If cherry pie was the pie of my childhood, then molasses cookies were most definitely the cookie of my childhood. They are another dessert introduced to me by my grandma, her molasses cookies have always been my very favorite cookie.
Every single time I visited my grandparent’s house my grandma had molasses cookies for me (even more often than the cherry pie) because she knew they were my favorite. If they weren’t freshly baked then she would pull some out of the freezer and they tasted just as good. I loved walking into my grandma’s bright, forever-squeaky-clean kitchen with its little vases of violets on the window sill next to the shiny blue glass bird, the brown stool next to the old phone where I would sit and watch people cook, and pulling one of her cookie jars out of the cupboard. And inside the cookie jar: those delicious, crunchy on the edges, soft and chewy in the middle, gingery, molasses cookies. Heaven. I also love that she had cookie jars. My mom never had one, we always kept our cookies in a tupperware type box in the drawer, if they lasted that long–cookies do disappear quickly with four girls in the house. My grandma’s cookie jars weren’t fancy, but I remember them exactly: one squat, perfectly smooth and white with a silver handle; the other a simple tin canister with a black lid. But the contents of those jars were the real treasure–mmm, it couldn’t get any better than my grandma’s cookies. I’m pretty sure my nephew knew where those cookie jars were kept by the time he was two.
I have so many lovely memories of being at my grandparent’s house. They lived about four hours away from us, so we went there pretty frequently. Almost every summer my sisters and I would stay with them for a week without our parents. Their house was always sparkling clean and so very quiet, until we got there anyway. Everything was always exactly the same and very predictable–something that my young, adverse-to-change little self quite appreciated. I can still imagine the smell of their house perfectly (if you can imagine a smell?), although I’m not sure I can describe it very well: old but clean, freshly-baked cookies, and like my grandparents. I loved the room that was my mom’s growing up. It had two twin beds, one on each side of the room, covered in identical pink bedspreads. They reminded me of cake. (And you know I love pink cake.) There was a vanity with a huge round mirror; in front of it there was a piano shaped music box, the ballerina inside had a real tulle skirt and danced to Für Elise.
The closet in that bedroom was full of all kinds of cool old toys that had been my mom’s: old board games like Go to the Head of the Class and Uncle Wiggly, one of the original Barbies with lots of clothes made by my mom and grandma, stuffed animals and a Thumbelina baby doll that could move her head, big baby Mary (a toddler sized plastic baby doll with such a pretty little face and the BEST clothes–she had little dresses with matching diapers and bonnets, all of which were neatly hung in the closet), and best of all, the little Kiddles. And I know this has absolutely nothing to do with food, but my sisters will appreciate this (this is for you, Julia), I photographed the Kiddles the last time I was at home. They are these adorable little dolls that lived in plastic houses and had all kinds of accessories.
That closet always freaked me out a little bit though: you could walk inside it and shut the door–which made it too easy to become accidentally shut inside (or have a big sister shut you inside….). Not to mention the furnace that occupied half of it, which likely scared me because my sisters had taught me that the furnace at home was haunted by a ghost named the Jolly Baker. There were never any ghosts assigned to the slightly scary closet at grandma and grandpa’s house, but I was always sure to leave the door wide open when I went in.
But back to the cookies: I decided to do a dessert post today partly in celebration of my sister’s birthday–Happy 31st Birthday Julia! (She assures me that she still doesn’t feel a bit old); and partly because it’s also my half birthday! I’ve always enjoyed the fact that my oldest sister and I are exactly nine and a half years apart. I like it when things work out so exactly :)
To this day I still can’t make molasses cookies exactly the way my grandma used to. I’ve tried plenty of times, but they always turn out smaller and less sugary. Though I must admit, still very tasty. I do love these cookies and they make me miss my grandma very much. She passed away about a year and a half ago and lately I’ve found myself thinking about her more while I’m working in the kitchen. She was the sweetest and most dear grandma a person could ever have and she did everything with such love. I like to remember her when I’m baking, remember how graciously and lovingly she baked and cooked and raised her children and adored her grandchildren. I’m glad that I can remember her in such a meaningful way by baking her delicious cookies.
Molasses Cookies
3/4 cup shortening
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup mild-flavor molasses or full-flavor molasses
1 egg
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
Granulated sugar
With a wooden spoon, mix shortening, brown sugar, molasses and egg thoroughly in large bowl. Stir in the remaining ingredients except granulated sugar. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours.
Preheat the oven to 374 and grease a cookie sheet. Shape the dough into about 1 1/4-inch balls. Dip the tops in granulated sugar. Place the balls, sugared sides up, about 3 inches apart on the cookie sheet. Sprinkle each with 2 or 3 drops of water. (If you want the tops to be really sugary, sprinkle a tiny bit more sugar on the ball of dough after the water.)
Bake 10 to 12 minutes or just until set but not hard. Remove from the cookie sheet and cool on a wire rack.
Much Ado About Pie 