Nonnie's Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies

Because sometimes, cookies are just the ticket. 

This is not your average oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.

As you can see from the picture above, they're crunchy - brittle, almost - which makes them absolutely irresistible. 

These cookies are a staple of my childhood. My mom (who got the recipe from my grandmother, Nonnie) would usually make two batches: one with nuts (for my dad and me) and one without (for my younger brother, who, for the first 15 years of his life, only ate things that started with "ch," like chocolate, chicken, and cheese). 

I whipped this up for Jordan to take to work last week and he said they were a big hit. They're not complicated (nor are they healthy - full disclosure), but they are perfectly delicious. 

What makes these cookies so different from others? 

The balance of salt against sugar is really the star of this recipe. They're crunchy, but light, so when you finish one, you feel like you could go back for five more. (And if you're me, you do go back for five more.) Trust. These will knock you out. 

Ingredients: 

1 cup Crisco
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs
1 ¼ cup sifted all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon cinnamon
3 cups Quaker Old Fashioned oats
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup chopped pecans

Directions: 

1. Preheat oven to 350. Sift together flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon in a mixing bowl and set aside.

2. Cream crisco and sugars together.

3. Add vanilla and eggs. Mix well.

4. Add flour mixture and mix thoroughly. (Tip: Make sure your flour mixture is whisked smooth - no lumps!)

5. If you're a nut kind of gal (or guy), add pecans and stir them in with a wooden spoon. 

6. Drop by the rounded tablespoon onto a greased baking sheet, parchment, or (my favorite thing in the world) a clean Silpat. 

7. Bake at 350 for 12-14 minutes, depending on your oven. The cookies will be golden brown and have a light, crunchy texture when they're cooled. If you can manage not to eat the dough, this recipe yields 48! 

This is a perfect, quick, and seriously crowd-pleasing cookie to make if you ever need to bake for lost of people - a work event, bake sale, party, etc. People will be begging you for the recipe! 

If You Are White.

If you are White, and you are reading this, I want to ask you a favor. 

I want us to talk. I don't mean I want to preach at you, or scream my opinions and then flee - I mean I want to have this conversation as though you were right here at my kitchen table with me, because if you're reading this, chances are, I know you personally and I love you. 

If you'll let me, I need to say some things first about where this is coming from.

I am not writing this post because I am an expert on race relations. I'm not writing it because I think I can say anything better or more meaningfully than it has already been said. I am not writing this to blame you or shake my finger at you if the things that we talk about are new ideas for you. I'm not writing it because I have a vast knowledge of criminal justice or police codes of conduct. 

I am writing this post because I am a White person who has had lots of hard, tearful, gut-wrenching conversations about race in both structured and unstructured environments, both with people of color and without. I am writing this post because I have been in the unique position to sit in a circle of my Black coworkers and hear them speak about how painful it can be to be Black in America - and that some of their pain was caused unconsciously by things I did or things I left undone. I am writing to share with you some things that I would never have learned had I not sat in those circles. I'm writing this because I am fortunate to have friends that span the political spectrum, and because I believe that when I get it right, I can deliver loving words that ring true across lines of belief. 

Mostly, though, I am writing this post because I believe in my bones that to stand silent in the face of brokenness is wrong. 

I am writing this post tentatively, intentionally, walking on glass to make sure that every word I write is the word I mean to choose. I will undoubtedly write and re-write this post several times, so please understand: this is being created with care. 

I want to talk about Alton Sterling. 

Alton Sterling was 37 years old. He was shot to death by police in Baton Rouge yesterday. 

If you are White and have not seen this video, I encourage you to watch it. Typically, this is not the kind of thing I would share. I don't see any reason for violent or graphic images or videos - no matter what they feature - to be passed around. But this needs to be seen. 

 

Let's talk about some of the reactions that we can have to this video. Let's just break them down, truly. 

1. It's possible that you can't watch this video again because you are Black. It may be that seeing another person of color killed by police is simply too painful to even engage with. You don't want to see it because you or someone you know has been in a similar situation with a police officer, or because you live in fear of being in one in the future. 

