Filbert Nut Cookies

June 28, 2007 at 3:03 am Leave a comment

 

I just got back from a bike ride. Cholla insisted on going. She gave me that warm don’t leave me alone brown eyed look, so I attached the trailer to the bike and rode her out to Asilomar. It’s fun to do; people always make comments, and I have her company to look back on as I ride. I take her out in the kayak, too. She likes to bark at sea lions. Will she ever rid herself of her street dog days in Mexico? I don’t think so. Where most dogs are happy to romp, play with other dogs, chase sticks, she gets into her business like mode of looking for dead stuff. She’s very focused about it. So I pried open her mouth to dump out some item she was gnawing on, put on her leash and parked both of us in the sand to watch the waves for a bit. So beautiful. 

            Once home, I started pulling my dinner together. I didn’t have much in the refrigerator, so I started pulling things out of the freezer, and then, there it was! Two remaining filbert nut cookies! Round and brown and familiar and wonderful, there in a zip lock bag, probably dating back from approximately Christmas time when Lita ate almost the whole box that was sent to me.

            So filbert nut cookies. My brother in law Dave makes them, and my sister sends them to me. They arrive at each juncture of big struggles in my life, when I am no longer eating, can’t think of eating, and then there they are—hand made, with nuts and cinnamon, full of love and support, and then, the cycle is broken; I open the box and start eating. I try freezing them, but they are good frozen, too. They are exactly the size of the middle of the palm of my hand, and three fit in there nicely. By the third, that one mostly defrosts, though I confess I eat them pretty quickly.

            Dave insists on using real filberts. I think they are native to Oregon. He cracks them, chops them up, adds in his sensitive touches to make them perfect. He rolls the dough into a cylinder, slices them, cooks them in these ¼ inch rounds, all neat and tidy on the cookie sheet. Perfect.

            So, so many times these cookies have shown up exactly when I’ve needed that surprise of family comfort and love. They have arrived for break-ups in relationships, illnesses, job struggles, Russ’ illness, my grief…they come with a hand of caring and love and sweetness (and cinnamon!). The surprise and my reaction of joy in seeing (then eating) the two forgotten ones in the freezer, with just a bit of freezer burn, came to me just as I needed them once again, and didn’t clearly know I needed them. Though not especially overt, the grief continues its journey within me. Though it sounds trite, it’s true; we don’t “get over it.”

            Filbert nut cookies. They’re the best cookies on this planet. Handmade by Dave in Oregon. They help you get through life’s challenging events, AND, they, mmmm, taste wonderful.

             

             

           

           

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Entry filed under: Ruminations.

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