Showing posts with label Actual Cookies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Actual Cookies. Show all posts

Friday, February 13, 2009

V-Day

Well, Valentine's Day is more of a chocolate holiday than a cookie holiday.

For this reason, CMonster blog is on hiatus this week. This has NOTHING to do with the absence of a post.

xoxo,

Lisa

Friday, December 5, 2008

Darth Tollhouse

In the eighth grade, my English teacher got me really into Star Wars. He was a fan and had used it in class to demonstrate plot lines and character development as we prepared for a module that would require us to pen our own short stories.

Mr. Publicover is a visionary educator, one of those instructors who sets expectations high and earns the respect to demand success of his pupils. I, along with hundreds of other students, idolized him for his expertise, his quick wit, and his ability truly to understand his students and engage them on a deeply personal level. Mr. Publicover lent me his boxed set of the Star Wars trilogy for the weekend and, recognizing my limited attention span, suggested I make some cookies while I watched it to pass the time.

I look back on that rainy weekend amused and nostalgic. I ran between the kitchen and the family room, emotionally engaged in the outlandish escapades of Luke and his comrades, pressing pause to measure out my very first cups of flour and sugar, much to my parents’ raised eyebrows.

Star Wars (the original trilogy, mind you; not the dismaying set of vapid prequel cash-cows that George Lucas turned out in recent years) and cookies are an incredible combination. There is something so wholesome about both. Baking in general makes a person feel very domestic and connected to the apple-pie Americana that embodies our idea of tradition. But a cookie! A cookie is a golden ray of gastronomic sunshine, especially on a cold or sad day, when things could stand to be a bit brighter. And Star Wars, in its simple juxtaposition of good and evil, its sensitive messaging of the interconnectivity of all life, and its profound statement of hope, is a rare moment of cinematic magic. I returned the trilogy to Mr. Publicover the following Monday with a dozen of my first batch of cookies.

Swiftly thereafter, I bought my own three-tape set, and that first weekend repeated itself frequently. With time, it became a social gathering of sorts for my friends from school, and a decade later, this same group that gathered around my cookie sheets are the ones with whom I am in touch, who are my friends, and whom I love. It is hard to say which played the most important role in those weekends, the cookies or the movies, for as much as a cookie is irresistible, Star Wars speaks to multiple generations on what it means to create and to destroy, to love and to hate, and how acts of kindness and bravery make history. Even Mr. Publicover would have trouble teaching eighth-graders lessons like those on his own.

Today, I have my cookie recipe perfected and can recite most of the trilogy’s nine hours from memory. And I invite people over whenever I make cookies because, thanks to Star Wars, cookies are my way to share love and kindness and to build the bonds of my community.

-- Nathan

Monday, November 24, 2008

...That's Good Enough for Me

Yesterday, I spoke with a very depressed friend. He just learned that his favorite cookies, a soft, buttery, jam-filled biscuit has been discontinued because the bakery, Archway foods, had filed for bankruptcy. Facing a serious void in his life, he has begun a quest to find the new, perfect cookie, a process that may take weeks, even months. As a starting place, I recommended the Pepperidge Farm Softbake Snickerdoodle, a staple evening snack in our house.

This discussion, in turn, spawned a longer conversation about the much-loved, googly-eyed, Seasame Street character Cookie Monster. There's a undeniable purity about CM. He has found the secret to life's true happiness and spends his days in a focused, uncluttered pursuit of chocolate chip ambrosia. He's eliminated the things in life that don't bring him joy. There's no drama with Cookie. He knows who he is, he knows what he wants, he goes out and gets it. Cookie's signature song says it all, "C is for Cookie... That's Good Enough for Me."

Although it may sound reductivist to say, there are so many days in which I could be so clear about my purpose, be intently focused on my desires, and live for hedonistic pleasures. This blog is a place and a way to share these thoughts and experiences beneath an umbrella.

A Note on Housekeeping
So friends & readers, you are invited to share your writing here. You need not feel any pressure to write "on topic," just add whatever this Cookie Monster ethos means to you. And yes, you can write about cookies. In fact, one of the rules of Cookie Monster blog is that writers must use sneak the word cookie into their post once. In order to keep the blog going, I think we should aim for one post a week. It's like a subscription. If you get inspired, put something together, and send it to me. I'll post the entries here once per week on Fridays. A whole new twist of TGIF.

If you'd like to write something, comment below/email me and I can give you permission to post your own entry / links / photos. Or, if you don't want to bother with the mechanics, email me your text and I'll post it for you. It's low-maintenance, low-commitment. First time bloggers are welcome!