It was a great day to bake cookies and concoct other Christmas delights with grandkids. Memories were especially stirred when baking wondrous molasses cookies from back east. Many a Christmas visit to the Berkshires included a trek on Route 7 to the mecca of holiday aromas. What cookie could go wrong with molasses, brown sugar and spices? Along with butter. Lots of butter.
It was a fun day to experiment with this tried and true recipe. First, we baked one batch in a conventional oven and a second in a convection oven. I didn’t know we had two oven options to use. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I assumed convection was a misspelling on the control panel. Never used it. I guess convection is a recent invention; similar to cell devices that also have more than one function I’m told.
Taste testing different baking outcomes was enlightening. Conventional won. Be still my heart but I even took the bold step of baking some dough not yet refrigerated for 24 hours. That did make a more significant difference. Fats need time to cool. Flavors expand to decadency. It’s been a good baking season. A rough calculation is 92,633 calories.
The highlight of the day was learning two important things. First, the word “chork”. Despite my insistence there was no such word, the whipper snappers proved me wrong. A fork/chop stick? Really? But, the word exists. Secondly, my chest nearly exploded with pride when the little rascals tried to bamboozle Papa. They attempted to fabricate a fictional definition of chork. They were teasing Papa. Devious minds sought to trick Papa. I have never been so proud. They are getting it. All of Papa’s silliness and deceitful joking was coming home to roost. Gone are the days of perplexed glances from them as they wonder if Papa is serious or simply crazy. The shoe is on the other foot. In my twilight years I will be no match for their nimble minds. It will be me that will be left dangling in torment when they dash away after a joke too subtle for me to grasp. It is a wonderful life.