In an attempt to get my ganglia in order, I’ve started replicating the conditions in my apartment at Julie’s and G’s, namely plenty of cookbooks at the ready. Ten minutes ago, totally at a loss for what to do or say next, I found Julie’s copy of Maida Heatter’s Cookies (Andrews & McMeel, 1997). Knowing that Maida is always good for what ails a girl, not just because she’s a peerless baker but because she also manifests teenager levels of enthusiasm for it, I opened the book to her introduction, titled simply, “Bake Cookies!”, and found this:
A few days ago I heard a doctor talking on television about the dangers of stress. It can kill you. It can cause a heart attack or stroke. The doctor listed ways of coping with street. Exercise. Diet. Yoga. Take a walk. I yelled, “Bake cookies.” I often talk to the television. I yelled it again and again. The doctor went on with his list of 12 ways to reduce stress...and he never once mentioned my sure-fire treatment.
Baking cookies is a great escape. It’s fun. It’s happiness. It’s creative. It’s good for your health. It reduces stress.
If you are reading this book, chances are you know what I mean. You have probably baked cookies. You could probably tell me a thing or two about what fun it is. But if you have not baked cookies, then let me tell you. Bake cookies! Happiness is baking cookies.
Oh, absolutely. 