Cookies first, of course

Susie decided to make an American meal for her host family one Sunday evening. She carefully planned the menu. Sloppy Joes on French bread, chips, cucumbers, quartered oranges and chocolate chip cookies.

The afternoon was stifling hot—104 degrees. The front porch was the designated cooking area.  And so the preparation began.

Cookies first, Susie says. But she had an idea that the ingredients just might present a little challenge.

OK, no brown sugar—no problem. Just substitute white.

No vanilla. Well, the package said “Vanilla Sugar.” That would have to do.

At this point, Susie employed the help of a few nearby girls to soften what appeared to be butter. They were glad to help.

Next, the eggs. She cracked them on the edge of a separate bowl “like I had been taught in missionary training—in case they were bad.”

Turns out they weren’t bad. But they were hard-boiled. “I guess I had bought two hard-boiled eggs,” Susie says. She hurried off to the boutique to try again on the egg purchase.

Success! Two fresh, good eggs.

OK, next ingredient—but, no, there was no baking soda to be found. Susie emailed home and got the OK to substitute baking powder. “Good to know!” Susie comments.

The last ingredient was the precious bag of chocolate chips she had brought from the USA.

“Remember,” Susie writes, “we’re making these cookies outside and it’s 104 degrees. Yup, they started to melt. They were more chocolate kind-of chip cookies.”

Her host family does have an oven, but Susie was not at all sure how to light it. This meant taking a break until her host mom got up from her nap.

“There was no temperature gauge on the oven and I had no idea how hot it was. I also had no clock or timer.”

When Susie checked the cookies to see if they were done, she noticed a lizard in the bottom of the oven. Baked, of course. It would have to stay for now.

About that time, she was told to hurry with the baking because she was using too much gas.

Susie spread the remaining cookie dough in a cake pan and the rest of the cookies became bars. She calls them “chocolate kind-of chip cookie bars.”

“Close enough,” Susie says. “And it was rather a nice feeling—like I was a useful member of society. After all, I was the only one in the group who knew the recipe.”

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