I had to make the first move. He wasn’t going to do it.
I offered to open the hoarded coveted box of Triple Ginger Snaps from Trader Joe’s.
Now, I’m not big on store-bought cookies. But these are good. The natural-ingredient list is short and to the point: just sweet enough. Crunch to the nth degree. Just enough zing to the ginger. Small and potato-chip addictive.
But what caught me by surprise and had me grabbing the box to read it, was, after nearly a year and a half of having lived with someone who’s allergic to dairy–
“Butterrrrr,” I swooned. “Taste that butterrr.” I had really, really missed it.
Because, after all, you don’t bake the really good stuff and then have your kid come home and only be able to smell the heaven from the oven wafting around the house, mocking her. It wasn’t till her teens that she started reacting to it; she knows what she’s missing, and it’s hard enough.
But she’s got her own place now. I have butter in my freezer and I know how to use it. For the moment, though, while I figure out which recipe in my mental stash comes first (there’s no particular hurry), please pass the box.