[Wo]man on a Mission

When I was little, my grandmother’s house always had cookies. Sugar cookies. Smashed with a fork before they were baked. In an old glass jar whose lid was never screwed on correctly on the first try. Crumbly sugar cookie perfection. She didn’t bake them, but they were there. Homemade. For years.

I tried to bake them myself a time or two, but they were never right. I haven’t tried in years. Partially because “I can’t” do it, partially because in the time I haven’t had one, the mystique in my head has grown. I have this cookie I distinctly remember, but will it be the same twenty years later? Will I ever really know I got it right since it’s been so long? Would I even know it was wrong? No one else would.

Methodist Cookbook

Now I’m on a mission. I’ll make them. They’ll be just right when I do.

 

2 Comments

  1. Listen. Let me tell you. This makes me think that (sadly) white trash is just uber ingrained in my genes. My entire family is from a tiny tiny town in Arkansas. Most of them alllll on their own hill. My Granny, the one who would be perched on top of said family hill like a little vulture, made the BEST vegetable soup ever in the entire world. Everyone. Try as they might! Could not replicate the taste. Everyone Asked for this soup all the time. This soup would be frozen in large quantities for when you needed a fix throughout the cold months. When Granny passed away I was DETERMINED to make it her way. I remembered that she had sent me snail mail in college with the recipe – I whipped that sucker out And off to the grocery store I went! I made my own sauce, I used fresh peas, corn, and chose the best beef. I was Ready! It totally flopped. Didn't taste a thing like Grannys. I mean. It was Soup. But not HER soup. Next round I followed her recipe EXACTLY. Came out perfect. You know what the trick was? I was horrified yet amused. My little ol' Granny Always shopped at the Dollar General and that is where she got the canned tomato sauce and the canned vegetable. Something in that Cheap juice is the secret. She would then just wobble on over to CVS and apparently get the cheapest beef there. I know. I know. It's bad. At least the okra and potatoes were fresh! I just was a hootin' over that. Of course only My Granny would be the one to perfect the Dollar Stores food stuffs.

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