A Column and not an EDITORIAL by John Estridge
Although they are universally called Ruth’s cookies, they are sugar cookies.
But for anyone who has tasted one, they are Ruth’s cookies.
The other day, I watched a new convert. My Long Suffering Wife Ruth had brought a couple dozen to a small gathering, and the lady was eyeing them. I watched her take one off the plate and inspect it. That made her a baker also. Men, who do not bake, just grab one and bite into it. Then, they stop talking and their expression changes.
Most everyone tries to say how good they are with the cookie still in their mouth. It’s allowed because it’s what everyone wants to do, to immediately express how good they are.
Women take three bites. That is the maximum for either gender. Many males take just two. And still they try to talk through it. Avert one’s eyes when that happens, and if one is near a male talking after taking just two bites, a defensive hand up in front of one’s face is good form.
I have tried to take more than three bites, especially now, but I cannot. For old people like me – when cartoons were cartoons — when I eat one of Ruth’s cookies, I become Snuffles, the cartoon dog, who will do anything for dog biscuits and after eating one, hugs himself and then levitates. Try as he might, he eats them in one gulp.
Anyway, the lady tried to express how good they were with her mouth full. As I said, everyone else in the room besides her husband had gone through the process before, we were Veterans, so we expected it. She marveled at the texture. She said she has only encountered how soft they are with store-bought cookies. I am a witness, Ruth does not use cake mixes. It is magic. Her husband somewhat reluctantly took a bite. He immediately did the unspeakable and talked about how much better they are than his mother’s sugar cookies. His name is being withheld to protect the guilty.
Back before I was the Fired Editor, and the other old people still worked there, we would have pitch-ins at the drop of a hat. They were very good pitch-ins especially when we could talk Gary (The General) into frying chicken (he worked at Mounds when he was in high school and knew the secret) or making corn fritters. At first, after tasting Ruth’s cookies, they would just pen that in after my name while they were posting a pitch-in list. Soon, it got to the point whoever designed the list would just type in Ruth’s cookies beside my name.
I never brought any back home.
One of the Old Breed moved to the East Coast. She said she would drive herself back here just to pick up a couple dozen of Ruth’s cookies. But she said they probably would not survive the trip back.
People liken them to crack cocaine. Again, that is the old people as our drug lingo has not moved forward with the times.
I allowed myself one of Ruth’s cookies yesterday as she was making them for a friend and neighbor who just had a heart operation and for the small gathering. Ruth gave me the look when I did it as I can no longer eat Ruth’s cookies.
Before I complain more I want everyone reading this to understand I know there are many, many more dire diseases than Type 2 diabetes, especially mine. I just quit eating good things and lost a bunch of weight, which I had it in abundance to lose. I no longer have to take diabetes medication, which is a very good thing.
When I first learned I was extra sweet, something I think my mom and I already knew, I thought I would just give up sweets. No. It is carbs. For anyone who thinks giving up carbs is easy, it is not. Carbs are everything good about food.
After I started THE DIET, and when I say me, I also mean Ruth as it will not work unless both ends of the couple are dedicated to it, and God love her, she went on THE DIET with me, except for her cookies and zucchini bread, which is another item people lust after, everyone – and I mean everyone – just knew I would never follow it. But I did and I am.
I dropped 50 pounds over the course of several months, and I even had my doctor tell me I needed to gain weight – WOW – and add some more carbs to my diet. That is a very tricky thing to do because it is like starting a small snowball at the top of a mountain, and not have it become an avalanche. I started picking up too much weight too quickly and just recently made myself back off my new introduced wonderful carbs, PASTA, and I again shed a few pounds.
Before THE DIET, I really did not eat desserts. I kick myself for that now. An aside here, I was never able to kick myself in the behind. I have been a junior high male for about 64 years, which includes now, so rest assured I have tried that a few times just to see if I could. I don’t try anymore because of my balance issues from my Events I Can No Longer Talk About But Always Do (EICNLTABAD). It is really a task for me to be on a flat, hard surface on a day with no wind and both feet firmly on the ground and not fall over so trying to stand on one leg and kicking myself in the behind is just out. I don’t want to break bones at my age.
The exception to not eating desserts is Ruth’s family get togethers. My step daughter Angie is a baker extraordinaire. My OLDEST sister Linda won grand champion at the state fair or something like that for her yeast rolls. She still can make exceptional cinnamon rolls and yeast rolls, but I am very glad Linda is not in slapping range, because Angie is the better baker.
And of course we have Ruth’s cookies.
I try not to go over to the dessert table at family gatherings. I try not to watch other people bring back to the tables pieces of Angie’s pies, cakes, cobblers and Angie’s chocolate chip cookies, which are almost, almost as good as Ruth’s cookies. I want to live through nights at home, so I want to emphasize Angie’s chocolate chip cookies are almost, almost as good as Ruth’s cookies.
And of course they bring back Ruth’s cookies if any are left at that point.
Also, I miss chocolate.
Before I had to go on THE DIET, I had a habit of eating a candy bar in the afternoons at work. I liked Three Musketeers, Hershey Bars, Reese Cups and Butterfingers. When I could eat Dairy Cottage’s wonderful Cyclones, I would always get cookie dough and either Reese Cups or Butterfingers. I usually allow myself one or two small cyclones a summer now.
Also, I miss Graeter’s ice cream, specifically Buckeye Blitz. I learned I could eat one-third of a cup a night and stay on my carb intake goal, but it was and is really hard to just eat one third of a cup.
Again, what I am going through is nothing like what other people have to go through because of the terrible diseases out there. But having to watch people eat Ruth’s cookies, OMG. And OMG is really inadequate. Let’s make that OMG squared. I tried to write a little 2 beside the OMG, — for squared — but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.
So, if one gets the chance to eat one of Ruth’s cookies, count your bites, don’t worry about telling people how good they are with your mouth full, and if I am in the vicinity, try to turn your back to me.
It helps.
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