Oatmeal Candy Cane Cookies

I've been unofficially reprimanded about my blog. Not by the Finca, of course, but by friends. Yes, you. You crazy people out there, with your unlimited access to the internet. I'm trying, I swear!

Having said that, one of the complaints was entirely justified. It was pointed out to me that it might be nice if the kids made it into the posts occasionally. Well said.

Taking that into consideration, first I´m going to explain what a pila is:

A pila is basically the Honduran sink. It has a relatively deep section of standing water on the left for use when we don´t have water (about 30% of the time), and a pana (basically a plastic bowl) with which to draw that water. Because we use this water to watch our dishes, we try and make sure it stays as clean as possible... aka, we don´t put anything besides the pana into it.


Sorry for that random, (not) unrelated diversion. Back to talking about getting kids into posts occasionally, here's a brief tale of some cookies:


The Scene:
The Missionary Household

The Characters:
Cati, age 7
Kimberly, age 9
Kevin #2 (also known as Kevincito or Kevincio), first year (aka inexperienced) missionary, with ganas (aka in the mood) to make his family's traditional Christmas cookies

(this probably sounds much more exiting in my head than it does on paper... I'm envisioning someone reading it in one of those voices from movie trailers)

A thought comes into young Kevin's head. "I'm going to continue the family tradition of making oatmeal candy cane cookies!" Such a simple thought.

Poor guy.

The Sala of the Missionary House, thirty minutes later.

There are now two young Casa Uno girls with Kevin, excited and eager to bake. As Kevin pulls out the supplies, the younger of the two, Cati, allows her eagerness to assist to overwhelm her. While our unsuspecting protagonist´s back is turned, our dear niña begins to spread manteca all over her hands in order to grease the mixing bowl (not explicitly necessary), a process she completes with surprising rapidity.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the uncleanliness of her hands and the recommendation of a surprised Kevin that perhaps she shouldn´t have started yet, she proceeds to the pila (see above if you weren´t paying attention) and dunks her hands into the (previously clean(ish)) water. When kindly albeit hurriedly requested to remove her hands from said location, she promptly complies, choosing instead to take the more sanitary route of grabbing an unclean cup out of the sink side and dunking it (along with her hand) into the pila, in order to obtain water with which to clean her hands.


Again caught unawares, Kevin fails to notice that behind this, Kimberly is managing to spread flour all over places that have no business having any flour spread over them, e.j. the floor, the benches, the table, and last but not least, Kimberly´s face. She also accidentally manages to get a bit into a measuring cup, so our adventurers toss that into the bowl and proceed adelante.

Cue other similar happenings for nearly two hours. Possible topics that might be discussed:

- Kimberly´s complete refusal to attempt to form the mix into bakeable items on the cookie sheets, coupled with Cati´s refusal to make her attempts look anything like candy canes ("Kevin, we´re going to bring the ones that look like candy canes back to Casa Uno. ¡You can have the ones that spell my name!").
- The disappearance of one of Kevin´s helpers and the sudden (coincidental) added ability of the hammock on the front porch to yell at him as he attempted to check on the fire in the outside oven.
- Cati´s assurances that they didn´t need to place a shovel in front of the oven to hold up the door of it, because she could do it herself, something she didn´t always remember she had agreed to do.
- Past missionary-cooking-with-Casa-Uno advice that stipulates the need to travel all the way back to Casa Uno with the girls or risk them arriving at their house with empty plates and perhaps slightly fuller stomachs. To their credit, rumors surrounding the cases of the missing cookies often conclude that they´re liable to give away a substantial number of cookies, not merely eat them all.

Anyway, copies of this book on tape (cause I´m really feeling like the voice with which it is read is key) should be available in stores near you in... shoot, I can´t think of a time period I could pick that would be humorous. Oh well.