Pecan shorties

Before I tell the story of making pecan shorties, I want to tell another story.

There was a time about four years ago when the oldest of my three younger sisters was coming to Nashville to visit me and Jake and a baby Henry. She was flying into Nashville International Airport in the late afternoon on a Thursday. Jake and Henry and I were living in our old house (by old, I mean both former and old, as it dated to 1930), which, according to my husband because I'm clueless about this sort of thing, was about 7 miles from the airport. But -- and this is an important but -- part of those 7 miles was interstate.

If you know me, you probably already know I have a thing about driving on the interstate. The thing being that I (almost always) get lost. Because of my thing, if getting somewhere requires interstate driving, it's not me who does the driving if we can help it. But, this particular time four years ago when my cake-making sister was coming to visit, it really kind of needed to be me.

Because I knew there was a good chance I'd end up lost and panicked, and because Henry was in a phase of disliking his carseat, we decided to get a sitter for him while I drove to pick up my sister. The whole screaming baby thing can make stressful situations more stressful. That afternoon, the sitter came, and directions in hand, I set out to the airport.

I apologize for how long this is getting. Please bear with me.

I started out fine. Then somehow, somewhere, I got off track. I knew right away I had gone wrong, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how I had. And the thing about the interstate -- the thing I really hate about the interstate -- is that once you've gone wrong, it's hard to go right. At least it is for me. So, realizing that I've gone wrong, I get off at the first exit I can. I haven't gone too far; I'm only downtown. I head home from downtown by familiar roads, and not yet running too late, and definitely not wanting to admit defeat, I start again. Again, I start out fine. And again, I get off track. These were the days before GPS -- and for me, anyway, -- the days before a cell phone. So, there was no way to be rescued in process. So, I drove back home. Again. And this time, I was defeated. I can't remember if I was crying, but I'm sure I was.

I went inside the house, alone, and paid the confused babysitter. Jake was by this time getting off work, and he called to say so. I told him what had happened. He left work and went to the airport. He rescued me.

And it's the rescuing that this story has in common with the pecan shorties. Because when I made the batter for these cookies on Sunday night, I had to call him for help. I had called my mom and told her, hysterically, how I couldn't form balls with the buttery dough. It sounded like I had done everything right, she said, but maybe I wasn't pressing the dough enough. "It can't be right! There's nothing right about it!" I screamed into the phone. "There's no way to press them more! There's no way to do it!" I got off the phone with her and called out for Jake. He came down from upstairs and saw me, surrounded by the kids and a buttery, floury mess.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to press the dough into balls, but I can't figure out how to do it!" I said.

He grabbed a glob of dough, mashed it between his palms, and handed a ball to me. "Like this?" he said.

Yes. Like that.

So ... if interstate driving comes naturally to you, by all means, make these delicious cookies that look like snowballs and taste like a piece of heaven. And if it doesn't, please make me feel better by telling me so in the comments section.

Ingredients:

1 cup salted butter (two sticks)

2 cups flour

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 cup broken pecan meats

powdered sugar

Directions:

Soften the butter to room temperature, and beat it until fluffy (also known as "creaming the shortening).

Stir in the flour and nuts. Stir in the vanilla.

Shape the dough into small balls.

Place the dough balls on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 300 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes. (The cookies will be only very slightly browned.)

While the cookies still are warm, roll them in powdered sugar. Cool before serving.

Comments

[Emily Merkle Snook]

I hate interstate driving, but GPS has been a godsend when it is a necessity to hop on a highway. But alas, I cannot cook *anything*.
Much less make balls out of flour and cookie stuff.
Feel better? :)
Emily

[Rebecca at Toothwhale]

I do feel a little better, actually. ;) Thanks, Emily!

[Jessica]

These cookies are so delicious. Who knew five ingredients could taste so good. I haven't tried to make them, so I'm not sure how I'd do, but I couldn't make macaroons, remember? Maybe, one day, when I'm feeling competent, I'll give this a try.

[Cassandra Kellogg]

It's funny how sisters can be so different. These cookies, like navigating the highway, come easy to me--it's writing about it that would be difficult.

[Leisa A. Hammett]

Oh, my. My mouth is watering. This reminds me of the time I dropped my wuzband off at the Boston airport and then attempted to drive to the next town. I was on story assignment in New England and he had joined me for the weekend. Boston is old and the infrastructure hasn't kept up and the buildings are historic. So, you just deal. Like five lanes of traffic converging into a two lane tunnel and you're supposed to remember which way to head on the other side of the tunnel. At least twice if not three or five, I went the wrong way and had to loop back through the airport!