Last December I finally tried my hand at one of the most coveted recipes within the pages of my Great-Grandmother Miriam’s recipe book: her soft ginger cookies. She made them every Christmas when I was a child; we looked forward to them so much that she even wrote, “the kids like these” in the recipe (the entire thing is handwritten, another aspect of the treasure).
Blessed with a quiet afternoon to myself, the baby napping and the other children at school, I set about mixing up the dough in my trusty KitchenAid mixer, which was a wedding gift from Grandma Ruth. As I got out my rolling pin and cookie cutters, it suddenly dawned on me that my cookie baking was accompanied by not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR of my grandmothers. Continue reading