Cooking with Grampa

Cooking with Grampa

“Stop!” yelled Sandy rushing back.

“What?” said Ruth, mid pour.

“You can’t put the cinnamon in until the batter is mixed or it gets stuck.”

“Stuck cinnamon? Where?”

“Well clumpy actually, you get big spots with too much and little ones with not enough!”

“How do you know this?”

“Gramps told me when he taught me how to make this stuff.”

“Oh…” Ruth said, smiling a bit.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He made it up!”

“What?”

“He used to do that to me too, if he didn’t want you touching some ingredients, he made rules that they had to go in first.”

“What are good ingredients?”

“Things we were likely to want to taste. In my case it was chocolate chips, or even sugar.”

“Cinnamon?”

“Not for me, but yes for you, I know you occasionally sick a finger in the cinnamon, you know you do. But if it’s under the rest of the batter mix, you can’t very well sneak a taste, like I just saw you do…”

“I love cinnamon…”

“Well, if we put it in later it mixes better and then all the cookies taste like cinnamon.”

“So, Grampa was pretty sneaky then?”

“Only about his cooking, he loved to cook.”

“I miss him so much…”

“Here, dunk this orange slice in the cinnamon, and I’ll grab a handful of chocolate chips.”

“Why?”

“For Grampa! It will make him laugh out loud in his grave!”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Yes Sweety, he won’t laugh, but maybe he will remember how much we love him.”

Ruth dunked in the cinnamon, Sandy grabbed some dark chocolate, “Here’s to you Gramps! We miss you!”

Unbeknown to them, Grampa rolled over in his grave he was laughing so hard!