Thursday, June 18, 2009

Barbara's Oatmeal Cookies




I would be a slacker and a dork if I didn't at one point include these wonderful little nibbles into the mix here on the blog. Nothing brings me closer to my grandma Barbara than slipping on the only article of clothing that I have from her, a purple gingham apron. Yesterday I caught myself taking her oatmeal cookie recipe out of it's carefully guarded box. I have little boys. I guard stuff. Seeing her handwriting transports me back in time, if only for a moment. There I was in her warm kitchen. She sifted stuff. I was known back then as Stephy-Jean. Oh dear...that may be as hillbilly a name as ever there was one. When it all comes down to it, some of my most cherished childhood and teenage memories are forever enshrined in that tiny little kitchen of hers. It wasn't ever "un-cool" for me to hang out with her. Though I know for certain she loved all her children and grandchildren...I'm pretty sure we all felt like we where her "one" favorite. So yesterday...I baked some cookies with grandma. I miss her. Heaven must be the most amazing place with her there. If you don't miss your grandma yet, consider yourself blessed beyond measure. Call her maybe. I bet she would love to hear from you. Go by and make some cookies.
If she's gone...perhaps you could make some memories with your own little ones. I'm sure they would love it.
Grandma Barbara's Oatmeal Cookies
1 1/4 cup butter
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cup flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
3 cups rolled oats
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cream butter and sugar until combined. Add eggs and vanilla. In separate bowl combine dry ingredients. Mix the dry ingredients with the wet, just until combined. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 375 degrees for 10-11 minutes.
There you go. Love you Grandma.

1 comment:

clan of the cave hair said...

daaaaaammmmit. I've been avoiding making a pie for 2 weeks. Now i'm almost in tears remembering my grandmother teaching me how to make piecrust and I feel the urge to run to the kitchen and get out the flour and the crisco. (because lets face it, full on butter never made as tender a crust as crisco did).