By June. Turned twenty-eight. The birthday dinner is the same and I don't want it to change and it won't change. Spaghetti and meatballs. Sunflowers. Mama's $20. Linda's cake. The traditions are bedrock. The traditions are the part of my life that doesn't move, and I need the part that doesn't move because everything else moves — the kids grow, the business changes, the blog evolves, the garden produces, the books sell or don't, the world spins. The spaghetti doesn't spin. The spaghetti stays.
This year's milestone: the food bank asked me to speak at a conference. Not a food bank conference — a regional hunger conference. In Oklahoma City. In front of 300 people. About the cooking class program, the cookbooks, the model we've built. Me, behind a podium, with a PowerPoint, talking about food insecurity and community cooking and the math of feeding a family on $5 a night. The girl who dropped out of school, presenting at a conference. The irony is not lost on me. The irony never lands softly.
I said yes (the pattern holds) and then panicked (the pattern also holds). Dustin said, "You've been on TV." I said, "TV is four minutes. This is forty-five." He said, "Just cook something." I said, "I can't cook at a conference." He said, "Then talk about cooking. You're good at talking about cooking." He's right. I'm good at talking about cooking because I'm good at cooking. The talking is just the cooking with words instead of hands. Same ingredients: honesty, receipts, love. Same result: somebody gets fed.
The spaghetti is Mama’s department — always has been, always will be — but after I said yes to a podium in front of 300 people and spent three days quietly panicking about it, I needed something I could make with my own hands to feel like myself again. Linda brings the cake, and I love her for it, but this year I wanted to add something little and celebratory and mine: these Snickerdoodle Ice Cream Sandwich Minis, because a birthday should have more than one sweet thing, and because sometimes the best way I know to calm a nervous heart is to bake a cookie and press it around a scoop of something cold and call it a party.
Snickerdoodle Ice Cream Sandwich Minis
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 1 hr (includes freezing) | Servings: 12 mini sandwiches
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon cream of tartar
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
- 1 large egg
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 1/2 cups vanilla ice cream (or flavor of your choice), slightly softened
Instructions
- Preheat — and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
- Make the dough. Whisk together flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. In a separate large bowl, beat butter and 1/2 cup sugar until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in egg and vanilla. Stir in flour mixture until just combined.
- Roll in cinnamon sugar. Combine remaining 1/4 cup sugar with cinnamon in a small bowl. Roll dough into 1-inch balls (you should get about 24), then roll each ball in the cinnamon-sugar mixture to coat. Place 2 inches apart on prepared baking sheets and flatten slightly with your palm.
- Bake. Bake 10–12 minutes, until edges are just set and centers look slightly underdone. Do not overbake — soft cookies make better sandwiches. Cool on the pan 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
- Assemble. Match cookies into pairs by size. Scoop about 2 tablespoons of softened ice cream onto the flat side of one cookie and press the matching cookie on top, flat side down, to form a sandwich. Work quickly.
- Freeze. Place assembled sandwiches on a parchment-lined tray and freeze at least 30 minutes until firm. Serve straight from the freezer.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 95mg