Mom Dick's Butter Cookies

Mom Dick was my aunt's mother-in-law. She was also known for her chicken soup which was described as "hot water that a chicken ran through."

According to family history, these luxurious cookies were baked every week through the Great Depression and into the years of World War II butter rationing by Mom Dick, a struggling widow with three children who lived on the verge of starvation. Illogical? Yes. The explanation is that Mom Dick's sister, Aunt Lilly, provided the butter and eggs. Lilly was the red-hot mama of the neighborhood, a living incarnation of Mae West's movie persona. She had a boyfriend, a truck driver who came into New York once a week from New Jersey with a truck-load of butter and eggs. He always gave Lilly the day-old eggs and tainted butter that the merchants had refused. Like the cookies, Lilly was a treat: sweet, tender, and rich in butterfat content.

My aunt, Mom Dick's daughter-in-law, often made the cookies when I was a child. She would hide them in various places to prevent the kids from devouring them. My cousin, however, always knew exactly where they were hidden. Favorite hiding places were in the washing machine, under the dish towels in the linen closet, and on the bed slats under my aunt's bed. So that my aunt would not realize that we had found the cookies, we each took only one or two. This was ironic as my aunt would willingly have given us one or two, if we had asked.

In 1956, when I was at the University of Washington in Seattle, I got a letter from my aunt that ended with "If there is anything you would like me to send you, just let me know." I asked for butter cookies. She sent me the recipe explaining that mailing the cookies from Brooklyn to Seattle would be impossible because they would be shaken into crumbs. I made them in the dorm kitchen and finally got my fill.

Mother's Day 1942 (Mermaid Avenue in Coney Island)
Mom Dick is on the far right
My aunt, Leonore, is on the far left
My cousin, Louise, is standing in the middle


.	Mom Dick's Butter Cookies 1/2 pound Sweet Butter 1/2 cup Sugar 2 Egg Yolks 2 cups Flour Jam Note: All ingredients should be at room temperature. Cream butter. Add other ingredients except Jam and mix well. Roll into little balls (about 1 tablespoon of dough) and place on greased or non-stick cookie sheet. Flatten each ball with fork (dip fork in water or flour to prevent sticking, if necessary) or press with the thumb to make thumb print and fill the hole with jam or jelly. (This is a great way to use the tiny jars of jam that come in gift baskets and the jam left in the bottoms of those jars that are almost entirely empty and have moved to the back reaches of the refrigerator.) Bake quickly in hot oven.	.

.	The Cookies of Fanny Dick of Coney Island Mom Dick was my aunt's mother-in-law. She was also known for her chicken soup which was described as "hot water that a chicken ran through." According to family history, these luxurious cookies were baked every week through the Great Depression and into the years of World War II butter rationing by Mom Dick, a struggling widow with three children who lived on the verge of starvation. Illogical? Yes. The explanation is that Mom Dick's sister, Aunt Lilly, provided the butter and eggs. Lilly was the red-hot mama of the neighborhood, a living incarnation of Mae West's movie persona. She had a boyfriend, a truck driver who came into New York once a week from New Jersey with a truck-load of butter and eggs. He always gave Lilly the day-old eggs and tainted butter that the merchants had refused. Like the cookies, Lilly was a treat: sweet, tender, and rich in butterfat content. My aunt, Mom Dick's daughter-in-law, often made the cookies when I was a child. She would hide them in various places to prevent the kids from devouring them. My cousin, however, always knew exactly where they were hidden. Favorite hiding places were in the washing machine, under the dish towels in the linen closet, and on the bed slats under my aunt's bed. So that my aunt would not realize that we had found the cookies, we each took only one or two. This was ironic as my aunt would willingly have given us one or two, if we had asked. In 1956, when I was at the University of Washington in Seattle, I got a letter from my aunt that ended with "If there is anything you would like me to send you, just let me know." I asked for butter cookies. She sent me the recipe explaining that mailing the cookies from Brooklyn to Seattle would be impossible because they would be shaken into crumbs. I made them in the dorm kitchen and finally got my fill. Mother's Day 1942 (Mermaid Avenue in Coney Island) Mom Dick is on the far right My aunt, Leonore, is on the far left My cousin, Louise, is standing in the middle	.