2. It's possible that you are a person, regardless of race, whose first instinct is to assume that the Mr. Sterling must have done something to warrant the kind of treatment he received from the police officers in the tape. You feel so sad for him and for his family, but you also feel suspicious. 

3. You may be a person who sees this video and feel overwhelmed and numb, impotent to do anything about it. What is there to do? 

4. You might be a White person who sees this video and puts on proverbial armor. You may think to yourself, "Here we go again. I'm going to have to hear about this for weeks. This guy probably did something to set these cops off, and he's going to get painted as yet another face of the Black Lives Matter movement when he was probably up to no good in the first place." 

Maybe you feel more than one of those things. A mixture. It's probable that your reaction has something to do with your race. 

As I said earlier - I have no idea what the details of this case will turn out to be. I've read reports that the reason the police were called is because Mr. Sterling had a weapon. I've read reports that say a gun was recovered from his pocket after he'd been killed. I have no idea what will surface in the weeks and months to come, though for the purposes of the points I'm trying to make here, none of that matters. 

What I do know is this: there were two grown men sitting on top of him. In my mind, as an un-trained, non-law professional, it is clear that Mr. Sterling was not posting any sort of deadly threat to the police officers on the scene or to others around him. Alton Sterling was shot for, what seems to me to be, no reason. I don't understand it. And not just in a "I don't understand the world! Why do bad things happen??" way - I literally don't understand it. I don't understand why that happened. It is excessive force. It's murder. 

If you are White, if you would, I'd like you to do something that will be upsetting for a minute. I want you to imagine a man that you love. Your father, your husband. Your son. Really, I mean it. Hold them in your mind. (I'm doing this exercise right along with you, here.) 

Now replace Mr. Sterling with the man you love.

Imagine that man being shot at point blank range and killed. Imagine the video of his murder circulating across the world. Imagine that this is one in a series of people who look like you who have been, for whatever reason, gunned down by a group of people who are supposed to protect you. Imagine having to assume that the person who shot the man you love will not go to jail, because no other police officers who've shot people who look like you have. Imagine that this person you love had some kind of brush with law enforcement in his past (a DUI, a drug possession charge, a public intoxication) and that that incident is being trotted out as a means of justifying his death. 

Would you feel safe? Would it be easy to trust that the justice system is always fair? These questions are hypothetical if you are White. 

It's enough to make you nauseous that for Black Americans, this isn't a hypothetical. This isn't a mental exercise that will be upsetting for a minute. It's a reality that's upsetting for a lifetime. 

If you are White, chances are, you have never worried that you'll be mistreated by police. 

Speaking from my own experience, there's never been a moment when I've thought, "I need to make sure both my hands are free as I approach this police officer so he won't think I'm holding a gun." I've never worried about whether what I'm wearing makes me look like a "thug," and therefore worried that I'll be profiled by law enforcement. I've never once feared for my life at the sight of a police officer approaching my driver's side window to give me a ticket. I will never have to teach my children not to run if there's a police officer nearby so that the cops won't think they're running FROM something. I will never have to worry whether my son's hoodie made him a suspect. 

This is because I am a White, blonde, 130-pound upper-middle class female. When you look at me, you make a snap judgment that I am non-threatening. If I were shot by police, no matter the circumstances, there would be a NATIONAL UPROAR. Remember Natalee Holloway? 

Here's what I really want to say: 

If you are White, no matter what your socioeconomic status or how much money you have in the bank, it means you will almost always get the benefit of the doubt in any given situation. If you are Black, it means you probably won't.

The concept of "White privilege" is a tricky one to unpack. When it's done poorly (and it's done poorly a lot) it is explained so that White people feel like their response should be, "I'm sorry for being White." 

That's not what White privilege means. When someone says that Black Lives Matter, they don't mean White Lives Don't. They're saying it doesn't even need to be said aloud that White Lives Matter, because just look around! It's obvious. Black Lives Matter means that because of the state of the world, we actually have to say out loud that Black Lives Matter, lest it be forgotten. 

