Desserts · By James

Aunt Annie's Peppermint Cookies

Aunt Annie was a second mother to me growing up, her son Jim being my closest cousin and friend. Jim and I were born a day apart, given the same name by the two sisters who were our mothers, and we often spent summers and winter holidays together challenging our world. We rode and crashed dirt bikes, roamed freely through the Edmonton Klondike Days, took the wildest rollercoaster ride in NA at that time inside the West Edmonton Mall, raced and crashed snowmobiles, flew planes (Jim got his pilot's license when he was 19), and fell off a roof working as summer help for Jim's dad (my Uncle Nick). Generally a good time was had, with a few close calls. And, always we came home to Aunt Annie's embracing care and wonderful cooking (when our adventures were in Edmonton). Later, in our early 20s, Jim and I roomed together at the Mennonite College, the year I met Sharon there. He worked with my ecumenism committee the next year, came over for home-cooked meals in our rented rooms by the Red River, and was a dear friend to us in those early years of college life. He and Sharon loved to joke, and we laughed till our sides ached. Aunt Annie was arguably as good a cook as Mom, and that is saying something. She was less adventurous, but the traditional Mennonite food she made was the best. Her chicken soup, made with a whole chicken, and liberally laced with her own homemade egg noodles, was legendary in the family. When Sharon and I were living in Paddle Prairie for our first year of teaching (1985/86), we would regularly escape the cold and lonely north, staying with Aunt Annie and Uncle Nick in Edmonton — we laughed a lot, and ate very well. One of the constants in Annie and Nick's home was an ice-cream pail full of her ammonia cookies, soft and sharply pepperminty! They were always a favorite of mine, and of many others, and she would send a container of them with us each time we left. Once she sent us a parcel of them in the mail, along with the recipe in her spidery writing (I'd asked for it, wanting to preserve this old-world Mennonite cooking). The baking ammonia being used as a leavener in these cookies (with the sour cream and buttermilk activating it) was an old world thing for Mennonites and others, before baking powder and baking soda became common in the late 19th century. It is still used today by some traditional bakers, and can be found in some stores. Joc, in particular, developed a love of the cookies, although Cam wasn't far behind. Joc and I made them once when she was in university. I'm feeling the need to make them again.