My Baking Cherished Memory
Its Christmastime 1977. I'm in my red plaid jumper, watching The Muppets while playing with my barbies, when my Nana calls into the room that it is time to make the peanut blossoms. Now, I was six years old and peanut blossoms were my most favorite Christmas cookie. The peanut butter deliciousness and Hershey kiss on the top was something I looked forward to all year. This year, however, I was going to get to help make them with Nana, the best cookie baker ever. I remember getting to crack the eggs all by myself, stirring in the peanut butter, peeling the paper off the kisses and getting to wear Nana's about seven apron. Over thirty years later this memory is still a cherished one. Nana passed away seven years ago so these special memories are my only way of getting to visit with her. I remember that special Demember day, the smell of sugar and vanilla, the texture of the apron and the warm smile of my Nana as we tested our baking creations with big glasses of warm milk in front of her comfy fireplace.
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