On the day we left Calgary I came home from work and found a container on my doorstep. It was full of homemade muffins and cookies, a bag of goldfish crackers and a Fruit & Nut bar (how did she know?) – car snacks for our road trip. All I had done was toss the remainder of the mangos back into their box (if I was a nicer person I would have left them for my sister) along with a dozen apples and a few blood oranges. And made two peanut butter sandwiches, but only because I’m cheap enough (or environmentally conscious enough?) to care about using up the last third of a loaf of bread.
The cookies C made for us to eat in the car weren’t instantly identifiable as such. In my panic to finish up work, upload some video, pack and get out the door at a reasonable hour I opened the lid, saw beige, closed it again, re-read the card. Later, as we wound through Rogers’ Pass, I remembered the container and dug it out from under piles of rubber boots and pillows. The cookies were enormous and thin, crisp-chewy, buttery-sweet. Like those lacy cookies that are mostly butter and sugar with some oatmeal thrown in to make you feel better about eating them.
So I sent her a SMS message (how high-tech am I?) from the highway and asked for the recipe. “Just oats and sugar”, she sent back. “Easy!”
I pushed for more details. 3 tablespoons of flour, she hinted. And some vanilla.
With lace cookies on the brain, I set about finding the recipe. When staying on the furthestmost west coast of Canada, on an island, where ingredients are available but pricey, the house is full of preschoolers and adults who need something sweet too, quick stir-together recipes that require little more than a bowl and spoon are key. With oatmeal, butter and sugar on hand, oatmeal lace cookies, it turns out, are perfect cabin food. And perfect with a mug of tea or hot chocolate after a blustery afternoon on the beach.