Fall Break Baking Lesson

An Unfortunate Cookie

Making fortune cookies can now be checked off my life list. It should never have been on there in the first place. Life lists should include hang-gliding and skiing in the Alps and being the first to get to the bathroom on a Sunday morning.
I had a modest life list that was so unexciting I've forgotten most of it. Ah, the beauty of getting old. Whatever you really, really want you eventually forget, and you're content anyway.
For instance, I really, really wanted a - well - it was some kind of car, I forget now. When I lose the car at Walmart, it's extra hard to find when I forget what kind it is. Awhile back I lost a rental car in a multi-level parking garage. I remembered it was black, so I peeked in every  black car window hoping to see the identifying banana peel I'd left on the passenger seat. A kindly security guard offered to help me find my banana peel and we wiggled through four floors of cars before I found it. The guard even escorted me out of the garage. How sweet. Maybe he thought I couldn't find the exit. Like that would ever happen.
So yesterday, a couple of grandchildren helped me make fortune cookies. In retrospect, I'd have been better at teaching them to install a water heater. The cookies turned out as big as dinner plates and never got crisp. They were soft and rubbery, so we put them under the couch legs to prevent scratching the floor.
The worst of it is, I wanted to honor the Chinese genius who invented the fortune cookie, and it turns out they were invented by the Japanese. Seriously. I'm as deflated as our cookies.