So on Saturday the 17th I went downstairs promptly at 1:00 p.m. to assist Sister Angelise with her Mexican wedding cake cookies (also known by several other names that I am unable to remember at this time). Sister Bridget was also in the kitchen preparing to make three different types of goodies herself: chocolate drop cookies, twice-baked biscotti and something else that tasted really good. Here we are, then, two experienced kitchen people and one not-so-experienced kitchen person who is wondering just when it will all end even though nothing had actually started. On goes the apron as I prepare to engage in my first task: making balls of the cookie dough. Alright, not so bad. Things are going smoothly as we put our cookies on the sheets and into the oven to later cover them in powdered sugar. In between all that, Sister Angelise and myself begin to help Sister Bridget with her cookies, too. We put cherries in the chocolate drop cookies, crunch up some walnuts, and I get to free all the utensils of their delicious batter. None of us had looked at the clock during this time and the next thing we knew it was 3:00. What was I doing in the kitchen so long! Two hours... Impossible. Should I leave? Do I panic? I don't understand. And yet, I'm still having fun. Weird. But I stayed.
The Final Product of Cookie Week |
We were all three in the kitchen together until 4:30, but for about an hour or so in that time, Sister Angelise and I had brought up our instruments -- she strummed some Christmas carols as I did my best to accompany her with the flute. Sister Bridget whizzed around, feeding us broken cookies, exclaiming, "I'm being serenaded! This is already my favorite Christmas!" Then she started telling stories and Sister Angelise, with her wonderful gift of improvisation, began to turn the stories into hilarious songs as I did a little jig or two for added effect. We had such a wonderful time, we decided to stay in the kitchen a little longer and put some frozen pizzas in the oven for everyone. We even whipped up some nacho cheese to satisfy our chips and queso craving. By the time we were done, it was a little after 5:00 and I felt blessed to spend my entire day in the kitchen.
Lord, I am amazed at the wonders You work in us. You can take the simplest task or the heaviest burden and turn it into a song of praise that even You are pleased to hear. You do this not for Yourself, but for us -- to give us a life that is worth living, a life that brings joy to us and to others. Thank You for loving us so much.
Okay, so if "bis-cotti" means "twice baked," are "twice baked biscotti" baked four times???
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Wonderful story. Beats the heck out of our novitiate days when three Italian American sisters (whose nonnas all came from different parts of Italy) tried to make home made ravioli from scratch and nearly created WWIII...
Haha, hey, I don't speak Italian! Perhaps "twice baked biscotti" is only meant to ensure that english speakers and italian speakers both know that the cookie is baked not once, but twice :P
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