Cookies

I have some cookie issues. First they are mis-named. They should be called bakies since you bake them, not cook them. This aside, I've always loved cookies. What's not to love? Even a bad cookie is better than no cookie at all, but I see a major change slowly changing the face of my cookie world that is disturbing.

When I was a kid the markets had a cookie aisle. There were different types of cookies four shelves high for the entire length of the aisle. Now if you go to the cookie aisle at Fred Meyer there are about five feet of cookies, then ten feet of every sort of chocolate chip concoction possible then it goes into a couple feet of Nilla Wafers and bang you are into crackers for the rest of the aisle.

I can understand why people are off commercial cookies. They have changed past the point of being good, tasty or interesting. Have you had a Fig Newton lately. It's not the succulent treat it used to be. The fig paste is chewy and the cookie shell is akin to shredded cardboard. Have you tried dunking a chocolate cover graham cracker in milk lately? You can bite off the ends, put it in a glass of milk, come back an hour later and and find it still floating and the inside is still crisp. A proper graham cracker cookie should get totally mushy inside while the chocolate shell becomes cold and crisp.

Sometimes I just was a little cookie. That's why I usually have a bag of Mother's in the cupboard. I don't want the burden of trying to cut myself off from eating an entire bakery cookie. Mother's cookies are the perfect bite size for me.

Now let's talk about bakery cookies for a moment. Aside from chocolate chip and maybe oatmeal cookies, I am willing to bet that sinckerdoodles are among the top three most popular bakery cookies. So why can't you get a commercial snickerdoodle? There are so many nauseating varieties of chocolate chips on the shelves, why not pull one of the big chip with sprinkles and corn nuts that everyone overlooks and throw in sinckerdoodles. A new cookie could breath some new life into the dwindling cookie aisle. Trust me, I'm an expert.