I made my first batch of chocolate chip cookies in 1990. I was eight years old. I know this because my mom put my name by the recipe in the Betty Crocker cookbook that I used to make them.
I love to bake. It’s one of the few things that I think I do well. I bake when I am happy. I bake when I am sad. I bake when I am stressed. And I bake for people that I love.
I love the process of mixing ingredients just so to produce a yummy treat. I love the smell of baked goods. It fills the air with the smell of love because love goes into making them.
There have been times when I had no money to buy someone I loved a gift. The next best thing was a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Usually, people are thrilled with this gift.
I make them for my kids on their birthdays, and I have a fresh batch ready for an after school snack on the first day of school.
I love baking anything; loaves of bread, cakes, muffins, cinnamon rolls, whatever. But people know me for my chocolate chip cookies. Everyone says if you get a batch of Jessica’s chocolate chip cookies, you’re lucky.
I can’t take credit for the recipe. I obviously didn’t make it up when I started baking cookies at eight years old. Though I have had a lot of trial and error over the years to know how to make them “perfect”.
Heck, I don’t even need to open my copy of the Betty Crocker cookbook I have. I know the recipe by heart. I can whip up a batch of dough in a matter of 10 minutes now.
I’m pretty sure these cookies were the reason my boyfriend fell in love with me. He doesn’t deny this. I made him a batch when we first met, and I’ve been making them for him ever since.
Cookies are how I show people I love and care about them. I don’t feel like I have much to give sometimes due to getting in depressive funks, but if I give you my…