Memories of the Greatest Cookie in the World

But first, an explanation. The biggest obstacle for me in starting a blog was what to call it. I really don't think of myself as a creative and witty person, and so I was very unsure of what I would call my blog. I thought it should reflect me and my interests somewhat, and so my first go 'round was "SoulChef". Believe it or not, SoulChef as an address was already taken. We won't get into the fact that the most recent (and only) posting on SoulChef's blog was from August 2004. So I chose Tired of Ted. Here is the story: a number of years ago, my sister was visiting Alaska in the summer. There is a Senator in Alaska named Ted Stevens. Well, he was up for re-election that year, and a gentleman with the same name as me, which rhymes with Ted, was running against him, and he had bumper stickers made that said "Tired of Ted? Vote for (insert name that rhymes with Ted here)", which my sister graciously peeled off of a lamppost and mailed to me. Needless to say it promptly went on to my 1988 Honda Accord hatchback with 180K miles on it, and thus a story was born. So I decided to name the blog "Tired of Ted".
Now that we've dispatched with the formalities, we move on to the Greatest Cookie in the World. Mallomars. 70% of Mallomars are sold in the NY area, and so I believe they are mostly a Northeastern, or perhaps even just a NY, thing. They are fantastic! And they're only available in late fall through early spring. Now, apparently they can keep chocolate from melting in Saudi Arabia, so there is no reason why Mallomars shouldn't be available year-round. A primer on Mallomars- they are essentially a thin cookie with a marshmallow on the thin cookie, covered in chocolate. They are delish. They are, dare I say, gorgeous. They also conjure up memories of growing up in a household that often did not have sweets in it. We did have one of those yellow, smiley-face cookie jars, but it was always filled with pretzels. However, once in a while, we would get Mallomars. They were my mother's absolute favorite. The only dessert she would really allow herself to indulge in. I mention this because of a wonderful article in the NY Times recently talking about how seasonal Mallomars, why they are seasonal, but most importantly, what a fantastic cookie they are. Upon discovering this article, I emailed it to my father, who instantly recalled similar memories. My mother would never share them with him, my father told me, but would not hesitate to share them with me or my sister. A testament to her love for us, he said.
It's dumping big fat snowballs onto the Northeast here, making for treacherous travel. Thankfully, I am off tomorrow to spend a week in the Caribbean.