the game of baseball and how it is an exact metaphor for life, I think I've come to love our team more. Their effort, joy, forgiveness, hope and success all come together to make a supportive unit for a group of boys that have all the luck they need, win or lose.

Mmmmemorable Recipes

These Chocolate Chip Brownies are my Mom's recipe. I still have her hand-written recipe and hope to keep it until long after I have my own grandchildren, like she does now. A recipe from an on-line site is nice to bake, taste and experience through the flavor and smells. But following her recipe, and lingering over the slant of her cursive, or the way she put "2 six-ounce packages semi-sweet choc. chips" makes it more of a tradition to me. (Do they even make "six ounce packages" of Nestle chips anymore?) But to follow a recipe that is hand-written gives me another way to re-live those days when this was baked for my enjoyment as a young girl, ready to snap up any edible treat offered to me. These days, I do the offering, and my kids do the snapping. It's a nice circle, this baking across generations.

We're all looking for that recipe that will be remembered long after the dishes are cleaned, and the thank yous for the dinner party have been sent. Those hand-written recipes deep in your recipe binder - the one that's splitting at its seams - are a great way to start remembering that a good recipe is always a good recipe. Like this one.

Mom's Chocolate Chip Brownies

1c. sugar
3/4 c. unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), softened
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 c. all purpose flour, sifted
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
2 six-ounce packages semi-sweet chocolate chips (or 12 oz, divided)
1/2 c. chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2) Beat sugar and butter in electric mixer until light and fluffy, about 4-5 mins.
3) Add eggs, one at a time, scraping between each addition. Then add vanilla.
4) Sift together flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon, and stir into batter.
5) Remove bowl from mixer and fold in 6 oz of the chocolate chips, and nuts, if using.
6) Spread batter evenly into greased 9x13 pan. (I butter the pan, then line it with parchment, then I then butter again.
7) Sprinkle remaining 6 oz. of chips over top.
8) Bake for 30 mins, or until golden on top. Let cool completely before cutting into squares.
Enjoy!

Life Is Good!

This week has been all about baseball, with a game every other night. Tonight, my son's team's 7-game winning streak came to and end. As painful as it was right at the end of the game, the kids bounced right back to their happy-go-lucky selves, chomping on the homemade oreos I made using this recipe for the cookies, and this one for the filling. Their smiles warm me up inside every time. The ability to look toward the light of the morning, the dawn of a new day, is what got this country out of many a dark spell. Hence the shot of the flag. It's an uplifting sight, especially on a beautiful evening, after a game played by healthy, growing boys with devoted fathers and mothers cheering them on. Call it luck, love, design, whatever you will. I call it a beautiful life.

The Queens Zoo

Today was a painfully beautiful day. One of those days you wish for when you book your wedding, or a birthday party outside, or a family reunion picnic. It was perfect. And today was the day we planned our trip with friends to the Queens Zoo. They like zoos just like we do, and wow did we have fun!

We saw alligators basking in the sun . . .



. . . a puma taking a bath . . .



. . . a wise old owl . . .



. . . and this bright parrot.



Then these guys starting charging our toes on the ramp that goes up high over the ground in the aviary. Some of them were jumping off to get to their mother below! It was horrifying and adorable at the same time. They looked like partridges to me, and I know those are hearty fallers. They seemed to drop, get up, shake it off, and then go in search of Mom - who was busy with dozens of other siblings. There were tons!








One even rested our our friend's flip-flop! Those little chicks were about the darn cutest things I'd ever seen.

Here's their Mama.



These pictures of the elk and coyote could have been taken in Yellowstone, as far as I'm concerned.





This guy seemed to have better things to do than be in a petting zoo, but was coping well enough!



A carousel ride topped off our trip.



Then a delicious chicken lunch (sorry partridges!) at Pio Pio on Northern Blvd in Queens rounded out a lovely day. The chicken was roasted to a kind of perfection I'd never experienced before. The cilantro-avocado sauce they served with it had a bite of spice that made anything it touched heaven. Fantastic place. Can't wait to go back. . .