Grandma Cookies

Even though "Baking things, i.e. cookies" was near the top of my list of "Things to do when school is done," I'm really not much of a baker. Most people I know say they prefer to bake than cook, but, unless I'm in a crowded kitchen of sisters and moms and grandmas (and nephews, as Cole is a pretty awesome sous-chef), I get tired of baking. I get annoyed by having to interrupt whatever I'm doing every 12-15 minutes to take cookies out of the oven and put in a new batch, etc. It's not just that, since Jason is not a dessert lover, I end up personally eating at least 70% or whatever I bake (though that's a large part of it). It's just that I think baking--especially cookie making--is a social activity, and I get a bit lonely when I do it by myself for too long. I miss my mom's big counter and huge yellow canister of flour spilling out while we haggle over washing the mixer bowl, with too-loud Christmas music in the background and Grams sitting in one of the counter seats, tempting us with Rice Krispie Treats or Muddy Buddies and slicing anything that needs cut and laughing at my lame jokes.

That last bit motivated my pre-Christmas cookie extravaganza this week. Another thing I've learned about myself as a baker is that, while I love to try new cooking recipes, I like to bake the same things over and over--my recipe box (circa 1987) has three very used dessert recipes at the front (Grams' peach cobbler, Grandma's rhubarb crunch, and Mom's brownies, mmm), and then a bunch of totally clean recipes I've never tried.

My cookie recipe collection is similarly organized--Grandma Bunn's sugar and spice molasses cookies and Mom's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (best. ever.) constantly stay at the front of the stack. But for the past few years I've missed the carrot cookies Grandma Johnson made every Christmas. I guess carrot cookies make about as much sense as carrot cake, but I distinctly remember trying them for the first time one Christmas when Grams and Gramps lived in central Washington being amazed at how tasty they were--all orange scented and cakey and so light you could put down a whole stack before noticing.

All this to say, I've decided to make a holiday tradition of baking my favorite cookie recipes from my grandmas (acknowledging that Rice Krispie treats don't count as cookies and to this day eating them makes me miss my Grams each time). So by the time Jason got home on Tuesday I had dozens of carrot and sugar and spice cookies littering the counter...and he, who only likes plain chocolate chip cookies (which I had made on Sunday), hasn't eaten a single one. Of course, these cookies were for me, a way for me to remember grandmothers who loved Christmas so much and for whom I ache a bit when this time of year comes around. Oh!

I don't really remember Grandma Bunn making the molasses cookies as much as I remember my mom making them, but when I tasted the first carrot cookie to see if it turned out, I found that I had to swallow it around the lump in my throat that it evoked. It was to cookies what Grandma Bunn's piano music is to carols--perfect and just a little bittersweet.

I'll pass on the recipes as my Christmas gift to you.

Grandma Bunn's Sugar and Spice (Molasses) Cookies: These are like gingerbread, but soft and thick instead of crunchy and crumbling. I'll let you guess how I prefer my gingerbread.

(Warning--this recipe makes about a million cookies (by which I mean 5-6 dozen). Expect a v. full KitchenAid bowl.)

Mix together:
1 c. soft shortening
2 c. sugar
2 eggs
1/2 c. molasses

Sift and stir in:
4 c. flour
4 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1/2 t. ginger
2 t. cloves
2 t. cinnamon

Roll into balls the size of walnuts and bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes.

Grams' Carrot Cookies
3/4 c shortening
1 c sugar
1 egg
1 c mashed cooked carrots (canned carrots work fine)
2 c sifted flour
2 t baking powder
1 grated orange rind
1/2 t lemon extract
1/2 t vanilla
1/4 c nuts (optional)

1. Cream shortening and sugar add egg and beat.
2. Add rest of ingredients and mix.
3. Bake 12 minutes in 400 degree oven.

Frost with a powdered sugar frosting using lemon or orange extract (I like orange). 1 c powdered sugar, 3 T milk (1% gives a nice thin glaze, but use cream if you want it thicker), and 1/2 t orange extract.