Fiacré's spade: Cookies, Chicago, Snow

Jane came up on Sunday to make Christmas cookies with me. We used to make lots of different cookies, but we’ve had to cut down. Since retirement, we have limited opportunities for calorie sharing. Sugar cookies are de rigueur. People love my sugar cookies. I don’t know why. They don’t have any chocolate, so in my book they are NWC (not worth the calories). Christmas, however, is a time for service to others, so I make the sugar cookies. I roll and cut; Jane frosts. You may recall that we gave up piping last year. It’s fussy and time-consuming. Besides, it doesn’t even look good after the cookies are stacked in wax paper.

Jane frosts cookies

I make chocolate sugar cookies for me. I cut them in the shape of Christmas bison because bison are more structurally sound than those wussie reindeer with their skinny legs and fragile antlers. Try as I might, reindeer end up all bald-headed paraplegics.

Cutting out the Christmas bison

Sugar cookies and chocolate sugar cookies--too many for three people?

We also love caramel pecan bars. After many years of sometimes disastrous experimenting with making caramel, we finally found a recipe that just puts everything in a pan to caramelize in the oven. Much, much less nerve-wracking.

Caramel pecan bars

Due to a bad case of nostalgia, I made peanut brittle for the first time since I was a child. Part of my motivation was using up some languishing peanuts. I didn’t read the directions carefully enough, however. I thought it said “roasted” peanuts when in fact it said, “unroasted.” By the time I had the goo to the hard crack stage, the peanuts were just shy of incinerated. Even so, I’m not having any trouble eating the brittle.

Peanut brittle

Monday was a warm, dry day. Terry and I took our annual trip to Chicago. We had beer and brats and Christkindl Market for lunch, sharing our stand-up table with several other people who came and went. Terry bought a few things from the vendors. I did not. I have enough stuff. The place was packed. On a Monday! Before the kids were out of school! I enjoyed people-watching while Terry shopped.

We did a quick, uneventful tour of the store formerly known as Marshall Field (now Macy). We didn’t try to go up to look at the tree in the Walnut Room. They have closed the observation area on the floor above the dining room. It’s not the same trying to view the tree from the periphery of people having their lunch. I sound curmudgeonly, don’t I?

Next we went to Millennium Park. We watched the Zamboni driver finish grooming the ice rink before heading up to the next level. A guy was power washing the stairs. Terry remarked that it was a nice day for it, warm and not too windy. We did not challenge him but walked to the next stairway, which looked like it had already been washed. The paving around the Bean (officially known as “Wind Gate”) is done, and we were free to walk right up to the sculpture. There was too much humidity underneath the bean to seen any reflections.

The Bean--We're in the center. I have tan pants, Terry has orange gloves

We walked south as far as the Art Institute then walked back through the plaza that is a splash pad in the heat of summer. The videos of the giant faces were on. Everyone was taking selfies, so I felt we should follow the protocol.

Selfie by the giant face

Back at the ice rink, would-be skaters were crammed on a long bench looking like they could not get their skates on fast enough.

Skaters lacing up their skates

We walked north on Michigan Ave. all the way to the Hancock. As we passed Water Tower Place, I noticed that American Girl is still doing a good business. There were girls with dolls all over the place.

We didn’t go into the Hancock building to see if the Signature Lounge had re-opened. It wasn’t a good day to see the city from the 96^th floor anyway. Terry wanted to have a beer at the Cheesecake Factory, which is on the bottom, semisubterranean floor of the Hancock. The décor make us feel like we had entered Middle Earth, or perhaps the inside of a mushroom. The ceiling was made of giant bulbous, curving surfaces of copper. It’s hard to describe. The bartender got us our beers and asked if we’d like bread and butter. I don’t think I’ve ever refused that. I noticed that there were handle-like structures under the bar that looked like snakes. I peeked under the bar and saw that there were cobras aimed at our crotches. Creepy!

One of dozens of cobras below the bar

Terry insisted I see the restrooms. We didn’t compare notes, but the women’s room had individual stalls with toilet and sink. The sink looked like an upside-down stainless gnome hat. So strange.

We walked a different way back to the train station, arriving just in time to figure out how the ticket vending machines worked and make the 3:45 home. It was a fun day.

This morning, we woke to an inch of snow. The sunrise was beautiful.