by Francine Paino, a.k.a. F. Della Notte

Cookies. Who doesn’t love them?  Far and away, the American favorite is the Chocolate Chip cookie, a creation of the Wakefields of Massachusetts. (More on that later).  Over 53% of American adults prefer Chocolate Chip to other varieties.  But the most popular cookie worldwide, sold in over 100 countries… drum roll, please, is Oreo!  

The popularity of these cookies made me wonder what other fun facts I could find to entertain and inform, so I set out to investigate the origins of these sweet delights. Did you know Oreo is considered the number one copycat cookie? Two brothers, Joseph and Jacob Loose, battled for dominance over the Oreo. It was first produced by Hydrox. (Remember them? Or have I dated myself?) Then, it was baked and sold by the National Biscuit Company, now known as Na-Bis-Co.  See the link below for more information on the Battle of the Oreo.

With this in mind, one might imagine that the earliest origin of cookies began in a Western European country, perhaps in Great Britain, Ireland, or Scotland. It may have begun in one of the Romance Countries. The first was Italy, followed by France and Spain. In fact, the biggest surprise of all is that the cookie dates back to Persia, in the 7th century C.E.

It all began around 550 B.C.E. in the Persian Empire, conquered many times and most famously by Alexander the Great, who defeated Darius III. These luxurious little cakes were well-known, and as Persia evolved into a diverse nation in the Islamic world, its culture spread.  Sugar, which originated in the lowlands of S.E. Asia, was brought to Persia and cultivated there. It then spread through the eastern Mediterranean and into Europe, and bakers created beautiful cakes and pastries—for the wealthy, of course.

 After the Muslim invasion of Iberia in the 8th century, followed by the Crusades and the developing spice trade, cooking techniques and ingredients began to reflect different civilizations, especially the influence of Arabian cuisine. In fact, one of the most treasured desserts of Italy, the Cannoli originated in Sicily and reflected Arabic recipes – but back to the cookie.

According to culinary historians, the cookie’s origin had a more serious purpose. It was, in fact, a test cake. Small amounts of cake batters were dropped onto baking pans to test the temperatures of the ovens. These little cakes were the first crude thermostats used to determine when the fires, fueled by burning wood, were at the correct heat to cook without wrecking the food, and each region or nation developed its own little cakes for this purpose. Eventually, these little test cakes morphed into the dry, hard-textured cookies we know today, and the renaming of these little cakes first appeared in print in the early 18th century.  

Eventually, the cookie came to America via the British Empire, where they were and still are called biscuits. After the Revolutionary War, the newly minted Americans changed the name to further separate themselves from Great Britain. They chose the Dutch variation Koekje/koek, which evolved into the word cookie, but it wasn’t until 1924 that the most beloved of all American cookies was created: the Chocolate Chip.

Ruth Graves Wakefield, before marrying, was a graduate of the Framingham State Normal School Department of Household Arts (at that time not considered a slur or degradation of women). She worked as a dietician and lectured on food. In 1930 Ruth and hubby Kenneth purchased a Cape-Cod style inn, The Toll House, in Massachusetts. Constructed in 1709, the house was a stop-over for travelers in Colonial times where they paid their road toll, changed horses, and dined. Under the Wakefield’s ownership, the Toll House served traditional Colonial fare, and Ruth’s homemade desserts were quite popular. One day, in 1937, she discovered she didn’t have the baker’s chocolate required for her brown sugar cookies. Instead, she chopped a bar of Nestle’s Semi-Sweet Chocolate into tiny pieces, believing that adding them to the dough and baking would melt them, but the chocolate held its shape and softened to a creamy texture. The new cookie became very popular at the inn, and Ruth’s recipe was published in newspapers throughout New England, skyrocketing the sale of Nestle’s Semi-Sweet Chocolate Bars. Thus was born the Chocolate Chip Cookie. And there you have the basics of the origin of cookies. But what you might ask, has this to do with mysteries besides the secrets of various bakers and recipes?

Cookies, I have found, are not only popular desserts and treats; they play an essential and often intriguing role in many culinary mysteries, especially the cozies.  I logged onto Goodreads and searched mystery books with the word cookie in the title. I was intrigued to find 18+ pages, 20 titles to a page, representing approximately 360  books, excluding cookbooks and children’s books. And that was only on Goodreads. Some of the titles I found brought a smile to my face. In the interests of full disclosure, I haven’t read any of them, but among my favorite titles were A Tale of Two Cookies, And Then There Were Crumbs, Misfortune Cookie, Tough Cookie, and Murder of a Smart Cookie.  

