Lemon Cookie Anyone?
My Lemon cookie recipe has quickly stolen the mouth of many an innocent victim.
Without Lemon cookies at this grandma’s house for Christmas dinner, the whole entire dinner can just be called off.
Every Christmas when all those 13 grandchildren pile through the door, their coats go one way and their shoes go another, and I hear them say, “Hey grandma, are they ready”?
Their noses lead them in the right direction as they come through the kitchen door one by one. Each smile warms my eyes, and their hugs are like joy to my soul. I can’t wait to see them; it is a homecoming that is etched into my memory. There’s Jonathan, Tinisha, Jordan, Robert, Ben, Ashley, Craig, Megan, Morgan, Sarah, Rebekah, Austin, and last and also least, My little Samuel George.
On Christmas Eve 2006, I ask my granddaughter Tinisha, to finish up my grocery shopping for me while I told every one at work to have a very Merry Christmas.
All I liked was the little tiny marshmallows for the sweet potatoes and five pounds of self rising flour for my famous lemon cookies.
I popped out of bed at 6 am on Christmas morning knowing that my favorite day has finally arrived. It is the only day of the year that I can cook at my hearts content. Cooking is one my favorite things to do in the whole world.
I quickly threw that 20 pound turkey in the oven and then started rounding down all my stuff for my Christmas lemon cookies. I got out the flour, the eggs, the lemon flavor, the sugar, the vanilla flavor, the milk, the butter, the powdered sugar and the last ingredient was the cream of tarter. I got my mixing bowl out and started cupping in the flour. I noticed that the bag was a different color, I looked down and the bag said, “Unbleached all purpose flour”.
Quick frozen panic set in, my thoughts dangled on the sight of a nice fluffy dough being played in by the star of the Christmas cutters, Mr. Snow Man. What was I going to do? I had no baking powder; I had not used this kind of flour in my cookies for years.
I started talking to myself since no one was listening to me except God. I said, “Now Lord, you know there are no grocery stores open on Christmas, not even good old Wal-Mart. Now you tell me what is Christmas without lemon cookies? You know now Lord that I am the grandmother! Help me, Lord, please help me’!
A soft voice of persuasion said, “Go to the refrigerator, open the door and look in”.
Of course I did, the only thing I saw was the normal things, you know, the ones that every refrigerator holds, but setting beside the milk was six cans of Pillsbury biscuits.
I said, “Now Lord, will it work”? I could almost hear him say, “Please daughter, trust me.”
I grabbed those six cans of biscuits out of that refrigerator and tore them open in a hurry thinking, “someone will get out of bed and think I’m nuts.” I plucked and kneaded until they became a whole. I thought “this looks just like pizza dough.” I heard someone chuckle and it was me.
I grabbed each ingredient one by one and started dashing them in that biscuit dough, never knowing how much of what? A dash here and a dash there, until that dough became perfect. Mr. Snowman cookie cutter was pulled from the drawer along with the bright and shining star of Bethlehem, and that little gingerbread boy came along just for the ride.
Christmas without lemon cookies, no way! It can never happen at grandma’s house.
This Christmas 2006 was no exception; those beautiful fat fluffy cookies were in the middle of the table along with the pretty Santa candle, who was slowly losing out to the strike of a match. His little body was turning side ways, seems I could here him say, “I’m melting, I’m melting.” Little smoke ringlets floated through the air, as we watched the last ember of light dance among the leaves of my pot of Christmas Poinsettias.
As that little Santa candle faded into oblivion, the voices of delight floated through the sound waves of Christmas 2006. “ Mam Maw these are the best lemon cookies you have ever made”.
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