Privilege means, in my own life, I know that almost everything I do will be met with relative ease. If my house gets broken into, I feel confident knowing that police will defend me. If I break down on the side of the road, I'm comfortable calling for help. And if I were shot, no one would ask, "What did she do to deserve it?" In a few hours, I'll be at work helping customers and I'm sure there will be a moment in my day when I won't be thinking about race. But that's because I don't have to think about it in order to survive in the world. That's what privilege is. 

Alton Sterling was selling CDs and DVDs to make a living. He had the blessing of the store owner. And he was shot. Why? 

I'm not asking you to condemn law enforcement. I'm not asking you to stop asking questions or engaging in dialogue. Chances are that if you've had a complicated experience with race, it has nothing to do with hate and everything to do with fear. And I understand that. There have been so many times in my own conversations about race when I was afraid to hear the answers to the questions I was asking. And it was hard. And thank God, because those were the moments when I consider myself to have been educated. 

 

Wherever you are in your journey with issues like this - whether you're someone who tries to live a life of racial consciousness on a daily basis, or you're someone who has historically stayed out of conversations like this one because they're just too intense - there's room for you. Everybody has room to grow. God knows I do. 

All it takes is remembering that race isn't something that Black America gets to forget about - they live in it, every day, all day. All it takes is softening your heart to understand what it must be like to live in a country where someone who looks like you is shot down in the street on a far-too-regular basis, and then you have to listen to people debate whether or not that person deserved to die. 

If nothing else, what you can do is sit for a second. Consider what it would be like to not be you. How the world could be a very different, scarier, and less safe place. How you have the opportunity to stand up for something here, and say definitively that you are ready to do your part, to learn, to listen. How this is a moment where humility and deep compassion need to drive our response of holy outrage. How this movement has already started, and we as White people need to just get on board.

Any little change you make in the way you talk about and/or perceive situations like this - that will make a difference. Changing your little corner of the world will make a difference. Not allowing people to make racially insensitive jokes just "because this is the South;" not accepting prejudice around you; not jumping to conclusions about who did and deserved what - all of that makes a difference. And a difference is what we need. 

Because a human being breathed his last yesterday after being shot to death. In a parking lot. By a cop.

Because we have to find a way to make America everyone's America. 

Because now is the moment to lift your voice, if you are White. 

 

 

Postscript, July 8, 4:30 PM: 

Thank you all for your heartfelt and passionate comments. I am so happy that you chose to engage here, even if what you wanted to share was that you wholeheartedly disagree. I'm choosing to close the comments section, as I believe salient points have been made and can be reflected on by reading the thoughts that have already been contributed rather than by adding additional commentary. 

Out of dialogue comes a lot of understanding, and even when we don't see eye-to-eye, we're made better for having heard the others' opinions. 

Thanks again, 
MC

DNR - JTI: Construction.

As usual, credit where it's due for the "DNR - JTI" idea, invented by the much cooler and funnier Mollie Erickson, whose blog can be found here

Dear Construction, 
You and I have a complicated relationship. In Jordan's and my first and second homes, we've unwittingly moved in next door to what would be a construction site. This year, as an added bonus, we moved not just next door to a construction site, but also across the street from one. By "complicated," I of course mean you make me want to pluck out my eyeballs out and throw them at you. DNR - JTI.

Dear Nailgun, 
sssssssFOOM. sssssFOOM. sssssFOOM. This is the soundtrack of my life. It scores my laundry-doing, my bed-making, my tidying up, my dinner-cooking, my bill-paying. I used to be scared of Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men. Now I just want him to come cow-tranquilize me between the eyes so I can escape you, nailgun. It's not your fault, I'm sure you do a perfectly good job at what it is you do. But...I hate you.  DNR - JTI. 

Dear Head Guy of the Guys Pouring Concrete,
We live on a one-way street. You have chosen to park your very large truck in the middle of said street, and not in the gravel driveway that was, I should point out, built into the construction site for the express purpose of housing large vehicles like yours. When I politely ask you to park there instead, you look at me, wink, grin, and say, "No." I really should be congratulating you, because I don't think any one person has ever made me so instantly full of white-hot rage. If you think that because I'm a girl I can't come down there and kick your ass, you haven't seen Mulan. DNR - JTI. 

