Who would have believed it would be cookies?
With many, many unfilled hours stretching before me I decided to bake. I had frozen paletas (Mexican style fresh pops) all summer, but it was cold outdoors with the coming of winter. The oven was the more attractive option.
I had seen lovely cookies somewhere online, skimmed a recipe, and waded in softening the butter and measuring flour. The cookies were simple for a girl who thought the best toy ever was an Easy Bake Oven. But royal icing? I was ignorant that it is tricky, taking knowledge and finesse. This mystical icing is as fragile as fairy dust, and takes the bloom of the peony and the sweetest song of the lark to love it into a workable form.
Upon finishing the cookies, my kitchen featured several hundred drips of royal icing in rainbow colors on the counters, floor, and sink, truly every surface. I am not easily vanquished, even by meringue powder, so I kept at it. But I'll be honest, though I was proud of those cookies, I still didn't see dominion. I'll share more of the story in the next few posts. If you struggle with purpose, I hope you'll find something for your encouragement here.
My First Cookies
She's Come a Long Way, Baby!