The holiday tradition of baking Christmas cookies has been passed down to me. But mine is nothing like the major production Gertrude made of baking. I wish I could capture the aroma coming out of her kitchen. The smell of ginger, cinnamon and chocolate was amazing and thinking about it makes me think of Gertrude. Gertrude made so many different kinds of cookies. She would spend days just making the cookie dough. Then she spent many more days baking them. I got to be there when the sugar cookies were made. I loved to watch her carefully roll out the dough to just the right thickness and then I would decide what shapes to use to make the cookies. Santa was a favorite of mine. We (I) would decide what color sprinkles to put on each cookie. She has shakers with green, red, blue, yellow and even chocolate ones, she called Jimmies.
To keep all the cookies fresh, she placed them in tins saved from fruit cakes that had been sent to my grandparents from Texas. (When I lived in Texas I had to find this bakery. It is in Corsicana which is south of Dallas. They still make the same fruit cakes and ship them all over the world. Unfortunately, fruit cake is not my favorite treat.) Once the cookies were safely place in the tins she would put them in the front vestibule. If you are not a Yankee, a vestibule is a small space between the outside door and in the inside door. This space keeps the cold air trapped, a perfect place to store cookies.
This year I will wait until my “kids” arrive after Christmas to make the cookies. I now have to share them with others but it okay, because whatever day we celebrate Christmas is fine with me. Our tradition is to listen to Neil Diamond sing Christmas carols. Nothing like listening to a Jewish boy sing Christmas carols.
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