Pie Crust Cookies

October 25, 2010 • Recipes

Show me a kitchen and I’ll show you the heartbeat of any home. A recent trip for a couple of days out of down proved everything dies or at least smells like something died when the cooking stops. The minute the door cracked the seal with the usual creaking sound that I refuse to fix, overwhelming smells of stillness and stale cold inactivity waxed an invisible vapor throughout. Flapping my arms in an attempt to cut the malodorous aroma proved to be of little help which is why a kitchen does more than feed the family. Besides providing an inviting ambiance for tying heart strings with loved ones, it breathes life into a home and deposits it’s redolent sweet nothings throughout reviving even the cracks and corners of the abandoned and forgotten spaces. No surprise I quickly got down to business as the head cook in charge of “operation kill that dead smell”.

Having just returned from “apple country” which is what I call it, though it bears another name that’s really not important, I am bountifully supplied with apples. The ideas (what to do with those apples) were many but the memory of cooking with mom as a child entertained my mind as I drove the long drive home. She was big on making pies. I’m not sure if we gathered around her feet while she baked because we were so hopelessly bored or if we just couldn’t fight the sense of curiosity the cinnamon and sugar conjured in us. Either way, I was deliriously in my own element when she handed us the left over clippings of pie crust she discarded as she trimmed the pies. Rolling pin in hand, I rolled and re-rolled and purposely exaggerated the experience of powdering the table, kneading the dough and more than likely transferring every imaginable microbe from my callow fingers to what would be our famous pie crust cookies. In my imaginary world, population me, I was grown and a five star chef that would make any famous restaurant proud to employ. Unbeknownst to my sister, she was my sou chef and answered to my every whim. Not really, she wasn’t keen on taking too many orders from me. Mom would soon break my stream of conscience with a quick, “Hurry up girls and let’s get this mess cleaned up.” The cinnamon sugar started flying and in a flash they were in the oven to spread their happy aroma throughout the house. Thankfully, I have not forgotten this little gem of a recipe. It is simply tasteful. I dressed it up a bit with the cornucopia of apples I now have, drizzled them with some carmel topping and my instant thought was a mini apple pie. Do this recipe with your children. It’s effortless, delicious and the memories will abound.