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Cookies.

The soft but brisk home made warm cookies are the best thing to eat or rather dunk in milk, tea and coffee.

When Ma makes it at home, I simply feel that heaven is on earth. When she takes it out of the oven , wearing those big fat oven gloves and holding the tray in her right hand, I break out into a cookie dance, i.e. a dance which I only do when I see those warm, hot,fuzzy and sizzling brown or dark brown cookies and sometimes Ma makes them gooey and I simply love those.She puts a bit of caramel inside it and when I bite into those caramel cookies, my mouth goes on eating, enjoying and relishing every last bit and crumb of them.

One day I was feeling tired, so I laid to down to take a nap.About twenty minutes later, in my semi-sleep, I started smelling something that smelled like hot and warm home made cookies. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but the smell started getting more stronger and stronger and in an instant with the speed greater than that of a mach jet, I got out of bed and rushed into the kitchen. It confirmed my suspicion.Ma had made cookies in her oven and now I was going to have them with a glass of milk and believe it or not that whole tray of cookies would be over by the next morning and evening.

I have tasted cookies in the bakeries, pastry shops and malls, but I find them all to have been made too much professionally.

A cookie, made by Ma is something altogether different.

Those caramel cookies and the fruit and nut cookies which she makes are simply delicious to eat and before a whole day passes away, I always find that the whole tin of cookies have simply vanished into the thin air, by my courtesy, as and while having them, I don’t keep a track of them, but when tin becomes completely empty, it feels like, “what happened to those cookies and where did they disappear”?

 

baking basket book bottle

 

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