Dear 7:30 in the Morning,
I used to love you, 7:30. You were a sweet time full of soft morning sunlight and coffee smell. You were a gentle nudge into the rest of the day. Now, you are the sound of the "reverse" warning for backhoe digging up the lot across the street. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP WAKE UP MARY CATHERINE THE BACKHOE IS HERE GET UP WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO TODAY I BET IT'S A LOT HAVE YOU EVEN PLANNED WHAT YOU'RE COOKING FOR DINNER I BET YOU HAVEN'T YOU'LL BE LATE FOR PURE BARRE IF YOU DON'T GET UP RIGHT NOW  TOM HANKS PROBABLY NEEDS TO GO OUT WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE HAVE YOU FIGURED IT OUT YET BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP DNR JTI BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Dear Tree-Clearing Team,
You guys really are the worst. You stole our shade. You cut down the trees where all the bear cubs used to play. I don't mean to go all FernGully here, but you should really see that movie. It might change some things for you. DNR - JTI. 

Dear Big Giant Man,
I think you're a high-ranking person on this job, even though you flick your cigarettes everywhere. Every time I drive past your worksite, you look at my car and shake your head disapprovingly. Why is that? Is it because you assume I am not very cool? Is it because you think I'm a snobby little blonde girl? Is it because of that time you had your truck and trailer parked next door, but it was hanging like two inches into our yard and I asked you to move it? ...okay yeah, it's probably that one. You gotta understand, BGM, that my experience with construction is if we give you guys an inch, before long, you'll be chainsawing our porch off for some extra wood. Don't be mad. I really don't like when people don't like me. Can't we make it work? DNR - JTI. 

Dear Bears,
I love that you guys don't care about the construction and will wander down anyway. We were worried all this noise would drive you away, but we should've known better. Y'all are the native members of this neighborhood. You run this shizz. If you really like me, you'll show up in the middle of the day and make all these big tough construction guys, some of whom have been not very nice to me, tee tee in their pants. Check in and I'll point them out. I'd consider it a personal favor. DNR - JTI. 

Dear Future Next-Door Neighbors,
You'll have to forgive me if, when I bring you the customary "Welcome to the Neighborhood" casserole, I accidentally punch you in the teeth. It's going to be a reflex. I won't be able to help it. But I really do hope you like your new home. DNR - JTI (the casserole and the punch in the teeth).

 

Our Fourth Festivities and an Engagement!

Oh my gosh, can we go back?? 

Over the weekend, we journeyed to to Lillian to see Jordan's family for the Fourth. Now, I'm back in Asheville writing this post, and all I can think about is how I wish we were headed back to the coast! 

This weekend was just one of those dreamy, everything-is-wonderful occasions. We had so much fun, so I thought I'd share a little bit about our trip with you - including the most wonderful news toward the bottom of this post! 

Friday

We arrived in town only to be sneakily whisked away to Mobile (about an hour away from Lillian) where Jordan's parents, along with his aunt and uncle, revealed that they bought a boat! We got to ride the Southwind on its maiden voyage from the harbor all the way to their house -- a ride which featured a family dolphins (including a baby) swimming RIGHT NEXT TO US. Y'all, they were so close that I could see their eyes under the water watching the boat. It was so dadgum magical.

Saturday:

We had a big breakfast, followed by a stroll in the Scotts' garden. So y'all, I was proud of our three measly little squash plants - please observe what my in-laws have grown. If you're thinking to yourself, "Is that OKRA??" the answer is, "Yep." Of course, we couldn't cook with it, but we could've entered it in a county fair. 

We spent the rest of the day lounging on the boat and trying not to die of a heat stroke. It's funny how quickly Jordan and I forgot what Alabama humidity is like after having lived in North Carolina for only a year. We were SUFFERING. 

We also got to play with the pups a lot Saturday. Fun fact: Abbey (Jordan's family's dog) is Tom Hanks' mom. For a while, she really didn't like him whenever we came to visit. But now, they're besties! Here's a (not very good) picture of them together: 

Sunday: 

On Sunday, we celebrated the Fourth in earnest with a lot more family members pouring into town. Thankfully, though the temperature was certainly still high, the humidity level dropped, allowing us to be outside for more than 20 seconds at a time. 

