It’s one of those cherished recipes comprised of memories. I remember being small, and helping to roll the dough that mom had made into small balls, which would then be covered in lovely granulated sugar and put on a pan.
I remember her showing me how to space the cookies so that they would be the right distance from each other. Three. Two. Three. Two.
I remember the smell of molasses, waiting for a taste of the bittersweet syrup. It’s kind of addictive – have you ever noticed? It’s richer than it’s more-refined cousin, sugar, but heavier.
Today was the first time I’d made them by myself. It was a simple recipe, but adapting it to different food allergies within the family was both interesting and rewarding.
They turned out just as I remembered them – sweet bursts of gingery flavor that leave a tang on your lips. Perfect for fall.
It’s a ginger snap kind of day, wouldn’t you agree?
Farmgirl Writes 
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