Inspiration comes to cooks from strange places.
Last week I experienced one of the weirder examples of this.
Biking Biking with my husband and sons in Colorado’s San Juan mountains, we set out from Ridgway, a picturesque, two-block town straight out of a John Wayne movie, and headed for
the Ridgway State Park and reservoir. It
was a glorious fall day -- bright blue sky, with a few wispy white clouds and a
biker-friendly temperature of 60 degrees.
After rolling the length of the Dallas Creek Trail (a paved bikeway along the sloshing creek), we entered the state park and began an aggressive uphill climb on a single-track path that hugged the cliff bordering the reservoir.
Out of nowhere came a nasty black cloud…and by the time we
reached the top of the trail, which ended in a campground and parking lot, it
was starting to rain and the wind was working itself into a frenzy.
Luckily for us, the park’s Visitor Center was nearby. We
rolled over and were met by three park rangers who gestured to us
emphatically. “Severe storm
warning,” one shouted. “We just got word of a severe storm warning. Come on
inside.”
For the next hour-plus, we watched Mother Nature put on one
of her better shows…and thanked
our lucky stars that we weren’t still on a muddy trail hanging over a cliff as
fierce lightning brushed by.
Our family is, by nature, a resourceful bunch. We can entertain ourselves quite well. But after reading the brochures on “how to deal with black bears” and the geological history of the Uncompahgre Plateau; scanning the visitors’ guest book; and trying on the goofy “animal” hats for sale, we were wishing someone had brought a deck of cards
That’s when I spotted the Colorado Cookie Collection. The cookbook, by a couple of Colorado women who compiled the recipes from friends and family, was one of a handful of Colorado books for sale at the Visitor Center.
If it had been Colorado Casseroles, I would have been
intrigued. But I am not a baker. Don’t have the precision or the patience. I
might bake cookies or a pound cake once or twice a year. However, I do love
cookies more than any other type of sweet and I do know a good recipe when I
see one.
With nothing else to do, I flipped through the Cookie
Collection and became an instant fan.
The book is divided into chapters on bar cookies, drop cookies, holiday
cookies, no-bake cookies, etc.
Recipes are concise and well-written. Type face is user-friendly. And
though there were no photos, my mouth was watering as I read.
With the stub of pencil I found in my bike bag and the back
side of a park trail map, I jotted down, shorthand, the recipes for
High-Altitude Marble Brownies and Oatmeal Drops.
When the rain let up and a park ranger declared that the emergency was over, we hustled out to our very wet bikes, inched down the slippery single track and found ourselves back in scattered sunshine within a half hour and back in Ridgway in a little more than that.
Before heading home, though, I hit the local supermarket for peanut butter chips, baking powder, unsweetened cocoa and cream cheese.
That night, I whipped up a batch of ooey-gooey marble
brownies that were quintessential Americana, quintessential comfort food. My kids were disappointed that we
didn’t get to do the whole park-reservoir bike ride, but they know they hit the
jackpot when I discovered the Colorado Cookie Collection. By authors Duncan and Patrick, it’s
available on-line at Barnes & Noble, Oh yeah, and at the Ridgway State Park
Visitor Center.