I admit it. I love cookies. If I don't have any, I buy, beg or bake, usually in that order. My favourite kind are gingersnaps. I love my mother's gingersnaps and one of the things I look forward to at Christmas time is the inevitable plateful that will find its way across my palate. I could seriously down an entire plate of the tastey little critters and not bat an eye. I'm not exactly sure where this weakness for cookies came from. Certainly this weakness isn't hurting my girlish 32-inch waistline. I am the only person I know of that can eat as many cookies as I can and not gain a single ounce of weight. Woman are jealous of this. In fact, I've mentioned this little ability of mine to many women throughout my university and working years. (This likely goes a long way toward explaining why I remain single.) At any rate, I'm working through a plate of peanut butter cookies at the moment. I made them myself. I wish I could say I they were whipped up from scratch, a product of my own creative imagination. But I can't. They're nothing fancy but still, they could just be the ultimate comfort food to while away the dark season.
Relics of Surpassing Interest at Greenwich
3 weeks ago