Many authors of cozies and some traditional mysteries weave the art of cooking and baking into their stories. In the Housekeeper Mystery Series, set primarily in Austin, Texas, Mrs. B., a fine cook, keeps the priests of St. Francis de Sales supplied with her home-baked Italian Lemon Drop Cookies (Anginetti), while she and the pastor, Father Melvyn, help solve crimes and find answers.  For cookie enthusiasts, I’m happy to share my favorite Lemon Drop Cookie recipe. See the link below.  

Meanwhile, happy munching and happy reading.   

http://www.thenibble.com/reviews/main/cookies/cookies2/cookie-history2.asp

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/undertheinfluence/the-best-selling-cookie-in-the-world-is-a-copycat-brand-1.7080582#:~:text=Oreo%20was%20priced%20cheaper%2C%20and,Joseph%20had%20the%20bigger%20company.

https://cookingwithgracedotnet.wordpress.com/2013/09/21/anginetti-italian-lemon-drop-cookies/

Francine Paino, a.k.a. F. Della Notte

The long, dreamy days of summer are upon us – some places hotter than others, but summer all the same.  Along with daylight for twelve-plus hours to enjoy beaches, sand, and vacations from work and school, we are blessed with a profusion of herbs to flavor our food and our lives.

In archeology, evidence indicates the use of medicinal plants dates back to the Paleolithic age, approximately 60,000 years ago, and written information dates 5,000 years to the Sumerians, who compiled lists of plants and uses. It is no wonder that herbs flavor our foods and, through the centuries, has been used in medicines, and magic spells. Most people associate herbs in witchcraft with poisons, but even the herbs most commonly used in cooking have fun lore surrounding them, and summer is when we enjoy them in abundance and freshly picked.

There’s nothing sweeter than a bright, lush Basil plant. Its leafy growth gives off an aroma that is slightly sweet, clove-like, and peppery. It’s also described as giving hints of mint and anise. Basil is one of the few herbs that can be enjoyed raw. One of my favorites is the Caprese Salad, where its peppery flavor enhances sliced tomato, mozzarella, and olive oil. 

Basil has far-reaching, ancient folklore. With over 5,000 different varieties, ranging from Thai to Genovese, Basil is one of the most popular herbs in the world. In Hinduism, it is considered sacred. In India, it’s also regarded as holy and used to ward off evil. In Ancient Egypt, Basil was used in the mummification process because of its antibacterial properties. It didn’t, however, protect Lord Carnarvon.

Other than culinary and religious books, I haven’t found any fun fiction involving Basil in stories, other than Basil, the Great Mouse Detective. The same goes for what’s become known as the “pizza herb.”  

Oregano has a piney, peppery, sharp flavor with menthol and lemon undertones. Depending on the conditions in which it’s grown, it can have a warm, slightly sour, and spicy taste, and it lends its flavors to meats and sauces. Personally, this cook favors the Greek Oregano over the Italian—believe it or not!

It is reported that Oregano has been used in magic spells, and brings good fortune and protection. Some believe that growing Oregano near your home can protect you from evil.  Kept near you while sleeping, it may aid in visions and psychic dreams.  – I’ll pass on that one.

In herbal lore, Oregano is said to promote good fortune and was used as an antidote to poisons, treating convulsions and skin irritations. “In Shakespearian time, it was thought to cure overdoses of opium and hemlock.”  Whether or not any of that is true, herbalists still recommend it for its antibacterial properties.

Have you ever munched on Parsley? Try it sometime. Fresh and clean, it’s a good palate cleanser. It’s uplifting, chopped into soups, stews, and sauces, from Tabbouleh to Gremolata. I particularly enjoy its piney taste mixed with ricotta cheese prepared for lasagna. High in vitamins C, A, and K, iron, and folic acid, it has incredible health benefits on the spectrum of ancient uses.

In the spirit world, sprinkling chopped Parsley over your food would  help protect you from low-level spirits. Here’s an exciting find. “Ancient Greeks associated Parsley with Achromous, the Herald of Death, and covered their tombs with wreaths of it.” “Superstition held that only pregnant women or witches could grow Parsley.” Happily, that cultural restriction is long gone. You will find uses for Parsley in any cookbook, from domestic to foreign recipes, and Tamar Myers’s Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Crime series may entertain you.  

