Wednesday, April 21, 2010

I'm about to get kicked out of Christmas

Hello. My name is Heather.

I do not like Grandmother Hull's Sour Cream cookies that Matt thinks are the same thing as a Snickerdoodle.

They're not.

And that's probably why I don't like them.

But tonight, during one of our frequent "dinner in the car" nights on the way to baseball, that suddenly didn't matter.

Because Chance likes my Snickerdoodles. A lot.

Take a listen:

Chance (after wolfing down a taco) - I'm ready for some Snickerdoodles! Brad, you gotta try these cookies. They are SO GOOD. They're like the best.

Brad - My mom has her own Snickerdoodle recipe.

Chance - Yeah, but this one has been handed down in my dad's family clear from like his grandmother or something.

Side Note - I'm cracking up at this point - more later

Chance - Here, try it.

Brad - I have taco in my mouth. Hang on. Ohhhhhh. Those ARE good.

A couple minutes pass in blissful, full-mouthed silence.

Chance - Mom, Brad finished his taco, but he's too shy to ask for the Snickerdoodles, but he really likes them, so could you pass some back here, please?

Here's the deal. I made those Snickerdoodles from a cake mix. Not from a recipe handed down several generations. I've tried that. Not from the recipe that came from the flirtatious 50-year old at Matt's old job. I've tried that one too. This one was an easy cake mix, CREAM OF TARTAR, butter, egg thing. It's all I have the time, inclination, or effort to accomplish anymore. I admit, they're better than refrigerated, tastier than mediocre, but not spectacular by any means.

Matt must also admit that fact as well, or he wouldn't have eaten part of Colton's share at last night's baseball dinner. But, I digress.

So, this has been a point of contention for our entire relationship. Even back when I had time for a real recipe and a desire to impress, I remember my cookies being compared to the "Famous Grandmother Hull Snickerdoodles".

In fact, at one point, I did try to make the real things, but figured I must have done something wrong. They just didn't taste right. And, maybe that's not the right wording - they tasted nothing like I expected a Snickerdoodle to taste.

It has been only recently that I realized he wasn't comparing apples to apples.

Fairly recently, he requested them for the Christmas cookie plate at his mom's house. He was thrilled. He LOVED them. "That's what I'm talking about!" he exclaimed. After 13 years of marriage, he is finally again served the cookie he adores so much. I sampled one for myself.

That bland puffy cookie without enough cinnamon in the cinnamon/sugar mixture could be compared to a snickerdoodle, but it would be like cooking up 100 different flavors of cheez-its when he was really thinking of a plain pretzel.

In my opinion (this is my blog, I can do that), the Snickerdoodle should be chewy, tart (cream of tartar tart), and coated so much in the cinnamon mixture that it's crackled after baked.

That's a Snickerdoodle.

I'm sure the Sour Cream cookie has a rightful place in society. Its place just isn't in my kitchen. I'll leave that up to his mom at Christmas-time.

I'll have to, cause like I said, I think I just got kicked out.

I'll be home with Chance, eating cake-mix Snickerdoodles. YUMMY!!

1 comment:

Neighbor Jane Payne said...

You can join us for Christmas.