Chocolate Chip Memories

"I'm not a chef. But I'm passionate about food. The tradition of it, cooking it, and sharing it." -Zac Posen

My friend, Kellen, tagged me to a recipe on Facebook."This is heaven," read his caption, so I hit play on the video to see what had captured his fancy.

Chocolate Fudge Stuffed Cookie Slices

What we're talking about here is a essentially a chocolate chip cookie bar with an extra layer of gooey chocolate sandwiched in the middle.

Look, I'm no mind reader, but I know a hint when I see one, and I love to bake things for other people. So after a quick trip to the store for the chocolate chips and a can of condensed milk, I set to work.

As I stirred and sifted, measured and mixed, I thought about Kellen's passion for chocolate chip cookies. He loves to eat them fresh from the oven around bedtime, and I've seen considerable photographic evidence that he often bakes up a plateful to share with his nine-year-old son. As Kellen works to become a more present parent than he was during the early years of his son's life, cookies represent the new constancy and commitment between them, and I'm honored to be part of their chocolate chip cookie tradition.

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And I remembered, as I often do when whipping up batches of chocolate chip cookies, my mother's story about the first time she ever ate this delicacy. Back in the 1940s, as a teenager, she went with her church choir in very small-town Michigan for refreshments at a local woman's home. This lady had a flair for fashionable developments, and she served the brand new Tollhouse Cookies that were all the rage in that day. My mom was completely awestruck by the delicious and trendy tidbits, and considered her benefactor to be the height of contemporary chic.

As part of this story, my mom also described this woman/'s astounding home - the height of mid-century modern architectural design in a custom-built jewel, smack in the middle of this tiny town of sleepy Victorian farmhouses. And in a twist of fate that always blew my mind, the story concludes with  my mother's sister eventually marrying this upscale lady's only son, and in time, moving herself, her husband, and her passel of four children into that very house. 

Every time I visited my aunt and uncle and cousins there, I would try to picture my teenage mom eating her first chocolate chip cookie at the very same dining table where I sat for holiday meals. But that was far more than my imagination could manage, and the story assumed the stuff of great legend in my mind. 

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So thank you, Kellen, for inviting me into the traditions of your family and reminding me of the traditions of my own. Baking and sharing these cookies with you was more satisfying than you ever could have known when you dropped that video onto my timeline. So go ahead and hook me up with another recipe any time; you'll probably get another plate of fresh baked goods, and I'll be rewarded with more fabulous memories.