At long last three of my daughters live close enough to me to participate in a holiday cookie workshop.
Several weeks of detailed planning resulted in our gathering (in aprons, giggles, and festive expectation) at the northern castle. All participants knew their role: who will bring the pecans, who will attend the mixers, and who will roll the cookie dough into suitable shapes and sizes.
The females of the family have always cooked and baked together since they were old enough to stand on a chair, crack an egg, and gleefully dust the kitchen with prodigious puffs of flour. These memories are a warm and happy remembrance from their childhood.
But baking cookies together as adults is a special delight — the joy of interaction with beloveds, the satisfaction of shared sweets, and the making of one more memory for our collective senses.
This year the guys added a new dimension to the event. They peeled and smashed a peck of potatoes for the lefsa, insisted on and executed snack items as well as sugary delights, and made a mountain of awesome krumkake. Fudge? Sure, they did that too, as we females licked the beaters and mixing spoons and gave thanks for such clever, handy spouses.
At the end, there was poppycock, chex mix, dipped pretzel rods. ginger snaps, spritz, thumbprints, special K bars and rocks. We turned into the newest bakery in town and all our jars and tins are full. With the baking evenly divided by families we are well stocked for the season with everyone’s favorite nibble.
Laughter prevailed, good wine did flow. The TV laid forth the game-of-the-day. By mid-afternoon of cookie day we were exhausted and finally flopped into easy chairs to recover from our exertions.
Satiety is good.
Cookie smorgasbord is even better!
PS. Photo courtesy of Betsy Retterer, of cookies from such a day.