By The wedding anniversary was last month and this month is the wedding anniversary of the year I became Savannah Clarke, which is not exactly how time works but is how I think about it. October 2026, one year ago. One year of being a Clarke. One year of having a name I chose and a family I chose and a kitchen in Millbrook and a husband who adjusts the fans and a baby who crawls toward the stove.
I wrote a long blog post about the anniversary. About what it means to choose your name. About building your life from scratch when you have no blueprint. I have been writing this blog for years and the voice is different now from the beginning. Less armored. More direct. I write as someone who has things now and can describe them, rather than as someone who is writing toward things she is not sure she will have.
Tyler made dinner for our anniversary. He made scrambled eggs. I ate them. They were still not good scrambled eggs. He looked at me after I ate them and said: I know. I said: it is okay. He said: you have been making me excellent food for years. I said: yes. He said: this is my best reciprocation. I said: I know. I eat the eggs every time. He said: I know. That is love. That is actually what love is. Eating the eggs every time and not saying they are worse than they are and not saying they are better than they are, just eating them because someone you love made them with what they have.
The small Bright Beginnings Daycare in the small downtown Prattville is the small workplace. The small toddler-room teacher role (ages 18-36 months). The small daycare-worker-salary plus the small fiancé-Cole’s small carpenter-paycheck is the small two-income engaged-couple budget. The small wedding-saving has been the small two-year-project.
Tyler Clarke (the small fiancé, 29, diesel-mechanic-from-Millbrook) works at a small trucking-company. The small wedding is planned for October 2026 with Gloria walking Savannah down the aisle. The small marriage will be the small first-stable-adult-relationship Savannah has had. The small foster-care upbringing means the small family-of-origin had been the small unstable-shape.
The small foster-care-history: Savannah went into the small Alabama-foster-care system at age six after the small mother’s incarceration and the small father’s absence. The small seven-foster-placements between infancy and age sixteen. The small last placement (Gloria and James Martin in Prattville, who became the small forever-parents) since age fourteen. The small Martin-foster-parents continued to be the small only-parents until James died in 2024 at 77 from a heart-attack mowing the lawn.
The small self-taught-Southern-cooking is the small kitchen-identity. The small no-grandmother-recipes-passed-down meant the small YouTube-and-cookbook-self-teaching from age sixteen onward. The small fried chicken, the small biscuits, the small mac-and-cheese, the small banana pudding, the small sweet tea are the small staples.
The small Gloria-Martin kitchen-mentorship (Gloria is the small foster-mom-now-mom) has been the small adult-cooking-development since the small fourteen-year-old. The small Gloria-Sunday-dinners-with-Savannah-cooking-now are the small weekly-rhythm since James passed. The small Gloria-recipes (Black-Southern-comfort-food the small chain of Gloria’s mother and grandmother) are the small heritage-by-adoption.
The small Prattville-small-town-community is the small social-context. The small First Baptist Church congregation is the small church-family. The small daycare-coworkers are the small adjacent-friend-network. The small Martin-family (Gloria, James who passed in 2024, plus the small current-foster-child Destiny age 6 in Gloria’s care) is the small chosen-family. The small Tyler’s-family-in-Millbrook (Debbie, Roy, and four-brothers) is the small in-law-family.
Tyler’s scrambled eggs are never going to be the best thing I have ever eaten, and that is exactly the point — love is not about perfection, it is about showing up with what you have. So after our anniversary dinner I wanted to bake something for him, something from my side of the kitchen, something that did not require a grandmother’s recipe card or a fancy pantry. These olive oil chocolate chip cookies are that: unfussy, made with what most people already have, and honestly better than they have any right to be. I made a batch the next morning while the baby was still asleep, and Tyler ate four of them before he left for work.
Olive Oil Chocolate Chip Cookies
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 24 cookies
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup olive oil (mild or light variety)
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 1 1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
- Mix the wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, granulated sugar, and brown sugar until well combined, about 1 minute. Add the eggs one at a time, whisking after each addition. Stir in the vanilla extract.
- Add the dry ingredients. Add the flour, baking soda, and salt to the bowl. Stir with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix.
- Fold in the chocolate chips. Stir in the chocolate chips until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
- Portion the dough. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. You should get approximately 24 cookies across the two sheets.
- Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just set and lightly golden. The centers will look slightly underdone — that is correct. They will firm up as they cool.
- Cool. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. Eat at least one warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 162 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 72mg