Doodle-ee-doo

It started small.  I thought I could control it.  But when I began dreaming about them, I was a bit concerned.  Eventually I had to admit I was having an insatiable craving, the kind that won’t stop until you do something about it.  I wanted – I needed – a cookie and not just any kind of cookie… it had to be a Snickerdoodle.

This desire came out of the blue.  I probably hadn’t had a Snickerdoodle for 10 years, but this was an undeniable longing.  And it wasn’t any ole’ Snickerdoodle, it had to be one that was crunchy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside and just the right mix of cinnamon and sugar… just like my Uncle Sam used to make for me when I was a kid.  It was the only non-chocolate treat I wanted.

I spotted a few imposters sitting on the bakery shelves.  They didn’t look right – too big (I like the smaller, pop in your mouth, size), not enough cinnamon, too crunchy and too uniformly shaped (they just didn’t look natural).  I wasn’t going to get the instant gratification I was looking for (I admit, it is what happens to women of my age).  Having worked myself into a frenzy (ice cream also does this to me) over these tasty tidbits, I conceded that I was going to have to make my own Snickerdoodles (yea! more for me!).

My Uncle Sam, 80 years young, is as good of a down-home, “stick to your ribs” cook, as you will ever find.  I admire this man.  He can make the meanest pot roast (with his home-grown potatoes and carrots) that side of the Mississippi.  He whips up countless batches of peanut brittle (100 plus pounds of peanuts, a season, goes toward this Lancaster, Ohio county fair grand prize winner, 8 years running – he didn’t enter until he was 72.  He has a corn bread recipe that will knock your socks off.  Can make over 50 types of cookies by memory and cans his own jams, fruits and vegetables.  I telephone him and after 35 minutes of chitchat, I work myself into asking him for his Snickerdoodle recipe.  He hesitates, he ponders, he slowly agrees, on one condition – that I follow his “secret” to the recipe.  Of course! I would have danced the conga and wore fruit on my head along Main Street if I had to.

This was a huge honor to have Uncle Sam entrust me with one of his delicacies.  I made a commitment with myself that I will travel to see Uncle Sam to chronicle his life and his recipes.  I was fortunate enough to be given all of my mom’s cooking and baking notes, recipes, procedures and techniques – I remember her each and every time I use one of them.  Having Uncle Sam’s recipes would be icing (wonder if he has a good recipe for that?) on the cake.
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Because I think everyone needs an Uncle Sam, I am willing to share mine with you… including his top-secret recipe for Snickerdoodles.  This is the secret… make the dough, cover and refrigerate overnight. 

Uncle Sam’s Snickerdoodles
• 2¾ cups (3 cups for high altitude) flour
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 2 teaspoons cream of tartar
• 2 sticks butter, softened (my secret is that I use 1 cup Crisco, butter flavored instead of the butter – add 2 teaspoons water if you decide to go with the Crisco)
• 1½ cups sugar
• 2 eggs

Mix all ingredients and store, covered, in the refrigerator overnight.  Take out in morning, preheat oven to 375°.  Make small balls (about the size of a large gumball) with your hands and roll in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar (to taste, but I usually put one tablespoon cinnamon with one cup of sugar – mix well – and keep in a small container ready to be used in a cinnamon toast fervor, a streusel sensation, or other emergency one may experience) – place on ungreased cookie sheet and bake for 8-9 minutes.  Let cool on the cookie sheet then transfer to airtight container.  Can be frozen for future and indisputable cravings.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-