A highlight of this day was that Ryan, my brother-in-law, decided to jump off the top of the boat and land on this big blue float that we'd been using to lay out. I think his thought was that he could hit it and roll off into the water, but instead, he ended up jumping THROUGH the float and getting stuck up to his armpits. I wish we could say our first impulse was to help him, but really it was just to take pictures. 

But the best part of the weekend was still to come! 

After we'd all been in the sun all day, we wanted to shower and change for a sunset boat ride to watch the fireworks. Little did we know that something wonderful was in the works! 

We were all gathered at Jordan's grandmother's house, when suddenly, Jordan's sister Kaitlyn and her boyfriend Wil arrived back from their walk with some news: THEY WERE ENGAGED! These two have been dating for a little over five years, so it's been a long time coming, and we could not be more excited. I mean, just LOOK at these two. 

After we all (okay, I) finished crying, we hopped on the boat for the most perfect engagement nightcap: a cruise around the Bay where fireworks were going off in every direction. Ahhhh! Perfection!! 

Kaitlyn and Wil are those people that you want to hate, but you just can't. They are beautiful, smart, and talented (Kaitlyn is an insanely gifted artist and Wil is basically Pete Sampras), but they're also two of the kindest and most down-to-earth folks you could ever meet. I knew I was hitting the jackpot getting Kait as a sister-in-law, but I had no idea how blessed I'd be to end up getting to be in the same family as Wil Amanor. 

All in all, this weekend was one for the books. I hope your celebrations were just as joyful, and that you ate as many mashed potatoes (read: almost an entire pot) as I did. 

5 Things: Easy Recipes for the Fourth of July

Since we'll be traveling tomorrow, I'm going to share what would typically be a "Friday" post with you guys! 

There are so many yummy things to make/eat/drink for this holiday. It's summer, so all kinds of deliciousness is in season (namely berries, my favorite) - and that leads us to some perfect summer bites. Click the photos for quick links to each recipe!

1. Ina Garten's Flag Cake

Okay, okay, so this isn't EASY. But it's is a classic. I'm sure you've seen it on many celebrity Instagrams in years past (cough Taylor Swift cough). If you don't want to pipe the frosting in for the white stripes, just use whipped cream. My favorite part about this recipe is that it includes over two sticks of butter. Because #yolo. 

2. Cucumber Margarita

Still packs all the punch of a traditional marg, but is SUPER refreshing and crisp thanks to the infusion of cucumber in the tequila. Dangerous, because they are quite drinkable. Proceed with patriotic caution. 

3. Pasta Caprese Salad

Let someone else handle the main course - if you bring this side, you'll be the talk of the party. It's incredibly easy to make, and is a nice, light antidote to the heavier dishes that will inevitably be served. 

4. Martha's Firecracker Popsicles

This is a great one to involve kids in making. The whole thing takes under 30 minutes - all you need are the ingredients, some popsicle trays, and some popsicle sticks! The yogurt base makes them super creamy instead of watery, so they'll last even in the heat of the day. 

5. One-Pitcher Sangria

 

Had to add at least one more cocktail. Ha! This is a "dump" recipe - you dump everything in, and voila! Nothing beats a cold drink on a hot day. 

I hope everyone has something fun planned for this weekend, and that, especially in an international climate that includes refugees and airport shootings, we all take more than just a few second this weekend to consider the enormous gift of living in the United States. It's overwhelming. 

Love y'all!! 

Bikini Body.

We're approaching a big holiday weekend in which I, and I'm guessing many of you, will be in a swimsuit. 

Oh, the anxiety that comes with being in a swimsuit. 

The process to even GET into a swimsuit. Dieting. Working out. Spray tan. New bikini for a new season after trying on what seems like 400 of them. And, of course, it's best to try on bathing suits right after you've eaten a big meal and in bad lighting. That's just a personal tip from me to you. 

