Ginger Snaps
A chilling breeze whipped through the air as a young woman made her way down a cobblestone street. Gentle ginger locks fluttered about her face from under maroon colored cap. She was bundled against the winter air as she made her way along the street. She passed a small bakery and her nose caught the smell of something familiar. She stopped in her tracks and took a moment to absorb the scent and label it.
"Ginger," she remarked after a moment of thought.
Suddenly, her stomach rumbled, interrupting her thoughts. She saw the sign and it seemed to be calling her, begging her to enter and get wrapped in the appealing aroma. She pulled open the door and stepped in, the scent of freshly bake bread and pastries filling her nostrils. She sighed softly and wandered towards the counter. Her eyes fell on the displays of breads and cakes and cookies.
"May I help you Miss?" the storekeeper asked from behind the glass.
"Um. I'll take a plate of ginger cookies," she answered, pointing at the baked goods.
He nodded and reached into the display and pulled out a handful, placing them on a plate and handing them to her. She handed over payment and took a seat at a table in the far back corner of the shop. She simply stared at them for a moment before picking one up and taking a bite. The taste of ginger shocked her taste buds and she smiled. She had always loved the taste of ginger. She took another bite and let her mind wander back to a time from her childhood.
A seven-year-old Ginerva Weasley wandered into the kitchen and found her mother bent over the counter. The child sat down at the table and continued to watch her mother.
"Mum. What are you doing?" Ginny asked.
"Making ginger biscuits. Do you want to help?" Molly answered, turning to face her youngest and only daughter.
"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly.
She got up from her chair and went to stand beside her mother. Thee was a large bowl in which an egg, some brown sugar, shortening and molasses were awaiting mixture. Ginny stared at it. It didn't look very appetizing.
"Here. Stir this until all the lumps are out sweetie," Molly instructed her daughter as she measured out the remaining ingredients.
She measured out 2 ¼ cups of flour, 2 teaspoons of baking soda, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, ½ teaspoon of cloves and ¼ teaspoon of salt. Ginny did her best to smooth out the beginning of the batter. She stirred left and then right, using both hands to apply more pressure. Twice the bowl almost fell off of the counter. Finally Molly moved the bowl and Ginny to the table where Ginny could stand on a chair.
"How's that Mum?" Ginny ask, ceasing her stirring so her mother could inspect it.
"Let me give a good stir or two and it will be perfect," Molly said as she took the spoon and stirred it twice.
"Now we have to add all of this in and stir it," Molly said and she let Ginny dump the ingredients in.
"You can stir Mum," Ginny said with a smile.
The 7-year-old got down from the chair and looked at the large cook book that her mother was using. She brought it back to the table and sat down. Her finger ran along the page until she found where they were in the directions.
"Cover and chill for one hour," she read aloud.
"Well we're going to speed things up," Molly replied and flicked her wand. The dough was hard and cold.
Ginny giggled as she touched it. She and her mother began rolling the dough into small balls, rolling them in sugar as the directions required. Molly turned around once all the dough had been rolled out and ignited a fire under the stove.
"Careful now. Here let me do it. I don't want you getting burned," Molly said placing the six trays into the oven.
"Now what?" Ginny asked of her mother.
"Now we wait. Why don't we clean up while we wait," Molly suggested.
Ginny brought the bowls and utensils to the sink which Molly set to washing themselves. Ginny disappeared up to her room to bring down a book to read to pass the time. Molly summoned her knitting. A timer on the oven 'dinged' and Molly reached in to pull the trays out. The cookies were round and smelled heavenly. Molly set them to cooling and got plates out.
"I think we need to try them," Ginny said as she picked one up and took a bite.
"Mmm. Really good," she remarked.
Mrs. Weasley piled the rest of the cookies onto the plates and put the trays in the sink. She took off her apron and moved to the foot of the stairs.
"Boys! Cookies," she called. Six pairs of footsteps thundered down the stairs and into the kitchen.
All six Weasley boys attacked the cookies. Ron, the youngest of the six took a seat next to Ginny and proceeded to eat his handful of cookies rather barbarically
"Mum! Ron's being gross," Ginny whined.
"Aw grow up Gin," he sniggered with a mouth full of cookie.
"Ronald, stop that," Molly snapped, swatting him on the back of the head with her hand.
"I helped Mum make them," Ginny stated coolly.
"Yeah right," Fred joked as he looked at George.
"Boys that's enough. Let your sister be," Molly ordered sternly.
"Yes Mum," came the chorus of six voices.
Ginny snapped out of her reverie with the same cookie still in her hand. She smiled to herself as she ate the rest of the cookies on the plate. She simply savored the taste and the memory that they triggered. It had been a fun day. Slowly she stood up and threw her plate in the trash. She re-buttoned her coat and donned her cap once more over her read hair, stepping into the cold air. She gazed at the sign above the door once more before continuing along the path