I remember like it was yesterday, sitting in my Grandma Adams' kitchen watching her throw down some incredible sweets that were desired by all family members and friends. From her cinnamon hard candy, chocolate covered goodies, to her pin wheel cookies. Any time I knew she was going to be spending the whole day in her kitchen baking, I wanted to be there the entire time as well. I do believe that is when the cooking bug was born inside of me.
One day grandma pulled out this metal object that looked way to strange to be part of baking. It looked more like something that my father would use to fix something in the house. It was made of metal, had a spring loaded trigger and all types of nozzles that attached to the front of this "Cool gun thingy ma-giger". Next thing I knew, my grandma took her batter out of the fridge, scooped her cookie dough into the gun and proceeded to tell me exactly what this object was all about.
"Now Bekah," she would say as she finished assembling the gun together. "This is called a cookie press..."
"Cookie press?" I thought to myself....I was so intrigued by this time that I barely paid attention to what she was explaining about the operation of this absolutely AWESOME kitchen gun! I have not really helped too much in the kitchen at this age. I caused more of a mess and mistakes than helped with an outcome at this age. I knew I needed more "Saddle time" in kitchen watching than aiding. But now the time had come...she placed the "Cookie shooter" in my hands and a cookie sheet. "Now just start making cookies like I told you"
"WHAT?" I panicked....I hadn't heard a word she said when she was explaining this to me. I took a deep breath and looked around as if a repeat of the instructions were somewhere around. I took a deep breath, a short prayer to God, and with so much determination of showing my grandma her trust in me was "right on" I put that cookie press the to cookie sheet and started pulling that trigger like it was an automatic weapon.
The look in my grandma's eyes was priceless....she pulled the cookie sheet away from me, took a spatula and scrapped the mounded mess of dough back into the mixing bowl. She disassembled the gun and began to fill it again. With much forgiveness and patience, she filled that gun back up and showed me again how to press cookies. I made sure I paid attention this time. I was tired of "Saddle time" in my grandma's kitchen....I was ready to be her right hand gal....and that day that is exactly what I became.
