In celebrating my first Christmas in retirement, I am sharing past columns I’ve written about Christmas. I call them the 12 columns of Christmas. The following was written for Dec. 13, 2015.
There are so many images that remind me of the Christmas season, beginning with the manger scene. Christmas trees, stars, snowflakes, reindeer and Santas are others. Many of them show up not only in our decorations but also as the shapes of our Christmas cookies.
When I think about Christmas cookies, the picture in my mind is of a little boy watching as his grandmother mixes, rolls and cuts dough on an old Hoosier cabinet in her kitchen. It could be an image from Norman Rockwell or Thomas Kinkade, but it isn’t. It’s my real memory of my grandmother and me from 60 years ago.
That Hoosier now sits in my house. Even though there no longer is cookie dough rolled on the metal surface, it’s a reminder of that scene from six decades ago. There’s something special about grandmothers baking cookies with their grandchildren. Even though it was a lot of work, it also was a lot of fun. No part of it was more important than the bonding time.
My grandmother’s sugar cookies are legendary in our family. She never used a recipe, perhaps because she had made them so many times, but every time they were perfect. Before she died at 92, she took the time to teach my mother how to make them. We call them grandma cookies and my mother, who is 85, still makes them for us. They are very good, but there was something special about my grandmother’s cookies that can’t be copied.
She always stored them in large glass jars that were kept on a shelf along the narrow steps into the cellar. It was a favorite place for us to sneak away to, though I’m sure she knew where we were and why.
My sister’s youngest daughter, who lives in Seattle, learned to make those cookies from my mother. I’m not sure how good they are, but she always could send a package for me to judge.
It wasn’t just those sugar cookies that were special. My grandmother also made old-fashioned chocolate chip, molasses and peanut-butter cookies.
When she was finished, my sister and I, and later our baby brother, had the treat of licking the bowl and the beaters. Back then we never worried about raw cookie dough.
Many years later, when our children were young, my wife and I started a marathon cookie baking tradition. It would take an entire day and fill the kitchen and dining room. We would make multiple batches of five or six types of cookies, finishing late at night.
Usually I would do the mixing and she would do the baking. We would pack them into containers and packages for Christmas gifts. It was a special family time and a great memory for all of us.
Ironically, we never made my grandmother’s sugar cookies. Perhaps it was because I knew I could never come close to matching what she did. Instead, we used recipes from both of our families for chocolate chip, marble, chocolate drop and snickerdoodles. They were the standards, but sometimes we would add another recipe for a year or two.
One caution: If you ever do one of those marathon cookie-baking days and there are children around, figure at least a 10 percent loss for sampling.
Many people have family baking traditions. Before my wife and I were married, we made cinnamon rolls from scratch in her mother’s kitchen. During our marathon cookie baking years later, sometimes we would make pumpkin rolls, which were big hits at holiday gatherings. So often the importance of that baking went beyond the finished products, because it was time we shared.
I was reminded about cookie baking a few weeks ago when a box arrived from my sister. In it were copies of a cookbook she created with recipes she had collected from my grandmother and other members of our family. On the cover is a photo that was published in the local newspaper of my grandmother holding one of her crumb pies. Inside is her sugar cookie recipe.
I may never take the time to make most of the recipes in that book, but they are good reminders of family meals and other special times.
Many of us get so wrapped up in the preparation for the holidays that we fail to focus on the people around us and our time together. For me, those days of watching my grandmother work in her kitchen and the marathon cookie baking with my wife are things of the past. They remain, however, among my most cherished memories. Much sweeter than the cookies themselves.
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