I was delighted when Erik showed up early to start off the Marathon Cookie Bake. Mom had been prepping for a couple of days: cans of fruit filling, bags and bags of powdered sugar, brown sugar, an assortment of nuts (besides my family), flour, cans of milk, chocolate chips, and the like took up all the space on the counter top.
Every cookie pan of every size had been taken out of the cabinet and cleaned. Mom also cleaned out the fridge, gutting it of perfectly good (read: old, moldy, “science experiment” leftovers) that I probably would have eaten had she not had Jamie take the bags out to the garbage cans immediately. Mom said she needed the space to chill dough and candy. Candy???!!!
I peeked in the fridge and the only things left in it were: milk, eggs, and more butter than I’ve ever seen anywhere. Low-fat cookies? Not on your life!
Erik arrived at 9:30 and they immediately went to work making Grandma’s Ice Cream Kolacky. They made two full batches. They moved immediately to Mexican Wedding Cakes, shortbread, spritz cookies, gingerbread, Pecan Tassies, chocolate chips (with and without nuts) and finally, the candy: fudge and peanut butter balls. Patiently, I waited to be the Official Tester, but had to satisfy myself with the crumbs and powdered sugar that ended up on the floor. Foiled again!
Jamie ended up being the Official Taster because so much chocolate was involved. He says the cookies passed muster and washed them down with a little milk:
But the real treat was Dad, who came home from work and said, “COOKIES MINE!!!”
I did get a couple of Marrow Bone treats for being a good dog. We had a great time visiting, dancing, listening to music, and baking. I love when the humans dance, because I get up on my hind legs and dance along. Mom was laughing so hard she didn’t get a picture. Overall, it was a great cookie bake!
At the end of the marathon, Mom said she was sore and felt old and couldn’t stand up straight. She said she thought she’d absorbed sugar and butter through her skin and felt like she’d OD’d on sweet stuff. She said, “No more cookies!”
It’s going to take her a couple of days to eat some, I think. Meanwhile, I keep looking slyly at the containers, willing them to fall off the table. Then I’ll be able to say, “cookies MINE!” Woof!