We have cookies on the dessert menu cause a buncha you complained that six dollars is too much to pay for dessert (not true, but hey) or the desserts themselves are too big, heavy, rich (perhaps true of … half the menu, but not the pies, no way the pies). Jimmy and I thought a plate of three cookies at four bucks a plate might be a nice way to go. It’s not like we’re out very much. A coupla dozen cookies a day, and ‘When they’re gone, they’re gone.’ Worst case scenario, we don’t sell a single cookie, and that’s … ten bucks out the door? That’s no skin off anyone’s nose. It’s a no-lose, and a way to show we do listen to what you have to say. (Also, we thought maybe you’d shut the hell up about it and be happy for once.)

And yet.

One of you says you can get a whole box of cookies at the store for three bucks. Another is of the opinion that the cookies could be larger or cheaper. Another is dead certain we do not make them. That in fact, we bring them in. You claim to have seen boxes of the cookies coming off the Sysco truck. (I don’t know what to say to that. Twice a week, Monday and Friday, I make cookies. If you wanna come here at ten in the morning to make cookies with me, hey, knock yourself out. Though be warned: I’m grumpy as shit in the mornings.)

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the whole contingent of you that is simply dissatisfied with the selection. You don’t like that you only have one kind of cookie from which to choose. I mean, what the hell’re we sposed to do, have a bunch of different kinds? We’re sposed to be like a bakery and have an assortment from which to choose? Hell no. No way. Uh-uh. You get one choice and that choice is whatever cookie we have that day. (Full list at bottom.)

We have one kinda pie, one kinda custard, one kinda cheesecake, one kinda sundae and … well, we have three different kindsa cakes, but cakes’re a category unto themselves. Besides the cakes, why should cookies be any different.

Seriously. I want to know.

Then, there’s those of you who think that you can negotiate. You want one cookie for a dollar thirty-three or four cookies (to share with your friend) for five thirty-three. You never say anything bout half a slice of pie for three bucks, or a slice and a half for nine. You can’t negotiate any other dessert, so why cookies is beyond me.

No negotiating. The cookie price is what it is, and the selection is what it is. Think of it this way: “Today’s cookies (3), $4. Ask your server” is the same thing as “Today’s soup. $4/cup, $5/bowl. Ask your server.” It’s the exact same thing, only with cookies instead of soup. None of you ever try to get tomorrow’s soup tonight, or yesterday’s soup tonight, or any other night’s soup tonight. No. If you hear the soups and you don’t like the soups you hear, you get the salad. Cookies should be the same way. Except not a salad. Another dessert.

It’s like you think the cookies option is the only one that’s not a value, and I have no idea how you woulda got that cockamamie notion in your head. Believe you me, if you get the ice cream sundae, you’re getting ripped off exactly the same. Likewise, the pies, cakes and custards. We rip you off exactly the same for all the desserts, so why harp on cookies?

We’re beginning to wonder if all the grief and guff is worth it. You know what I did when I got here this morning? Made cookies for the weekend. You know what that meant? A couple hours and a few batches. You know what a pain in the ass it sometimes is, making cookies in the morning? A big huge goddamn one.

I don’t complain though. Cause they’re good. I’m proud of precious little round here (crock pots, antipasto, beer, and … well, that’s pretty much it), but by god, I am proud of the cookies. We have the list taped up near the mixer, so we know what cookies to make when we make cookies. Next to the column is a month calendar, so we know what cookies we made and when we made ‘em. Here you go. Here’s the list.

Shortbread

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip

Oatmeal Walnut Sour Cherry (Or Scotchies)

Molasses Spice

Old-Fashioned Sugar

Strawberry Gems (My mom’s recipe, only she uses raspberry, but raspberry’s gross, so … strawberry it is.)

Ginger Snap Lemon Crème Sandwich

***

P.S. Jimmy’s got an idea that he’s working all the kinks outta, and that’s to throw a fortune cookie into the rotation. Just as soon’s he figures out how to make it feasible, it’ll get its very own day.

P.P.S. The main kink is how the fuck do you make a fortune cookie?

P.P.P.S. Cause I don’t know and neither does he, and the stumbling block is how do you get it folded over and with the paper inside. I’m not dicking around with folding cookies over once I get the paper stuck in. No way. Neither’s he. So …

P.P.P.P.S. So what we’ll prolly do is like an almond cookie, those crunchy ones you get in any Chinatown, then figure out how to either fold the cookie over the slip of paper or stick a folded up fortune to the cookie with … I dunno, glaze, I guess. But then the question becomes what do the fortunes entail. He, being as Jimmy as ever, wants ‘em to be coupons.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I want the fortunes to be random things we say round here. Things that’ll puzzle the hell outta whoever gets the fortune. Things like “No Gots!” which means we’re outta whatever was just requested. Or “Here comes Tony Toolbox,” which means a guy just walked in who doesn’t know diddly-squat about anything even though he thinks he does bout everything. Or “Boom-boom in the zoom-zoom,” which means someone just made the bathroom smell bad.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. He’ll talk me out of it, and we’ll wind up with coupons for fortunes. Five bucks off, or half off an appetizer or bring your friend and your friend eats for a little bit less. And he’ll be right to talk me out of it. Puzzling fortunes will only … puzzle you and you don’t want to be puzzled at dessert. Not when you’ve been puzzled all through dinner.