For the Fourth of July, Jordan and I always travel down to his family's house in coastal Alabama. We always have SO much fun - this is one of the trips I look forward to every year. We get to see family we haven't seen for a while, drink on the pier, eat delicious food, play board games - it's one of my very favorite weekends. 

Because I've been going to Pure Barre for a few months, I decided I'd really kick it into high gear and get into my best shape for the 4th - my best bikini body. I've been going to as many classes as I can, eating clean - you know the drill.

Over the weekend, I had a little flare-up with an old ankle injury (you can read about that here). My ankle has been really bugging, so I've been tentative to work it out in case that led to re-injury. 

So here's where I get vulnerable and confess something kind of ridiculous. For the last three days, I've been fixated on how disappointed I am that I wasn't able to get my last week of hardcore workouts in. I've been thinking about what my body could've looked like, and probably won't now, without those last few calorie-burners to (as we say in PB) "lift, tone, burn." I went to bed thinking about it last night. I woke up thinking about it this morning. 

*needle scratch* 

What. The hell. 

When I got up today and one of my first thoughts was insecurity about my figure, I realized how out-of-control I'd let this fixation about my "4th of July workout goals" spiral. The fact that my physical appearance is driving whether I can imagine myself having a fun weekend is so silly.

It is really easy for me to get sucked into thinking about "bikini occasions" as moments when, if I don't look my best, I won't have a good time. It's even easier for me to get so wrapped up in looking my best that I forget that IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MATTER. 

When I think back on vacations when I was in a bathing suit (my bachelorette party, beach trips with my family, my honeymoon with Jordan, etc.), my first thought is never about how much I weighed or how I looked. It's about the hysterical laughter shared among best friends, card games around the kitchen table, the incredible sunset meal we shared in St. Lucia, respectively. Not one of my first thoughts has anything to do with my appearance. I was way too "in the moment" to have time to worry about the way I looked. I was living my life! And that's what I remember. 

Now, I'll admit: there have been times when I've looked back at pictures of myself in a swimsuit and thought, "Yikes. Could've tightened that up, Mary Catherine." 

But the truth is, that's not what's important. The other truth is, NOBODY ELSE CARES. 

Nobody's memories of you being at a specific event are going to be colored by what you look like in a swimsuit. No one's. They're going to remember the time they spent with you, that joke you told, you spectacularly falling off a paddleboard, the great new game you introduced to everyone. 

If you, like me, are fixating on your bikini body this weekend, here are some things I'm going to be doing to combat that. Maybe they'll work for you, too! 

  1. Don't talk about it. I don't mean the off-handed, subtle complaint to your boyfriend/husband/mother. I mean the talking about it where you drop a little remark about how you "wish you were in better shape," or something similar, into each conversation you have. You know this trick, ladies. It's the whole "I'll point out I have a zit before anyone else has a chance," thing. Let's just skip that, shall we? 
  2. Treat yourself. There are certain things that always help me feel a little more "together" when I'm in a bikini. Getting a spray tan is one of them. Throwing on a pair of earrings or bringing a great cover up is another one. Maybe style a funky braid! It's funny how taking that extra time to show yourself a little love can make you feel like a million bucks. Make it a "look," then work that look, girl! 
  3. Choose gratefulness instead. Because, are we alive? Then we should be grateful. We're beautiful, wonderful people, and though it's easy to get wrapped up in the airbrushed/Facetuned/color corrected universe of Instagram where no one has so much as a frown line, LIFE is what happens in the messy, imperfect, non-photographed moments. We have air in our lungs, and strong legs to carry us from place to place, and arms to reach out and hold people, and eyes to see the faces of those we love most -- not to mention having a weekend where we celebrate the blessing of freedom - yeah. Suddenly a bathing suit seems pretty insignificant. We're alive. We're here. What good does it do us to waste time with the silliness of something as impermanent as physical appearance?

So, whatever your bikini body looks like - whether it's exactly what you wanted or far from it - can I just say something to you (and to me)? 

You look great. You are so loved. You're full of moxie. Now go have a margarita and jump in the pool, because that's just the sort of thing you'll always remember you did. 

Happy (early) 4th of July!