A Zelinske Tradition

Ever since I can remember, my grandfather, Bum as we called him [maybe more on that name later] always made cut out cookies. Since they were soo tasty, my parents got the recipe and it was the one cookie that we made and ate EVERY year. Well, Bum passed away September of 2008 and I the cookies took on a whole knew meaning. Now they aren't just a cookie but they remind me of him.

So in honor of him, I took my first crack at it. My directions more or less were to cream butter & sugar, add the egg, vanilla, baking powder, and flour. Roll out, cut out, bake for 6 minutes (depending on your oven). GREAT this should be a piece of cake.

But no...then came the exceptions. 

"Well," my mom said, "I'm never sure how thick to roll them. 

If you roll them too thick they won't cook (aka raw egg), 

and if you roll them too thin they will burn." 

My response....

"How on earth am I supposed to know how thick or thin to roll them."

My mom's response...

"Roll one set and bake them. If they come out okay, you did it right.

If they burn or don't cook, you did it wrong."

Ohhh of course! Why didn't I think of that. Without a real clear answer (and by the way I left out the conversation about whether it should be butter or shortening) off I went with the recipe with no intention to make them this weekend due to other plans. We tried going to church this morning, but we have to use a windy and hilly road to get there. We got about 85% there when we hit a stoppage of cars on a hill that we classified as a "sheet of ice". So no church today, we turned around and came back home. 

Which leads me to my cookies. The first batch was thick--they were in the oven for quite awhile, and although they were checked frequently they got a little brown...really only a little. So I rolled the next 2 batches better (at least in my opinion). And here they are in all their sprinkled glory (next time I will be using colored sugar...sooo much better than sprinkles). They are a little crunchy..not burnt...crunchy. They look pretty, but someday I'll have to try again to do them justice.

 

 

**Now for my grandfather's name, Bum. The story is that he would always tell the first Zelinske grandchild (not me, I'm the 3rd) "You're a bum." and eventually my cousin responded..."No, your a bum". So the name was born, Bum...or Bum-Bum because we repeated cool names like that.