Among my favorite herbs is Rosemary. This herb, with its woodsy flavor and subtle tones of pepper, lemon, and mint, is powerful, both in cooking and in magic. Adding a little is more than enough to enhance the flavors of chicken and roasts. Rosemary’s scent is described as pungent, astringent, somewhat similar to Eucalyptus or camphor. I liken it to pine.

Ancient uses and beliefs were that it strengthened memory. In literature and folklore it was a sign of remembrance and faithfulness. The power of Rosemary doesn’t stop in the cooking pots.

In fiction, it is mentioned in the movie Practical Magic—“plant it outside your front door for good luck.” Hang bundles to keep harmful people, like burglars, from entering. I have Rosemary beside my front door walkway and outside my kitchen door, but I don’t suppose I can leave either door unlocked.

In literature, Rosemary is a popular name, and there is the Jane Louise Curry mystery series, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme. Moving along, the next herb to season our foods and entertain us is Sage.

Stroking the soft, furry Sage leaf reminds me of stroking my cat’s soft, shiny fur. Sage doesn’t smell like any animal I’ve ever petted. It’s complex and multi-layered, with both herbal and earthy notes. Described as warm and woody, it hints of camphor and eucalyptus. I find Sage is especially effective in brightening the flavors of gamey, earthy meats like lamb.

“Sage was recognized as an herbal remedy in ancient Greece and Rome, as well as in Native American and Chinese medicine.” According to the Naturally Modern Witch’s website, Sage impacts balance, business clairvoyance, comfort, concentration, focus, consciousness, gratitude, harmony, insights, mental clarity, money, and wisdom.  That’s a lot of power for one leaf!

I’ve found Sage mentioned in fiction on a list of cozy mystery and witchy books.  Again, we can look to the Amish Mystery Series by Tamar Myers to find Sage referenced in multiple roles.

Thyme. The smell of spring. I have a large pot growing  a verdant Thyme planted outside my kitchen door. One of my pleasures is to cut a bouquet and before storing it in the fridge or freezer, bury my nose in it and inhale its beautiful, fresh, floral scent with hints of Rosemary, lemon, and grass. Close your eyes and breathe in its scent on dark, dreary days, and you’re transported to a summer field with clear blue skies and crisp air. I am happy to report that this morning I opened a plastic bag of Thyme in my veggie compartment, and the fragrance is almost as strong as when I cut it weeks ago.

Thyme’s medicinal properties have been relied upon for thousands of years. In ancient Egypt, its antimicrobial properties made it essential in embalming. The Romans thought it brought strength and courage and used it in bathhouses to purify body and mind. It was relied upon in ancient Greece for its antiseptic powers and was often used to treat battle wounds.

Thyme has a strong herbal flavor, somewhat like lavender or Rosemary, and gives dishes a minty flavor—a little sweet and a little peppery. Its flavoring works for all types of meats and fish, and it’s great in vegetable soups, and stocks. . It can withstand long cooking times, so it can be added early to infuse dishes with its flavor Another interesting fact is that Thyme is often used in Cajun and Creole cooking, because it was easily available to the earliest settlers in Louisiana, who incorporated it into their cooking.

I’ve found a new fun book, with Thyme. Susan Wittig Albert’s mystery, Thyme of Death. It takes place in a small Texas town where an attorney leaves his law practice to open an herb shop and becomes involved in the first China Bayles Mystery.

All of these fascinating stories and facts about herbs are fun, but the true magic of herbs, even beyond the ones I’ve mentioned, is while often described with the same adjectives once they’re added to food, they add layers of flavors to any dish and are easily distinguishable.

So, happy summer, happy reading, and happy eating herb-infused foods.

References:

https://universalium.en-academic.com/188866/Rosemary

https://bronchostop.com/our-herbal-ingredients/what-is-sage.html

https://hort.extension.wisc.edu/articles/parsley-petroselinum-crispum/

https://foodprint.org/real-food/rosemary-and-thyme/#:~:text=According%20to%20%E2%80%9CThe%20Spice%20Lover’s,settlement%20of%20the%20Louisiana%20territory.

My Grandfather’s Cherry Tree

By Francine Paino, AKA F. Della Notte

A 2010 study published in The American Journal of Psychology found that “memories associated with smells were not necessarily more accurate, but tended to be emotionally more evocative.” How true!

From my office window in Austin, Texas, I look at the magnolia blossoms on the tree in front of my house. Pretty and pink, the blossoms are at the top of the tree. Too high up for me to reach and cut, I still enjoy their lovely fragrance when they fall to the ground. And that scent transports me 1,500 miles northeast and more than half a century past, with images of my grandfather’s cherry tree—a key to the portal unlocking memories of my life in an immigrant community.  

