I'm Just Sayin'

In the summer of 2000, I spent several weeks with my mother. She was dying of a brain tumor, and my siblings and I had committed to keeping her in her home for as long as possible. She slept a lot, so I had lots of down time. I went through her recipes, and copied several.

Some are just recipes: jalapeno corn bread, apple crisp, barbecued beef roast. But other recipes represent much more than the foods they create. They represent memories – memories of family, memories of places and events and feelings. There’s my Aunt Annie’s Lemon Sponge Cake (all the rage in the summer of ’69, when man walked on the moon) and Aunt Marie’s Oatmeal Cake (unfortunately I don’t clearly remember Marie, but I’ll never forget her cake). And then there is the recipe for McKinney’s Café Oatmeal Cookies.

If you grew up in Jefferson City, Missouri in my era, you know about McKinney’s Café. It was downtown, on High Street, where everyone shopped before the mall was built in the late 70’s. It was a typical blue-plate diner, with good, Midwestern meat-potatoes-and-a-vegetable meals. McKinney’s had great homemade vegetable soup. And they had these oatmeal cookies! Big as a saucer, loaded with raisins, crispy on the edges, chewy in the middle, to-die-for oatmeal cookies!

Members of my family are probably surprised to learn that oatmeal cookies are my favorite. There’s some family lore about my capacity for chocolate chip cookies, especially those baked ahead for Christmas and stored in the freezer. To be clear, I have no memory of stealing cookies from the freezer, chocolate chip or otherwise. I do love a good chocolate chip cookie, and my sister Gerry makes the best. But oatmeal cookies are my bff (best food forever).

So finding this recipe was a windfall. You see, these cookies aren’t just cookies. They take me back to a simpler time when all I had to worry about was whether Mom would let me go ice skating on Friday or if Santa would bring me the Pat-a-Burp doll I so desperately wanted. In those days, Mom would occasionally pack us into a taxi (she never learned to drive) and off we would go on what could only be described as a shopping adventure. Up and down High Street, collecting new clothes (but never the ones we wanted – Mom would only spring for what was on sale, was sturdy, practical, washable, and could be “let out” as we grew), new shoes (again: practical, sturdy, and usually not very stylish), and school supplies (never the Donny Osmond notebook). If we behaved throughout the ordeal/adventure, we would stop at McKinney’s at the end. We’d pile into a booth, and mom would order a cup of coffee and a cookie for us girls to share. If she was feeling particularly flush, and we had behaved exceptionally well (not begging too much for the Donny Osmond notebook or the coat with pink fur trim) she might let us each have our own cookie. In which case, we’d have to ask for a little wax-paper bag to take half of it home, because they were so big we couldn’t finish them. Mom would drink her coffee, smoke a cigarette, and ask the waitress to phone a taxi for us.

I think about those times whenever I bake these cookies. Come to find out, they evoke memories for others in my family. The first time I made them, I sent some to my brother Steve in Alabama. He told me about high school dates at McKinney’s. Reminiscing about these cookies prompted my brother Eddie to recall how one of his first jobs was for McKinney’s, delivering lunches to offices and other businesses downtown. On one such delivery, to a beauty shop, he met the woman he’s been married to for 50 years. I never knew that, but I love the image that it invokes!

And the image of those afternoons at McKinney’s! The feeling of being completely and totally satiated by new clothes, new shoes, and an oatmeal cookie, or at least part of an oatmeal cookie. Feeling sophisticated and grown-up, sitting in a booth surrounded by packages while my mother smoked and drank coffee, waiting for a cab to take us home. Never in my adult life have I known a similar feeling of complete comfort and satisfaction. But finding this recipe, baking these cookies, and sharing them with family and friends, that comes close.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that I can’t possibly bake cookies for everyone I love. But I can pass along a beloved recipe. So, if anyone cares to bake a batch, share them with someone you love. You might be creating some really good memories. I’m just sayin’ …


McKinney’s Café Oatmeal Cookies

(The original recipe called for lard, and made zillions. I’ve cut it down to manageable size, and substituted Crisco. I slice them about ¼ inch thick, which makes about 3 dozen 2 ½ inch cookies.)

1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1 ½ cups flour
3 cups rolled oats
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 ½ teaspoons salt

Combine dry ingredients and then mix in:

1 cup Crisco

Mix well and add:

1 ½ cups raisins soaked a few minutes in hot water
½ cup chopped pecans
2 eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla

Shape mixture into two rolls about 1 ½ inches in diameter. Wrap and store in refrigerator overnight. Slice as desired (the thicker the slice, the larger the cookie. Bake at 350 degrees until edges are lightly browned and center is barely set. Cool one minute on cookie sheet, then remove to wire rack. Mixture will keep in refrigerator.

I thought I was in tune with my culture. After all, I have more than one e-mail account. I'm on Facebook. I have a blog, for Pete's sake. But my recent post about Peeps taught me otherwise. After I ranted about my discovery of "Holiday" Peeps, a friend pointed out that there were orange pumpkin Peeps at Halloween this year. Whaaaaa???

There I was, finishing up an afternoon of errands at my neighborhood CVS. Feeling good because I had gotten so much done. Looking forward to getting home, putting on some sweats, turning on the tree, lighting a candle, and listening to some Christmas music really loud. I was feeling positively festive as I worked my way down the candy aisle, looking for a treat or two that I could add to a gift basket. That's when I saw them, next to the Russell Stover hollow chocolate Santas. (btw, hollow Santas? We'll cover that another time). They were just below the Snickers Nutcrackers, to the left of Dove dark chocolate mint nuggets, and above the plastic candy canes filled with fake M&M's ...

Well, I finally decided to dip my toes into the blogging pool. I am not sure where I will go with this, but today, on my 51st birthday, it's time to get my feet wet. Maybe this will be a place to record the events that shape my life, and reflect on things that make me smile, laugh, frown, cry, scream, curse, giggle and think. Maybe this will be a place to collect the flotsam and jetsam of a digital existence ... all the YouTube clips I want to keep for future reference, the jokes I can never remember, the links I want to preserve. Maybe my blog will be where I rant and get things off my chest... examine what's bothering me ...explore what's keeping me up at night or showing up in my dreams ... kind of digital therapy.