Friday, December 30, 2011
She does this every year. Our grandmother made these at Christmas. It takes marshmallows, almond bark in peanut butter and chocolate flavors, and peanuts. I think there is a version with chow mein noodles in it. Gram would show up with huge tins of these. Sometimes, it was all we ate the day after Christmas.
When Gram died, Sharyn took it upon herself to learn to make these. It's her way of preserving a family tradition. They are so sweet, you can't sit down and eat the whole bag. Well, possibly someone could, but I can't. It takes at least 3 sittings to polish off this amount.
I can't make them. I tried once and the technique is just beyond me. I opened up the box last night and memories of Christmas past floated by with the scent of cookies. Gram never had a Christmas tree. She did have, instead, a little ceramic lighted tree that sat on her fireplace mantel. I remember fires in the fireplace at Christmas but, eventually, she closed that off as it was drafty. All the presents sat on the hearth under this little green tree. She was something of a neatnik so the mess of wrapping paper and tags and ribbons and bows would irritate her. We had to put the wrapping immediately into a waste bag. I'm still not sure how "Santa" managed to place his gifts on the hearth when there were kids sleeping on cots in the living room, but he found a way.
Some things just mean Christmas. I think Sharyn made these the one year we celebrated my mother's 70th birthday. It was around Easter and we were all getting together for it. It was nice, but these are Christmas cookies and are, at least for me, forever associated with Christmas. Thanks sis.
Beverage: Black Raspberry tea