My grandfather’s cherry tree didn’t grow, surrounded by green hills and grass. It grew in a crowded Italian ghetto: a city within a city. Corona, New York. Here, cement sidewalks and concrete streets only allowed for narrow curb strips of weeds in front of houses, separated by narrow alleys. Few residences had any space to speak of; my  grandfather’s house was one.

Now, when I remember and look at pictures, I wonder how he dealt with the adjustment going from the grinding poverty of Sassano, Italy, surrounded by gently rolling hills, farms, trees, and greenery, to a somewhat better existence but encased in hard, cold, and grey surfaces. It’s a question I never did ask. I suppose his poverty-stricken but agrarian roots wouldn’t allow his small piece of the stark, utilitarian landscape to remain solid pavements of grey without a trace of nature. But back to the Cherry Tree.  

Planted in a small patch of dirt in his yard, surrounded by cement, my grandfather’s cherry tree grew straight and tall. Its round trunk was encased in bark that looked so dark it could have been black. It gave off a sweet fragrance in early June, only perceptible in the early mornings before the smells of car exhaust, trash, vent fumes, and the brick, mortar, and wood from the close-together homes crowded it out. Once spring arrived, windows were kept open, and the aroma of cooking wafted out, joining the profusion of smells that swept the neighborhood. As sweet as the tree’s fragrance was, its fruit was mainly sour and enjoyed by the birds more than the family.

According to the charts, cherry trees in the northeast had and still have edible fruits by the third week of June, and I recall birds pecking at them and dropping some of the ripened cherries into the cement yard. My grandmother would sweep them up fast, lest they get under our shoes and dirty her faded but clean linoleum floor. However, the cherry tree’s memories do not stop there. Like tendrils on a vine, places, events, and smells latch on to the Prunus Serotina.

In New York City, public schools in the 1950s were let out by the middle of June. That meant I could help my grandfather tend his little farm two blocks from the house, nestled between dilapidated houses on either side of the property and protected by an eight-foot tall chain link fence that ran the perimeter of the entire lot. The land in his little enclosure always smelled earthy. He’d fertilized it before the planting began. There were rows of corn, cabbage, zucchini, and Swiss Chard. There was an area dedicated to lettuce. The corn always had a slightly sweet and earthy odor. I have no recollection of smelling the growing cabbages or zucchini. Still, when I sauté garlic, I often recall Grandmother doing the same, then frying thick slices of zucchini and smothering them in a rich marinara sauce to finish cooking.

Perhaps my favorite olfactory memory is the fragrances from the herb garden. The lemony aroma of thyme is still one of my favorites, as are the peppery scent of oregano and the sweet, refreshing smell of basil. My grandfather would smile when he handed me a full bouquet of basil. Maybe he already knew the beneficial effects of basil when I’d bury my nose in it and breathe deep before walking back the three crowded city streets to the house with the cherry tree.

As a child raised in this hybrid environment, half city life, half farm life, I took these scents for granted. Didn’t everyone have them?

I’m amazed about how much smell has gained scientific support for its impact on different areas of life, besides memories of days gone by. Scientists at Brown University looked at 18 studies about aromachology. They found that smelling lavender can indeed relax you, make you less stressed, and even help you awaken more rested. Researchers examined studies about other scents like rosemary, peppermint, and orange. They propose that rosemary may help you sleep better, improve memory, and help with hair growth. Peppermint might boost physical performance, and the smell of oranges can reduce anxiety and help you feel more content or happier. Of course, more research is needed, If nothing else, taking the time to enjoy the fragrances is already a step in slowing down and smelling the roses – in this case the aromatic plants.   

When discussing memory stimulants and other benefits of scents, coffee, while not an herb, cannot be left out of the conversation. Scientists would have us smell the coffee to wake up, reporting that the aroma alone of my preferred caffeine brew would awaken us. That can work, but I’ll continue drinking the coffee after its perfume fills my kitchen. Then I’ll smell everything else.

Enjoy!

https://www.bridgeportct.gov/news/whats-smell-it-might-improve-your-memory#:~:text=The%20researchers%20also%20looked%20at,push%2Dups%20or%20running%20faster.

https://www.brownalumnimagazine.com/articles/2008-03-26/scents-sensibility

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5198031/

https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/rosemary-oil-benefits

https://www.livescience.com/2614-whiff-coffee-wake.html