Hungry for my favorite treat I asked all the ladies who volunteered at the Gate Coffeehouse about their cookie recipes. Everyone had a favored molasses cookie recipe. All were good—some exceptional. But, none matched those of Todd’s mother. With the rift being so severe, I didn’t dare call his house, ask for his mother, and beg for the recipe. My hand did drift near the phone once in a while, but I didn’t call.
It’s been decades. But every time I visit Portland, it’s inevitable that I’ll think about those cookies. Losing a good friend is always hard, but losing a great molasses cookie. That’s tragic.
But as they say in Yiddish: Azoy vert dos kichel tzekrochen! (That’s how the cookie crumbles!)