Oreos - A Covid Cookie Confession

Who knew that I'd ever write a blog about Oreos? Yes, the cookies.

Google tells me Oreos have been around since March 6, 1912.  I haven't been around quite that long, but I do remember them as a kid. In fact, I feel the need to finally confess that as a child, I may have single handedly contributed to the rodent population of Little Italy in Toronto. Let me explain.

My parents and I lived in a second story flat on Clinton Street when I was about seven or eight years old. By flat, I mean a small bedroom for three, a tiny kitchen, and a bathroom shared with two other families. Wow!

We were not very well off  since my parents had just moved to the city from a gold mining town wayyyy north of Superior. At first, they  took whatever jobs they could get. This improved somewhat when mom got a position at the Imperial Bank of Canada, and dad began as an audio technician at CBC.

From time to time they would purchase cookies...not really essential since mom often made magnificent European tortes. Cookies were somewhat different though. Mom only made the special varieties of German ones, pfeffernuss, almond crescents, linzer, and oblaten, at Christmas, hence the purchases.

I remember on one occasion we had a package of Oreos. I'm not sure why.  Perhaps they were on sale at Mr. Morris' Grocery store on the corner. There was nothing appealing looking about them. After all, they weren't Peak Freans shortbread, chocolate chip, or graham wafers (the other occasional purchases).  In fact, Oreos had a disgusting dark brown exterior, slightly bitter, that stuck tellingly between your teeth. The only redeeming feature was the lining...white "stuff" of some creamy consistency, probably pure sugar.

One day, when I was home alone after school, I searched for a snack. There wasn't much around except canned goods, the blender my parents had purchased to make skim milk from powder, and a packet of Oreos. After considering the depth of trouble I'd be in, I went for it, grabbed a handful and tried to eat one. My contorted mouth after tasting the cookie helped me decide on a new plan. I had to think fast. Where would I hide the evidence? I headed for the kitchen window which faced the back yard, opened it somewhat, and began an epic activity which has haunted me for some sixty years.

As I pulled apart each cookie, I savoured the edible sandwiched centres, lick by lick, considered the outer wafers, then tossed them from the second story, watching them spiral to the ground below.

Surprisingly, nothing ever became of my misdeed...not from my parents, and not from our landlords. Either the cookie shells disappeared by means of wildlife, or  they were so well disguised in the dirt that they became compost. To me they had certainly tasted like something akin to soil.

Why did I think to write this now? Well, I haven't checked Snopes, to see whether this is a real thing or not. I have decided that I don't want to know. Someone posted it on Facebook  thus bringing back memories of the great cookie caper.

Merry Christmas 2015

This year, was an unusual year. It will probably go down in history as the warmest Christmas in Ontario history. I'm fine with it. I'm old and don't need snow ever again. On the other hand, we're all waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Our activities began with the annual cookie making and gingerbread house creating. A friend came over and we made "martini" cookies. The only part of this activity that had a martini in it was my tummy...oh, and of course the shape of the cookie cutter.

This was followed by the annual gingerbread house creation. My daughter and I agreed that despite the weather, we miss the tropics, hence this property, complete with pool, palms and clothesline. Of course, no house is complete without a gingerbread family (courtesy of my daughter).

We visited the Primrose Donkey Sanctuary for the annual carolling with the donkeys. This was actually one of the cooler days of the month, but nonetheless, the donkeys sang their hearts out.

One evening, we strolled downtown to enjoy our lovely annual Christmas light display.

Afterward, we admired the store fronts, the beautiful town hall, and the gingerbread houses. The houses were fabulous but we were satisfied with ours. One particular window caught Carmen's eye.

Christmas Eve was an interesting time. We walked on the beach and hubby barbecued our lunch. Then we enjoyed the festive evening with family. No frightful weather, no delightful fire, no snow. It was fine with me.

On Christmas morning, all the eager ones were awake bright and early. They ate and opened gifts....exhausting.


Merry Christmas to all, and to all....goodnight.

Another Birthday and A Weekend Away

I have to say that sometimes, when you least expect it, things happen. I'm talking about a series of events which sometimes fall into place really nicely. So was my last week.

I recently had another birthday. Where do those keep coming from? Of course, for the most part birthdays become increasingly undesirable as we age. This one, was a pleasant surprise.

I awoke to find the kitchen decorated with gifts, balloons, and balloon animals. My daughter had

been busy during the night. Knowing how much hubby likes gifts, she even got a present for him so that he might celebrate his half birthday. Later in the day, we all enjoyed some lovely Greek take-out food, bubbly wine drinks, and a birthday cake...Smurfs.
                             
The next day, my friend and I headed out for Ottawa. I had recently received an email about the Signatures Show, so we decided it would be worth attending.  We arrived at the Novotel in the evening, after cautiously negotiating our way through a rainstorm and the usual construction. We had an unremarkable dinner. (see my Tripadvisor Review of Albion Rooms, Ottawa)

Saturday morning, we left bright and early for the Byward Market. We passed several amusing signs and one that was slightly disturbing....grass fed beef with a picture of a puffin?

We explored, bought some special celebratory Trudeau cookies, and eventually wandered toward the Shaw Centre where the Signature Show was happening. What a treat that was. Admission was a bargain at $6 senior. They were optimistic that we looked like shoppers and we were given a special bag for being one of the first 200 to enter the show on that day. The artisans were amazing. This wasn't one of those, sampling crackers and jam types of shows. There were many creative designers of jewellery, rugs, art, leather, knitwear, and more. There were unique items and best of all, they were totally Canadian. Talented creators had come from Quebec and other parts of the country to show off their work. Not only that, the artisans were willing to chat at length about their skills, talents, and dreams for the future. This wasn't just an exhibit, it was an experience.

By afternoon, we were tired enough for a rest but that didn't deter us from further explorations later in the day. We had seen a store that advertised "no ordinary shoes" and at the time, I hadn't realized that they sold Canadian designer John Fluevog wares. I had seen these shoes before in the Distillery District in Toronto. I often wondered whether they would fit my platypus feet. We had to return to try some, just to say we had. After an hour and a half, and a very helpful and persistent sales girl who was convinced that she could find shoes to fit me, along came a pair of what I like to call, Minnie Mouse/Daisy Duck shoes. They were large, wide, comfortable and most of all, had a heel. It was an interesting heel, but nonetheless, it was a heel. I was ecstatic as I whipped out my birthday money and clung to the shoes as if they were the most beautiful things on earth. Actually, they are...especially when they're on my feet. Now I am the proud owner of "no ordinary shoes". After all, I'm no ordinary person.

Truth be told, we tried every shoe in the store.

Sensible shoes with flare

After an eventful and exhausting day, we collapsed fatigued, woke up early the next day, had breakfast, and began to head home. That's not to say we drove directly home, but we did arrive eventually.