Appledoodles (Apple Snickerdoodles) -- Zaria on the Step Stool, Counting Out the Sugar

My week with the kids. Detroit Jazz Festival next month. The Riverfront getting ready. Tuesday was a long shift — second-shift overlap on a build target. Cleared it.

Pop's tireder. Sugar runs low some days. Mama monitors. Pop complains. The system holds. Sunday at Mama's. She made greens with hambone the way she has since 1985.

Corn on the cob in the husks on the smoker. Butter and salt after.

Aiden's 11. The youth basketball league. I'm coaching. He's the best player on the team and he knows it. Zaria's 8. Helps me cook on a step stool. Has opinions about the seasoning.

I am tired in the right way. The right way is the cost of love. I will pay it.

The custody calendar holds. Aiden and Zaria alternate weeks. Brianna and I co-parent without drama now. We do not always have to like each other to do this right.

Drove past Jefferson North on Tuesday. The plant is still the plant. The trucks coming out. I waved at the gate guard out of habit. He waved back even though he didn't know me. The plant is its own neighborhood.

I read for an hour Sunday night. A book about the auto industry. Half memoir, half history. Made me think about Pop and the line and the fragile contract that built the middle of this country. I underlined the parts that hit.

I cleaned the smoker Sunday morning. Brushed the grates. Emptied the ash. Wiped down the body. The smoker repays attention. So does most everything that matters.

Watched the Tigers Sunday afternoon. Lost in extras. Detroit reflex. I yelled at the TV the way Pop used to yell at the TV. The TV did not respond. The bullpen will probably not respond either.

The drive home Friday was the long way around. I took Outer Drive past the lake. The water was still. I do not always notice the water. I noticed Friday.

The Lions on TV Sunday. Lost on a missed field goal. Detroit. The neighborhood collectively groaned at the same moment. You could hear it through the windows.

A catering inquiry came in this week — fifty-person family reunion. Booked. Saturday after next.

The basketball court at the rec center got refurbished. New floor. Plays different. Bouncy. I shot a few from the elbow before practice Wednesday. The knee held. The shot fell short.

I made grocery lists on the back of envelopes the way Mama did. The list this week was short — onions, garlic, half-and-half, cornmeal, a pound of bacon. The list is the recipe of the week before it happens.

The grass came in fast this week. Cut it Saturday morning before the heat. The mower had been sitting all winter. Took three pulls to start. Once it ran, it ran. Some things just need patience.

A song came on the radio Tuesday — old Stevie Wonder — and I had to sit in the truck for the rest of it before I went into the store. Some songs do that. Detroit is a city of songs that do that.

I took a walk around the block Sunday morning. The neighborhood was quiet. The trees were the trees. The light was good. I waved at three porches. The porches waved back. Brookline holds.

Mama left me a voicemail Wednesday. She said, "DeShawn. Don't forget Sunday." I had not forgotten Sunday. I have not forgotten Sunday in twenty years. The reminder is the love. I called her back.

Pop sat in the recliner Sunday. He fell asleep before the third quarter. We covered him with a blanket.

After the corn came off the smoker and Pop fell asleep in the recliner and Mama’s greens were down to the pot liquor, Zaria was still standing on her step stool with nowhere to be—and opinions. She always has opinions. So we made cookies. Apple snickerdoodles felt right: the cinnamon-sugar roll of a classic snickerdoodle, but with apple worked in, the way Sunday at Mama’s layers thing on top of thing until you can’t imagine it any other way. Zaria measured the sugar herself. She was not wrong about the cinnamon.

Appledoodles (Apple Snickerdoodles)

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 32 min | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

• 2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons cream of tartar
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (for dough)
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup peeled, finely diced apple (about 1 medium apple, such as Honeycrisp or Granny Smith)
• For rolling: 3 tablespoons granulated sugar mixed with 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
2. Whisk dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, salt, and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Set aside.
3. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
4. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in eggs one at a time, then mix in vanilla extract until fully combined.
5. Fold in flour mixture. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet, mixing on low until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
6. Fold in apple. Using a spatula or wooden spoon, gently fold in the diced apple until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
7. Roll in cinnamon sugar. Scoop dough by rounded tablespoons (about 1 1/2 inches). Roll each ball in the cinnamon-sugar mixture until fully coated.
8. Bake. Place dough balls 2 inches apart on prepared baking sheets. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until edges are set and tops are just beginning to crack. Centers will look slightly underdone—that’s right.
9. Cool. Let cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They will firm up as they cool. Eat at least one warm. That’s not optional.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 118 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 72mg