So, do you have someone who loves to bake sweets in your family/friends?
Well, here at Grouse Park, it’s complicated…
As many of you know, I am one half of what is known as a “mixed marriage”.
I was born and raised in Minnesota, albeit by a family of Bohemian immigrants, so for shorthand, let’s call me “normal”.
Christmas cookies? Hell yes, pass the peanut butter kiss cookies, the dipped pretzels, etc, etc. But I don’t get very damn many. Which brings me to…
And now to Mrs. Grouse. Mrs. Grouse, on the other hand, was NOT born in this country, she was born in England. So while I happily throw myself on top of any and every pile of Christmas cookies that comes my way, she stares at me over her teacup and makes tutting noises. “When will you colonials learn?”
Mrs. Grouse makes “proper” Christmas treats, which means that we have had a traditional Christmas cake (brown spiced fruitcake made with actual candied peels imported at ruinous cost) that Mrs. Grouse baked and it has been sitting in the pantry since October. This cake has to be “fed” once per week. “Fed” is the wrong word, actually it has to be liquored up with perfectly good bourbon once per week. So this Christmas cake that I, in fact, don’t eat, has been drinking my perfectly good bourbon since October.
We also have “puddings”, shortbreads, and basically, everything BUT perfectly good cookies with Hershey’s candy melted in the middle.
Some of this English stuff is pretty good. A good Christmas pudding with rum and custard and cream has actually grown on me.
But sometimes I just want a blasted Hershey’s kiss cookie…
Grouse