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The Disastrous
Surprise Cookies: Too Many Cooks Spoil the Broth "Too Many Cooks Spoil the Broth" SUGAR AND SPICE SURPRISE COOKIES 3/4 cups shortening 1 cup brown sugar 1 egg 1/4 cup molasses 2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp. Baking soda 1-1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 tsp. each: ground ginger and nutmeg 1/4 tsp each: black pepper and allspice Granulated sugar In a large bowl cream brown sugar and shortening until fluffy, beat in egg and molasses. In a separate bowl, mix together flour, baking soda and spices. Beat about half of the flour mixture into creamed mixture using medium speed; stir in remaining flour. Shape dough into 1-inch balls; roll in granulated sugar. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheet. Bake in 375 oven for 8 to 10 minutes, or until tops are cracked. Cool on wire rack. Makes 55 cookies. They are supposed to be a mildly spiced, chewy cookie with a crinkly top, and having a surprising "secret" ingredient. (black pepper) Well, as it turned out, these cookies certainly did have a "secret ingredient", which didn't remain a secret too long. In fact, it has been something my husband has never been able to live down, and it has been nearly forty years since it happened. It was the day when: TOO MANY COOKS SPOILED THE "BROTH". It was my husband's birthday. I had a surprise for him, but to put him off, I told him I was going to make his favorite cookies, "Sugar and Spice Surprise". (The real surprise was that his mother was flying in for a visit, and I was waiting for a phone call to go pick her up.) It was to be a surprise for the kids, too. The children were foster children, and had never met their new Grandma. I gathered my materials for the cookies, thinking I could quickly stir them up before I left. But that's where my plan went wrong. I had all the ingredients in, except for the final one--the allspice--when the phone rang. It was Mom. Her plane had arrived early. Not wanting to spoil the secret, I said to my husband, who had just come into the house, "You'll have to finish these cookies up. Everything is in except for the allspice. The kids can help you. I have to go to town." It was after I had left the house that the fun began. My husband called the kids in from their play. "Yvonne," he said, "Mom told me to get you kids to help finish these cookies up and get them into the oven. She said all I had to do was add all spice. Do you know what she meant?" Yvonne looked blank. She called her older sister, "Cecile, Mom said to add all the spices to the cookies. Do you know where the spices are?" "I do. I do." said Donna. Mom keeps them up there in that cupboard. By that time all eight children had come in from play, and had gathered in the kitchen. After learning what was going on, they chimed in. "Can we help? Can we help?" "We have to add all the spices to the cookies and get them into the oven, real fast," Yvonne instructed. "Hurry up. Get down all the spices. Hand them to Dad." "Well, you can all help," said my husband. "Each of you pick one spice and add it to the cookies." The recipe says to add one-quarter teaspoon of all spice. A quarter teaspoon isn't very much," he instructed the little ones, handing them each a spoon. The children stood with a spoon in one hand and a spice bottle in the other, waiting their turn at the cookies. Dougie, the youngest, was first to add his spice. Daddy helped him measure the CAYENNE into the spoon. Dougie carefully dropped it into the flour. Then it was Dean's turn. His spice was GARLIC POWDER. In it went. Then Donna, wanting to pick the prettiest, measured out some CURRY POWDER. David, lagging behind a bit, unsure of himself, picked out TURMERIC to add. Dale came along with his contribution, OREGANO. He took a deep sniff. "Boy that smells great!" he said, dropping his spice into the flour. Now it was Yvonne's turn. She picked CUMIN, again because of its pretty color. Cecile, looking doubtful, was sure that MACE would make a good addition. She carefully measured out her quarter spoonful. She'd helped Mom with the cooking a lot, and had learned the importance of exact measurements. All of a sudden, Dennis, realizing that he was missing out on something, came bounding into the kitchen to find out what was going on. He grabbed his spoon. He picked MUSTARD. Now it was Dad's turn. He was dubious about all the additions, but he knew that PAPRIKA wouldn't hurt, so he put in a generous quarter spoonful of paprika. It added to the pretty mixture already in the flour. My husband stirred up the flour, dumped it into the shortening, sugar and egg mixture, and beat it up. All the kids helped roll the dough into little balls, and with Cecile's instruction, placed them correctly onto the cookie sheet. She placed the sheet into the oven, turned on the heat to 350, remembering that's what Mom did. She turned the timer on to 10 minutes. Mission accomplished. Dad got out 9 glasses and poured out the milk. The kids all sat around waiting for the cookies to come out of the oven. The first batch finished, Dad carefully removed them from the pan, but warned the children they would have to wait fifteen minutes or so before they would be cool enough. As he lifted the cookies from the cookie sheet, he told the children, "When I was a little boy my mom made these cookies for me a lot. They are my favorite cookies. Before I even got into the house I could tell she had made them. I could smell them a block away." My husband confided in me later--much later--that while he was telling the children this, his mind was not registering the same wonderful smell. In fact, in thinking back on the incident, which he never liked to talk about, he wondered at the strange smell permeating the kitchen while the cookies baked. But in the meantime, I came home with my "surprise". The cookies were forgotten temporarily, in the excitement of meeting Grandma. No one thought further of cookies until supper was over. Then I suggested that we sample the family's joint effort of making Grandma's cookie recipe. More milk was poured into fresh glasses, and everyone took a cookie. I will never forget the look on the faces of everyone when they took their first bite of cookie...I think it was my husband who made it to the kitchen sink first, to spit out his cookie and to rinse his mouth out with water to rid himself of the taste of those disastrous cookies, the result of TOO MANY COOKS SPOILING THE "BROTH." Oh those cookies, those terrible, terrible cookies. For years and years they were a lark, Of which my husband would not talk. And Grandma nearly split her sides, Telling folks of how her pride And joy, her only boy, had nearly killed The family by adding spices to the dough. And now, if you would ever go Into his house, you'd see row on row Of books for cooking special things: Things for paupers, or for kings. But always, for the rest of life He'll be reminded by his wife How on that day in 62 He did the best that he could do: TO ADD A LITTLE SPICE TO LIFE.
Helen Dowd submitted this delightful story and recipe for us. Visit her site for some great reading at Occupy Till I Come.  Printer
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