{"id":1752,"date":"2005-04-22T17:17:00","date_gmt":"2005-04-22T17:17:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/04\/22\/sugar-high-friday-or-long-distance-ginger-molasses-cookies-for-kate"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:24","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:24","slug":"sugar-high-friday-or-long-distance-ginger-molasses-cookies-for-kate","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/04\/sugar-high-friday-or-long-distance-ginger-molasses-cookies-for-kate\/","title":{"rendered":"Sugar High Friday, or Long-Distance Ginger-Molasses Cookies for Kate"},"content":{"rendered":"
More often than not, Orangette is just a fancy cover for what might be more appropriately titled \u201cThe Molly-and-Her-Friends Show,\u201d or \u201cWhat We Ate, How Ridiculous We Were, and How Much We Adore Each Other Because of and\/or Despite Our Ridiculousness<\/strong>.\u201d Lately, however, it\u2019s been a little quieter than usual around here. A principal cast member is missing, and that would be Kate\u2014she of the pointy red heels, long-distance bike rides, winning-hearts-and-minds cakes<\/a>, broken French, early-morning bread-baking<\/a>, gin and tonics on the 18th floor, mussels with crabs<\/a>, and the vacuum cleaner with a hip-hop low-ride shag setting.<\/p>\n About three weeks ago, Kate packed up nearly all of her worldly possessions and jetted off to India on a six-week business trip<\/strong>. When not slaving away, she\u2019s petting elephants outside her hotel (\u201cThey are so leathery and sweet and misty-eyed and hUGE!\u201d) and pounding the pavement in her practical but less chic Easy Spirit heels. She\u2019s having coffee in a \u201cpre-independence coffee shop\u2014beautiful wood, leather, simple tables, white long apron on lanky legs and dust swirling in the sun<\/strong>\u2014with dusty clientele sipping their excellent coffee and milk, discussing politics and religion for hours.\u201d And she\u2019s running in a park that\u2019s \u201cbeautiful and enormous, with trees dropping pools of flowers that perfume everything and make it look as though brightly colored light is pouring up through the ground at the base of each tree<\/strong>.\u201d Now, certainly, all of this is very nice, and it\u2019s lovely to live vicariously through her letters. But really, it\u2019s not <\/em>okay.<\/p>\n There\u2019s no one, for instance, to make sure that I\u2019m getting my weekly quota of whipped cream<\/a>, and there is no vacuum to borrow, low-ride or otherwise. Though Kate left me with custody of her Otis Redding CD and the remains of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin, cocktail hour is somehow lacking. And my visits to Victrola Coffee<\/a>\u2014where we\u2019ve been known to stage riots if the outrageously delicious <\/strong>Macrina<\/strong><\/a> ginger-molasses cookies are sold out<\/strong>\u2014are much less gossipy, much more productive, and no fun at all. If this continues, you may soon find \u201cThe Molly-and-Her-Friends Show\u201d shelved with the dramas, rather than the comedies. I may also get very skinny and very sober.<\/p>\n But you know me better than that. Rather than mope and starve, I bake. Last Monday, in honor of Kate\u2019s 26th birthday, I gave myself The Macrina Bakery and Caf\u00e9 Cookbook<\/em>, which happens to hold within its very pretty covers the recipe for our coveted cookies. That night, there was no drama and there were no riots, and instead there were gin and tonics and ginger-molasses cookies\u2014dark and spicy, cakey and buttery, with a crisp, sugar-coated edge<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<\/a>
Though perhaps better dipped in milk than in Bombay (Sapphire), they filled my apartment with a perfume strong, delicious, and exotic<\/strong> enough to, I\u2019m sure, be confused with that of the loveliest flowering tree in a park in Bangalore. Soon, Kate can tell me for herself.
Happy (belated) birthday, ma petite!<\/em><\/p>\n