Lilikoi & Thyme

Wow, what a week in Portland. It was non-stop meeting to lunch to meeting to seminar to meeting, and it was pretty amazing.  I met some fascinating people who are doing such cool work in the food world, and I can’t wait to see them all again next year in Austin.

On Wednesday afternoon, late after a meeting with the boss, I missed the beginning of the 3-hour seminar I was supposed to attend, which was actually just fine by me because it meant I could steal away for an hour or so to Powell’s Books, just a few blocks away in downtown Portland.  Powell’s is a mecca for bibliophiles like me–it’s the largest bookstore in the world that combines new and used books, and it takes up a whole city block. So I switched from slacks and heels to jeans and sneakers to walk over and get lost in the stacks of cookbooks.

I found some truly wonderful books (packing to come home became something of an issue) like one of Gourmet’s first cookbooks from 1950, a really cool book on canning and preserving the produce of Hawaii and a 70’s era reproduction of the very first Fannie Farmer edition. As I was checking out, I wondered aloud to the guy at the counter if they had a Hawaiian Cooking section I might have missed. He said, ‘oh, yeah! Come, follow me,’ and led me to a little shelf at the back of the regional section, a good 2 feet above my eye level.  I set down my stack of books and pulled over a ladder.  In the middle of the shelf was a pretty green book, the kind put out by associations of women or charity leagues, and this one was titled “We, The Women of Hawaii.” It came out in 1986, the year I turned one, and was compiled by a group of influential women in Honolulu social scene.  I found a list of contributors on the inside cover, and there in bold print was my grandma’s name! What a rock star!

When I got home yesterday, the first thing I did was sit down on the couch with a cup of tea and flip through the pages to find the recipes with ‘Amy Matsuda’ printed in the margins next to the text. I should have known–her recipes in the book were her two most famous specialties, cream puffs and oatmeal cookies. They’re legends in the family, and apparently they were known outside the Matsuda household too.  Grandma’s oatmeal cookies are super special, and totally unlike the doughy soft raisiney things you most often find.  These are crisp and thin, almost wafers, with brown sugar and vanilla, and the taste of oats in the starring role.  Perfect with coffee, delicious with ice cream, these guys are snacked on any time of day, so the cookie jar never stays full for long.  As for the crumbs at the bottom of the jar, the crushed cookies make an amazing cheesecake or pie crust–substitute the oatmeal cookies for graham crackers and you’ve got a hearty, crunchy crust. Grandma’s original recipe makes about 8 dozen cookies, which is perfectly practical if your house is full of 6 kids and 14 grandkids like hers.  For my somewhat smaller household, I’ve halved the recipe and made a couple of small changes. Don’t worry, I have Grandma’s approval.

Grandma’s Oatmeal Cookies

• 1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
• 1/3 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 cup flour
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 cup oatmeal
• 1/2 cup wheat germ

Makes 4 dozen cookies

Heat the oven to 350F. Cream the butter with white and brown sugar until light and fluffy.  Stir in the beaten egg. Mix the salt and baking soda in with the flour, then add the flour 1/4 cup at a time, stirring only enough to incorporate fully. Mix in the vanilla, then with your hand, fold in the oatmeal and wheat germ.  Using a wet teaspoon, drop little mounds onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper, spaced well apart.  Using the back of a spoon or the bottom of a drinking glass, dip in water and use to press the dough into an 1/8-inch-thick round.  Chill 5 minutes in the freezer, then bake until the cookies are a deep golden brown, rotating once, about 12 minutes. Slide the whole sheet of parchment paper off the baking sheet and onto a cooling rack. Cool completely before serving.  Oatmeal cookies will keep up to 2 weeks in an airtight container, though they’re likely to be gone by the end of the weekend.