Written by : Eja Sharma
For nearly a year the world has spiraled. Wildfires from one continent to another. Riots in the streets. Folks locked in their homes. Folks losing work. Folks navigating the wretched turn of the decade. And in the midst of a tumultuous year, her father declares that he is now vegan.
She discusses the dietary revolution with her mother one night, as they begin to determine new recipes and dinners. The two pace about the kitchen, a soap opera playing softly in the background as she attempts to reconcile her love for all things butter with her father’s choice to give it all up. Her father trudges down the stairs, dressed in uniform, off to another night on shift. He looks tired.
Time passes. Her mother buys supplements and begins curating recipes. The world keeps on spinning around that great fireball stationed someplace in the galaxy. She and her brothers attend classes. Her mother works. Her father works. At night, when everyone is free, they sit together and comment on whatever film or show is playing across the television screen.
One night, while doing just so, she begins to get antsy. She gets this way sometimes, and so she stands and begins circling the kitchen, from pantry to fridge, back to the pantry once more. Eventually she tires and perches on a stool at the island and browses the internet for something sweet that she can bake. She pauses every now and then as her attention drifts to the television screen.
She begins her ingredient selection, checking thrice before settling in to begin. She pulls certain pieces from three separate sets of measuring cups, for there isn’t a full set left. An old hand mixer and bowls of varying sets. And so it begins. The crackle of not-quite-butter in the microwave. Grains of sugar stuck to her forearms. A spillage of flour. A growing ache in her wrist as she battles for control of the mixer with the devilishly thick dough of her own making.
She rolls the dough and then rolls each ball in sugar. The counters are coated with elements akin to a crime scene applied to the unmastered art of baking. She, the culprit, causing a stir all to see her mother and father smile.
When the baking is finished and the kitchen is clean, she serves the cookies to her folks and brothers. Her goal realized, she cuddles up proudly beside her mother and watches the show, the scent of cinnamon and ginger wafting towards them.
For nearly a year the world has spiraled. Wildfires from one continent to another. Riots in the streets. Folks locked in their homes. Folks losing work. Folks navigating the wretched turn of the decade. And in the midst of a tumultuous year, her father declares that he is now vegan.
She discusses the dietary revolution with her mother one night, as they begin to determine new recipes and dinners. The two pace about the kitchen, a soap opera playing softly in the background as she attempts to reconcile her love for all things butter with her father’s choice to give it all up. Her father trudges down the stairs, dressed in uniform, off to another night on shift. He looks tired.
Time passes. Her mother buys supplements and begins curating recipes. The world keeps on spinning around that great fireball stationed someplace in the galaxy. She and her brothers attend classes. Her mother works. Her father works. At night, when everyone is free, they sit together and comment on whatever film or show is playing across the television screen.
One night, while doing just so, she begins to get antsy. She gets this way sometimes, and so she stands and begins circling the kitchen, from pantry to fridge, back to the pantry once more. Eventually she tires and perches on a stool at the island and browses the internet for something sweet that she can bake. She pauses every now and then as her attention drifts to the television screen.
She begins her ingredient selection, checking thrice before settling in to begin. She pulls certain pieces from three separate sets of measuring cups, for there isn’t a full set left. An old hand mixer and bowls of varying sets. And so it begins. The crackle of not-quite-butter in the microwave. Grains of sugar stuck to her forearms. A spillage of flour. A growing ache in her wrist as she battles for control of the mixer with the devilishly thick dough of her own making.
She rolls the dough and then rolls each ball in sugar. The counters are coated with elements akin to a crime scene applied to the unmastered art of baking. She, the culprit, causing a stir all to see her mother and father smile.
When the baking is finished and the kitchen is clean, she serves the cookies to her folks and brothers. Her goal realized, she cuddles up proudly beside her mother and watches the show, the scent of cinnamon and ginger wafting towards them.
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Vegan Ginger Cookies ~ Recipe
Serves : 30 large cookies (60 small cookies) Prep time : 20 minutes Cook time : 9-12 minutes Cooling time : 10-15 minutes Ingredients :
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Steps :
- Preheat oven to 350° Fahrenheit (177° Celsius)
- In a large bowl, beat the brown sugar and butter together with a hand mixer until smooth. Combine the remaining wet ingredients : the vanilla extract and molasses, and mix until well combined and creamy.
- Add 2 cups of flour to the mix, then all the remaining dry ingredients : the baking soda, salt, ground ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Mix on low speed until all ingredients are well combined.
Note : at this point, the mixture should be fairly sticky and thick.
Add the remaining 1 ¼ cups of flour to the mix and beat on low until all ingredients are incorporated.
Note : the mixture will be quite thick, moist, but not sticky. - Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper.
- Fill a small bowl with the cup of sugar for rolling.
- For large cookies, scoop 2 tablespoons of dough, roll into a ball, then roll in sugar until entirely coated (for small cookies, scoop 1 tablespoon).
- Place the uncooked cookies on the prepared baking sheets and bake for 11 - 12 minutes (9 - 10 for small cookies).
Note : the cookies should be beginning to crack on top when finished. They will be soft when first removed, but grow firmer as they cool. - Remove cookies from the oven and let cool for 10 - 15 minutes.
- Enjoy (preferably with family or friends to combat pandemic blues).
Note: If desired, one could refrigerate half of the dough and bake the other half. As it is all non-dairy products, the refrigerated half won’t go bad for a long time. When prepared to bake the refrigerated dough, take it out of the fridge for half an hour to an hour to let it soften before rolling.