Just wanted to start off this blog post correctly. That is Krista, my 4-month-old precious. She is growing so rapidly, and she has started on the biggest and perhaps most pleasurable journey of her life: eating food. A few weeks ago, she started with the obligatory rice cereal...and promptly spit it out. Then came the oatmeal. Not that you don't have a good reason to watch a video of an adorable baby eating cereal, but just so you know, at the end she gives one of the best soliloquies ever captured on video.
Well said, my love! Without realizing it, she gave me inspiration for my next cooking adventure with Elli, one that also would include a little history/lineage lesson. My maternal grandpa I will forever remember for three primary things: 1) the ornery laugh befitting of the ornery stick of a man he was, 2) Old Spice and 3) his oatmeal raisin cookies.
I called my mom to ask her for his recipe. "I don't know," she replied, "check the oatmeal box."
Classic.
I just so happened to have a Quaker Oatmeal box, and, sure enough, the recipe was under the lid.
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
3 cups oats, uncooked
1 cup raisins
Beat together butter and sugars until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well. Combine flour, baking soda, cinnamon; mix well. Add to sugar mixture and mix well. Stir in oats and raisins; mix well. Drop by tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 10-12 minutes at 350 or until golden brown.
As soon as Elli heard the word "cookie" tumble off my lips, she was asking to eat the dough. She is, as they say, her mother's daughter. (It really is no wonder I have not lost all of the baby weight.)
Because Elli is a smartie -- "gifted" if you ask certain family members -- she is on the verge of reading. So, I gave her the lid and the responsibility to captain us through how much we would need of each ingredient.
Precise as a surgeon.
"Can I eat this now, Mommy?"
"Not sure you're going to like it," I said, but I might as well have said, "Put your whole hand in it," because that's exactly how she responded.
"It's good, Mommy."
"OK, Elli. If you say so. How about we add some more ingredients?"
"Yes!"
She wiped her hand on her shorts, as any mature baker would, and helped me crack the eggs into the bowl. I wish I could say that went smoothly.
"Can I eat this now, Mommy?"
"No, honey, it has raw egg in it. Let's mix the dry ingredients."
"Yes!"
She read off how much of the flour, baking soda, etc., we needed and dumped the measurements I gave her into the bowl. Without me having to say a word, she picked up the spoon and went at it.
Steadily we added the dry mixture into the butter-sugar mixture as the paddle spun. Elli watched as the last of the white disappeared into the brown.
"Can I eat this now, Mommy?"
"Time to add the raisins and oats," I diverted.
"Yes!"
After she read to me how much raisins we needed, I gave her the measuring cup and a box of raisins. She did the rest.
The oats went almost as well as the eggs. Let's just say I'm glad we invested in a good broom.
Elli stood at the ready with her scrapper as the mixer paddle came to a stop, a huge ball of dough adhered to it. When she was done prying off the ball, her hand started inching toward the bowl. Suddenly she remembered I was standing there.
"Can I eat this now, Mommy?"
I can't say I didn't finally relent and let her have a taste, or that I didn't try some myself. Honestly, I think it is only responsible baking to test the dough before you commit it to the oven. Like tasting the sauce before adding the pasta. Can I get an amen? Do you eat the dough of cookies you're making? Let me know. Those who agree, you just may find yourself the proud recipient of an Oatmeal-Raisin Cookie!
Overall Oatmeal-Raisin Cookie Ratings (5 being the best):
Elli-friendly cooking: 5
Elli-friendly eating: 5 (was there any doubt?)
Simple: 5
Fast: 5
Frugal: 5
