Mom always asks, “Do you want anything? From the store?” when I’m en route to the airport. Some families have pantries that are well-stocked and plentiful; refrigerators bursting with tupperware containers of homemade sauces and soups and salads. Some people have Jacques Pepin for a father. I, on the other hand, have my mom for a mother and my mom doesn’t cook.
I’m not complaining: having a non-cook for a mother meant we ate out all the time. And that she bought special treats from the bakery. My favorite special treat from the bakery may or may not be Jewish in origin (I could only find it in the Kosher section of my Atlanta supermarket): the rainbow cookie.
The rainbow cookie is my favorite cookie. I’ve been eating rainbow cookies my entire life. They consist of three spongy layers–red, yellow and green (Bob Marley t-shirt colors?)–between which rests a delicious raspberry jam spread. The outsides are coated with chocolate and Christened (or, in this case, Mosesed) delicious. Rainbow cookies are not very good for you.
In my time away from home (and by home I mean Boca Raton, Florida) I’ve never really found that elusive, perfect rainbow cookie. They never quite taste right. Maybe because the ones I find not in Boca aren’t homemade. Don’t get me wrong, the ones in Boca aren’t homemade either. But knowing my mother took the trouble to buy them for me; that mom knows they’re my favorite cookie, makes them that much more delicious. And maybe that’s why the rainbow cookie is my favorite cookie. They’re made (read: bought) with a mother’s love.