File this one under I should have known better…

The mother in law (God rest her soul) was not known for her adventurous tastes when it came to food, or for having any taste at all for that matter. In fact, she once said that anything that had more fiber in it than ground beef messed up her stomach (um, what?).

Apparently though, in all of her beef-loving glory, she made a mean batch of oatmeal cookies (back from when her stomach could handle it). One of those nostalgia-inducing recipes…you know what I’m talking about. When someone reminds you of something that inspires a flood of memories, and you stare vacantly off into space, a slight smile on your face? Yeah, that kind of nostalgia. Apparently, when my husband was a kid, he and his mother would make them by the dozen, and give them away around the holidays. Rumor had it that everyone would clamor for them each year, asking when they’d get their batch. Like most rumors…it was probably just that. #fakenews.

But anyway, I digress. Before my husband was my husband, when I was still trying to woo him with all things womanly, I set out to bake him these (in)famous oatmeal cookies. If the future mother in law could do it, I certainly could, couldn’t I?

So one day I give her a call, and butter her up (no pun intended) with how her son raves about her oatmeal cookies, and if I could possibly get the recipe so that I can make some for him? I must have caught her on a good day, because she was flattered and I could hear her on the other end of the phone shuffling around the kitchen, excitedly looking for the recipe.

“Ahh, here it is! Do you have a pen and paper?”

(Was this really going to happen? How was I so lucky to be getting The Recipe?!?): “Absolutely! I’m ready!” 

(Still shuffling papers): “Okay, 7 sticks of butter.”

(Wow, we must be feeding the masses with this recipe! How many cookies are we making!?)

• 1 1/2 c flour
• 1/2 t baking soda
• 1/2 t ground cinnamon
• .
• .
• .

(Pen stops mid-air, confusion washing over me): “Wait, you lost me at 7 sticks of butter and 1 1/2 cups of flour…are you sure those are the right proportions?” I asked, feeling slightly ill. “How many cookies does this recipe make?”

(As confident as she was that Wesley Clark would win the Presidency back in ’04…and trust me with this one she was confident): “Yes, this is 100% the recipe! The batch makes about 24, but by the time you’ve snacked on the dough you’ll be lucky if you get 20. These cookies are so good. Maybe you should double the recipe? Just so you have enough?”

14 sticks of butter?!? I paused.

Okay, a couple of things here: 1. If I ‘snacked’ on the dough I would completely lube my insides – is that a good thing or a bad thing if I was going to consume these; and 2. Only 24 cookies? For real? (Quickly doing the math I realized that if the recipe made 20 cookies like she said, that is almost 3 tablespoons of butter per cookie!) But I didn’t want to rain on her parade…

(She excitedly continued): “I can’t wait to hear how they turn out! It has been so long since I have made them – maybe I’ll whip up a  batch as well!”

(It has probably been so long since you made them because all of the people you used to give them to have died of cardiac arrest.)

(I hear her excitedly close the cookbook): “Let me know how they turn out when you make them!”

(Hanging up the phone and turning to my future husband): “So I *think* I got the recipe from your mom…”

I read it off:

• 7 sticks of butter
• 1 1/2 c of flour
• 1/2 t baking soda
• 1/2 t ground cinnamon
• 1/4 t salt
• 1/2 c brown sugar
• 1/4 c white sugar
• .
• .
• .

Before I could even finish, then future-husband giddily said, “That is IT! I can’t wait! Can we make them now?!?”

“Um, no, I need to refinance the house to buy the butter for this recipe…are you sure this is right?”

(Like a kid on Christmas): “Absolutely!!!!!”

(Still flabbergasted): “Give me a couple of days.”

Consider this one of those cinematography moments, where in your favorite movie the camera goes to a different scene, but all the while you know something very interesting is occuring behind the original scene, and you are left in anticipation, waiting to see what happens…

Well, let me tell you what happened a few days later when I executed on my promise, and what I learned in the process: 1. No amount of refrigeration will stop the spread of cookie dough that contains 7 sticks of butter in it; 2. With a recipe like this you should never use a cookie sheet – you will be scraping burnt butter off the bottom of your oven for years…or so I have heard; 3. This recipe is essentially fried granola, which is probably a thing (and maybe even good?) but I couldn’t stomach the thought of even trying it; 4. There really weren’t 20 cookies, or 24 for that matter, there was one. One giant cookie the size of the baking sheet (if it didn’t ooze off the side); 5. The husband loved it and swore it tasted just like his mothers; 6. Yes, all of the people who used to receive a dozen of these cookies every Christmas probably were dead from coronary artery disease.

Sigh. I never made the recipe again. And I’m not sure anyone can blame me. But in the end, it didn’t matter, I still got the guy, oatmeal-cookie recipe and all.