Family tradition. You come to love and understand it so much more as time goes by. We were all welcomed into the kitchen at a young age. Nanny would wrap me up in a white apron, plop a chefs hat on my head and pull a chair over to the counter top so I could watch her make biscuits. I'd be the designated batter beater, ingredient measurer or biscuit cutter depending on the day. It was such a treat.
This year on our family vacation, celebrating the 50th wedding anniversary of my grandparents, I felt it was my duty to share the excitement of butter, eggs and sprinkles with Belle. Back in Manhattan I whipped up a batch of Martha's sugar cookie dough, froze it in two disks and made way for VT. The house we rented lacked your typically baking wares so I improvised. Thankfully, I reverted to the ole' wine bottle as a rolling pin more than a few times in Paris.
The cookies were beautifully adorned by Belle. She has quite an eye for color scheme and texture. The cookies were presented as a gift from Belle to her mommy as a home made birthday surprise. Fun was had in the kitchen. Treats were had by all.
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