What cookie takes you on a trip back to childhood?
What cookie whisks you back to flour coated faces, sticky fingers, and snatching barely cooled straight-out-of-the-oven-still-too-hot-to-eat cookies?
One bite of an Oatmeal Scotchie sends me straight back to my Granny’s kitchen. Straight back to fighting with my brothers over pouring, stirring, mixing, spoon licking, and being Granny’s favorite. Straight back to the sound of my parents contented laughter floating in from the family room, the smell of Granddaddy’s favorite burnt toast and buttermilk breakfast, the sound of the cuckoo clock whirring and clicking, and the feeling of home.
What you have to understand here, is that I’m not looking for the perfect oatmeal cookie. I don’t want fluffy, beautiful perfection. I don’t care about golden, fluffy, pretty, chewy, oatmeal cookie perfection.
I want the cookie of my childhood; the cookie of perfect afternoons, of hazy golden memories. The cookie that the 5 year old, 12 year old, 16 year old, 25 year old, 36 year old me remembers, craves, and knows. The cookie that is perfection because of it’s imperfection. It is deliciousness personified with it’s crisp caramelized edges, the chewy exterior, the soft butterscotch filled, vanilla tinted, brown sugar infused cookie of years past.