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Quoting Willowwind:
Some days are like cookies. You stroll by the windows of the local establishment, checkered with invitations, suggestions, and the scattered specials. Most pause and peruse the nondescript scribblings on the signs, reading with a mind that is so far from recognizing what they say. Then there is the casual visitor satisfying a curiosity and never able to chose or make a decisive move to order anything. But there is always the cookie hunter. That person with their mouth set for the melting enjoyment of the sweet morsels that are presented for the taking, willing to pay the price for the exquisite taste of that first cookie.
We see them through the polished glass compartments. The scent of mixed aromas fills the air to the open door. Vanilla dances with cinnamon, butter flavors the breeze. Sunlight fills the little shop with it's cold appearing glass cases. The door at the rear, with the clouded little oval windows that hide the secrets, swings as an afterthought behind the cookie bringers as they shuffle through it.
At times there are samples spattered on a plate, bits and pieces, or, whole cookies. A plethora of tantalizing morsels each with their own appeal.
The classic chocolate chip stacked neatly like fallen dominoes, is a common choice. It's safety is comforting, it's taste familiar. There is no expectation, just knowing. Then there are the scrumptious white chocolate and macadamia nut, a perfect blend of erotic with the not so usual; smoothness and crunch complimenting each other with the slightest taste of sweetness,
non obtrusive to the stars of it's show.
In the far corner of the glass are the simple and delicately plain sugar cookies topped with surprising little crystals of sweetness, clear, yet, a welcome taste like a long lost friend.
The oatmeal and raisin cookies lay in individual places, neatly in line as if to give you the impression of solidity; the joining of sweetness with little snippets of grayish oatmeal pieces intended to make your body healthy, as are the raisins; sun-sweet grapes who seem to have lost their moisture somewhere in between the vines and dehydrators. Perhaps they were wrinkled naturally by the sunlight, but, their original shape is lost somewhere in the batter.
Stacked in piles, the wedding cookies, covered in their layer of sweet powder, speak to your mouth, whispering how easy it is to eat several at a time, filling your mouth with multiple tastes of the same flavor infused with crushed little bits of pecan. Then, you lick your lips to savor the sweet lingering white powder that clings to them.
Meticulously lined up tea cookies, with their semi-sweet sticky jam centers, offer you the ease of savoring a particularly bland outer layer, and mixing the flavored jams on your palette like an
afterthought.
Then the door opens again. Carried on slightly dulled silver trays are still warm and soft circles
of anticipation. Their scent distinctive. Their appearance defined, like no other cookie.
A smooth even surface, gentle sloping edges, not too large, not small, individual temptations to
every breath. Yes, these cookies are not for everyone; they are an acquired taste. Barely displayed, exquisitely and purposefully made to savor and tantalize; the mating of cultures; the simplistic ingredient is only used in these ancient morsels. As individual as each flavor magically blended in a love affair of sensory pleasures, the smell, touch, taste, offer you a pleasure with an exotically intoxicating after taste that beckons you like a drug, to partake of another and another. Ahhhh, the timeless ginger cookie. Sexual, sensuous, like Eastern silk, or a emotion you crave to explore as the texture and flavor entice your mind and tease your tongue. You like them, treasure their individual perfect taste, or, you dislike them completely.
Cookies, many shapes, many tastes, displayed as if they were the only one on the shelf. We shuffle through life, darting into the cookie store for a quick bite; walk in with purpose to find one particular one; choose the standard cookie you have always eaten. Sometimes you wish you had time to check out something new, but usually look around unable to choose from the endless choices and settle for the ole standard. Or, you realize you can walk in slowly, close your eyes, and take a deep breath; become lost in the aromas, allowing your senses to lead you, to fill your mind with the anticipation of which pleasure you will sample first, which flavor you will cherish first, then, you find yourself asking for a go bag to enjoy one particularly exceptional cookie over and over.
Choices ......
Some days are like cookies. You stroll by the windows of the local establishment, checkered with invitations, suggestions, and the scattered specials. Most pause and peruse the nondescript scribblings on the signs, reading with a mind that is so far from recognizing what they say. Then there is the casual visitor satisfying a curiosity and never able to chose or make a decisive move to order anything. But there is always the cookie hunter. That person with their mouth set for the melting enjoyment of the sweet morsels that are presented for the taking, willing to pay the price for the exquisite taste of that first cookie.
We see them through the polished glass compartments. The scent of mixed aromas fills the air to the open door. Vanilla dances with cinnamon, butter flavors the breeze. Sunlight fills the little shop with it's cold appearing glass cases. The door at the rear, with the clouded little oval windows that hide the secrets, swings as an afterthought behind the cookie bringers as they shuffle through it.
At times there are samples spattered on a plate, bits and pieces, or, whole cookies. A plethora of tantalizing morsels each with their own appeal.
The classic chocolate chip stacked neatly like fallen dominoes, is a common choice. It's safety is comforting, it's taste familiar. There is no expectation, just knowing. Then there are the scrumptious white chocolate and macadamia nut, a perfect blend of erotic with the not so usual; smoothness and crunch complimenting each other with the slightest taste of sweetness,
non obtrusive to the stars of it's show.
In the far corner of the glass are the simple and delicately plain sugar cookies topped with surprising little crystals of sweetness, clear, yet, a welcome taste like a long lost friend.
The oatmeal and raisin cookies lay in individual places, neatly in line as if to give you the impression of solidity; the joining of sweetness with little snippets of grayish oatmeal pieces intended to make your body healthy, as are the raisins; sun-sweet grapes who seem to have lost their moisture somewhere in between the vines and dehydrators. Perhaps they were wrinkled naturally by the sunlight, but, their original shape is lost somewhere in the batter.
Stacked in piles, the wedding cookies, covered in their layer of sweet powder, speak to your mouth, whispering how easy it is to eat several at a time, filling your mouth with multiple tastes of the same flavor infused with crushed little bits of pecan. Then, you lick your lips to savor the sweet lingering white powder that clings to them.
Meticulously lined up tea cookies, with their semi-sweet sticky jam centers, offer you the ease of savoring a particularly bland outer layer, and mixing the flavored jams on your palette like an
afterthought.
Then the door opens again. Carried on slightly dulled silver trays are still warm and soft circles
of anticipation. Their scent distinctive. Their appearance defined, like no other cookie.
A smooth even surface, gentle sloping edges, not too large, not small, individual temptations to
every breath. Yes, these cookies are not for everyone; they are an acquired taste. Barely displayed, exquisitely and purposefully made to savor and tantalize; the mating of cultures; the simplistic ingredient is only used in these ancient morsels. As individual as each flavor magically blended in a love affair of sensory pleasures, the smell, touch, taste, offer you a pleasure with an exotically intoxicating after taste that beckons you like a drug, to partake of another and another. Ahhhh, the timeless ginger cookie. Sexual, sensuous, like Eastern silk, or a emotion you crave to explore as the texture and flavor entice your mind and tease your tongue. You like them, treasure their individual perfect taste, or, you dislike them completely.
Cookies, many shapes, many tastes, displayed as if they were the only one on the shelf. We shuffle through life, darting into the cookie store for a quick bite; walk in with purpose to find one particular one; choose the standard cookie you have always eaten. Sometimes you wish you had time to check out something new, but usually look around unable to choose from the endless choices and settle for the ole standard. Or, you realize you can walk in slowly, close your eyes, and take a deep breath; become lost in the aromas, allowing your senses to lead you, to fill your mind with the anticipation of which pleasure you will sample first, which flavor you will cherish first, then, you find yourself asking for a go bag to enjoy one particularly exceptional cookie over and over.
Choices ......
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