Baking Cookies

I baked cookies last night. These days, that's a rare thing. It used to be a norm for me. What got into me? No kids here to eat them ... and what with trying not to eat sweets ... It was because I got some new materials.

After hearing about the possibility of whole wheat not being as good a friend to me as I always thought, I decided to branch-out a little. I've been looking for spelt spaghetti because I've eaten it and it was pretty good! So far, none of the stores that I have visited have had it for sale. I'm going to have to drive a little further and shop a little "higher." But I did find some brown rice spaghetti and rice flour at a local Mennonite grocer. I thought I'd blend oat flour and rice flour to make my cookies. My recipe is already a little out-there. I formulated it a few years ago. It makes a pretty tasty cookie with no butter or shortening and no white flour or sugar. I don't tell and even the neighbor kids eat them. That makes me smile. Anyway -- trying new ingredients really requires a return to the laboratory. And tonight, I failed to measure and take notes. Mistake! (And poor scientific method ...)

The first cookie sheet was more of a cookie bar -- but I cut them up and they taste pretty good. They don't look like cookies. The second batch was the closest -- they spread a lot -- were thin, not unlike my Grandma's chewy, gooey chocolate chip cookies, but they were still not quite right. Then I added too much flour, so the last couple dozen were pale, cake-like and dry. I need to split the difference next time.

David had quite a reputation as a cookie connoisseur. In addition to coffee, his affinity for baked sweets was a well-known thing. Sometimes concert hosts would provide gift baskets for him in his hotel room -- Starbucks coffee and chocolate chip cookies. He could be found shamelessly scouring and sampling the goodie table at any given event -- especially BEFORE church fellowship hour. When I met him back in college, he had this red tin that actually said, "David's Cookies" on it. A nearby aunt would lovingly bake-up batches for him and deliver them to school. He loved that! When he graduated, she gave him the tin to keep. I have it in my tin cabinet -- lots of containers for sweet things contained ...

At the other end of his life, in Hospice, his sweet tooth was encouraged and doled-upon. Beloved from our church made certain that he had a continuous stock of cookies. I remember him sitting up, craning his neck to get a good view of the offerings of the day -- pointing up to the mantle above his fireplace, trying to decide which cookie he wanted at that moment. I'd uncover a plate or open a tin and he'd peek in -- maybe take a cookie/maybe gesture toward another one. It was really pretty amusing. He did hone-in on one specific cookie more often than not. I will never forget the evening our congregation held a small, private memorial service for David. Saints freely shared their David stories -- and there were a lot of them! This special cookie baker expressed heartfelt gratitude for his declaration that her cookies were his favorite. And they were. Her cookies were also delivered in an old, battered tin, (one which now gets passed back and forth between that baker and this baker as packages of care for each other). I just looked down at the stool under my desk where I typically stow our tin while I contemplate what to fill it with for its return (I was taught never to return a dish empty, so that's how this all got started) ... but it's not here! She has it! She'll no doubt leave it in my seat at church some Sunday -- blessing me again. Her cookies lightened David's heart and his love for those cookies brightened hers. Sweetness (pun intended).

But back to baking. For me it's both an art and a science. (And I can experience some hubris from time to time -- like when someone tastes my Colonial Brown Bread and an expression of euphoria transforms their face. hee hee.) I love the way the ingredients work together -- the chemical reactions. When should I use baking powder instead of baking soda? Do I need an acidic ingredient to make that work? What, exactly, does a fat do? How much of that do I really need? Stuff like that. Back when my kids were still in Middle School, I used to bake our bread. I mean all of it. I fiddled with a few different recipes until I came up with one that had the ingredients that I wanted, made a soft bread that they would eat (like potato bread) and was sliceable for the sandwiches I put in their lunches every day. After a good bit of experimenting -- and that's what it was -- I finalized my whole wheat potato bread recipe. It took several hours about every ten days or so to make two perfect loaves. Batch after batch -- each loaf was perfect. That was a successful formula -- I mean recipe.

In and about my research on ingredients, I came across writings from other bread bakers. They're a pretty unique subset. Many find the act of kneading the dough to be therapeutic. I don't mean for arthritis! I mean mentally and emotionally healing. A few recipes that I considered in my quest for the perfect sandwich bread had you kneading for ten minutes! That's a long, long time -- I didn't incorporate those in my final result. Anyway, the next time I made my bread, I considered the idea of therapeutic kneading. Nah. For me, it was just function. I only had to knead for, say, 3-5 minutes. I wasn't necessarily impatient with the kneading, but mostly just wanted to finish and get the dough rising -- where the real science is exhibited. (I'm sure I'm a disappointment in the minds and hearts of some purist bread creators.) But I do miss the me who baked bread, so maybe there was something spiritual to it after all.

Who was that person in contrast to who I am now -- a tragically imperfect cookie baker? I certainly am different. Back then, life was pretty content. David was healthy, though travelling. The kids were well-adjusted and happy. I had the time and the mental energy to tend to flowers and a large vegetable garden -- and do a lot of baking. I don't remember being burdened with such an overwhelming stack of paperwork all of the time or being worried about money. Was I just more organized and maintained a productive daily routine? Yes, I think I was. I did have more time because I hadn't returned to work yet. And I didn't squander time like I fear I do now. I've forgiven myself for this, of course, in light of the events of the past few years, but I really think I need to address it. Do I need to focus on swinging my habits, my energies, my personality back to being more on top of stuff? I think I do. Or do I?

Change. Yes, I'm different. But did the core of who Leslie is change? Did I undergo my own chemical reaction? That's the big question, right? Can people change? Do people change? I think yes. But in what ways? I think our hearts soften when our hearts are broken. I also think sometimes are hearts are hardened when our hearts are broken. Softened or hardened (like butter in a recipe ...) does that only slightly alter our core being? or actually change it?

Thinking back to my younger days, I was always very busy doing something. Usually creating something, whether it be music or food or some kind of handcraft. I liked to sew and did quite a bit of that. I quilted. I made baskets. Of course I knitted and did some crocheting. I also had a pretty clean house and kept up with my paperwork. I had lots of friends and spent a lot of time with them, too. I was moving. I didn't do so much resting. I think that's sort of the bottom line for me. I have been resting for so long that I'm out practice with keeping up with life. It's not a easy swing, but I think I am moving in that direction. Now, of course, this writing business keeps me sitting for hours each week that I could be up doing other things. I'm not ready to give this up, though --

I think I'll make sure that I work on this new cookie recipe sooner than later. I need to do a little research on the measuring standards and qualities of different flours and how recipes may need to be tweaked when using them. Perhaps they react to leavening agents differently than gluten flours. Who knows, but the act of looking into it -- and then applying what I discover -- will feel more like me. Sure, it would be nice if my reliable taste-testers were here -- David (a really valuable food critic -- and he liked those whole wheat cookies!) and my kids, of course. But they are not here. My life is different now. Maybe I'll seek-out fresh opinions on some new-fangled experients. Any volunteers?