They’re not entirely much to look at, these little cornmeal cookies. I mean, they’re cute. Ish. A nice yellow color. But no flashy icings or drizzles or nutty mix-ins. No chocolate to speak of. These cookies, though, they’re keepers. They’re interesting (in a not-at-all-snarky way, I mean). They’re not entirely sweet, but they’re not entirely savory. More cookie than cracker, but just barely. Not even close to entirely spiced. Hints of ginger and cinnamon, but only hints, not slaps. Because these cookies don’t slap you until they slap you.
You’ll be sitting there on the couch, contemplating washing your hair and wondering why you ever choose a nail polish color other than Essie’s Lollipop (because it just makes you feel the best about life), and you’ll be cautiously sipping your too-hot cup of tea and planning out your grocery list for tomorrow and you’ll want a snack. Just a little something, to go with your steaming tea.
So you’ll toss a cornmeal cookie in your mouth. A whole one, because they’re quite small and because who says you have to be dainty, anyway, while you’re sitting on your own couch with crazy hair and tea? And you’ll start to chew, still thinking about groceries, but then the tiny grains of cornmeal will pop gently under your teeth and the cookie’s soft crumb will yield perfectly and your tongue will do dances with butter, with faint sweetness and traces of spice, and so you’ll stop. You’ll stop everything but the chewing, reveling in this wondrous little cookie, and when you swallow you’ll feel both happy and forlorn. So you’ll pick up another cornmeal cookie, and the process will repeat itself. Again and again, amid sips of hot tea. Until all of the tea, or possibly all of the cookies, are gone.
Do you prefer your cookies entirely sweet? Must you always have some chocolate? Do you even drink tea? And would you make an exception for a humble little cornmeal cookie?
So many questions. So many cookies. The answer, I’m pretty sure, is yes.