Over the years, I learned to bake with my mother. She was an exceptional baker. Me, I rarely get any complaints, but she was better. As time passed, she baked less and I baked more...a natural road to follow. These days she only bakes one batch of cookies, a fat-free variety for my dad and brother. This year I'm sure it will be a much harder task knowing it will only be my brother eating them.
And so it begins. I look at the calender to see when in the month we will be at the weekend house where the baking assembly line area is so much more user-friendly. Check the supplies to see what needs to be purchased, gather the recipes of the old favorites and look for some new cookie to throw in this year.
That's where I'm at. Last year the cookie marathon ran one day, 9 1/2 hours. Brutal. This year it's going to be broken up over a couple of weekends. All in all, it will be a big mess with vast quantities of alcohol needed for inspiration. In the end, it's all worth it. Everyone gets their own tin, we feast for a few days and enjoy the sugar high for as long as we can.
Another year and another tasty memory.
And a boatload of calories.
Works for me.
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