“Ok, we need to make a quadruple batch of sandies.”
“Are you sure that’ll be enough? When Mom finds them, we may not have enough for the gift bags.”
“Well, we’re making shortbread, too – plain and chocolate-dipped with walnuts. She may go more for the shortbread, so we’ll have enough sandies.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget we have to give extra shortbread to Bampa. Let’s add some cranberry stars just to be safe….”

And so the Christmas cookie planning began every year. My sister and I would scour Mom’s copies of Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book and the Joy of Cooking, finding our favorite cookie recipes and trying to be brave enough to choose the adventurous ones, like Chinese almond crisps and brandy snaps. Our planning had to be meticulous because we two were responsible for creating the 30+ gift bags of goodies that went to neighbors, coworkers, friends and family.

As I head home to celebrate my 41st Christmas with my parents and my sister, I can’t help but remember the holiday traditions of my childhood. Sarah and I are 3.5 years apart, and when we were kids it was tough to get us to agree on anything. We fought about what to watch on TV, which video games to play on the Atari, who was going to unload the dishwasher, whose friends got to take over the trampoline after school… you name it. But when it came to our cookie-making business, we worked as partners.

It really was a business. Somehow we talked our parents into buying all the ingredients for the cookie fest, plus paying us $2 a bag for our finished products. As the older sister, I led the negotiations. I reasoned that we put in hours and hours of time to create these essential holiday gifts, and we should be compensated. Looking back, I don’t think we asked for enough money because really about a third of our work never made it to the bags – little elves snuck into the freezers to steal from the bags of cookies, or they pried open the airtight containers on the counter. The losses were heaviest in the sandies department (Mom’s favorite) and oatmeal raisin (that was Papa). Sarah and I ate anything chocolate, plus cookie dough from every batch.

There was something magical about the creation of those bags. Mom and Pop would put in their orders. Some families got big bags or even the coveted beautiful boxes. Others got a small sampling. Both parents had to have a big plate for their office break rooms. Two days before delivery date, the kitchen counter would be lined with bright packages of home-baked gifts. The two of us were DONE with cookies by the time they were ready to go out, but still – there was a sense of satisfaction of having put so much time and care into confections that people would enjoy, of seeing the pride our parents took in saying, “The girls baked these for you.”

Coming Tomorrow... The Best and Worst of Our Holiday Cookies...

Did you bake holiday cookies with your family? What memories do you have of the smells, the recipes, the colored sugar sprinkles?

• ‹ The Best and Worst of Our Holiday Cookies
• First Interview. Lesson Learned. ›