This post is next in a sequence which began with a previous post about Bessie that you may want to read as well.
What could be simpler than posting a recipe with Bessie’s name on it? Bessie would be happy. I would be happy. Hopefully our readers would be happy. Things do not always work out the way we expect. Bessie’s first baking adventure turned out to be a marathon!
Fortunately Gracie came along for moral support and out of curiosity as well. She had seen Bessie doing her “spatula twirling practice.”
As you may have figured out already, chickens are excitable, very excitable. So when I told Bessie that her first bake would be cookies for the annual Flute and Harp Concert at our church, a flood of questions followed.
“What kind of cookie will we make? What is a flute? What is a harp? What is a concert? What if nobody eats my cookies?” And, of course, “Will there be any chickens there?” You really do have to love Bessie.
So while I took out all of the equipment and ingredients, we discussed flutes and harps and music and concerts.
“Flutes make sounds like those little trilling musical notes you chickens make when you are very happy in the morning or at the end of the day. Those sounds let everyone know how joyful you are.”
Bessie and Gracie did a little trill for me.
Harps were a bit more difficult to explain. “Harps make sounds like the rustling of chicken feathers when you spread them out or when you are dancing. Those let everyone know how light and carefree you are.”
Bessie and Gracie rustled some feathers for me even though some of Bessie’s new wing feathers were still growing in because it was her time to molt.
They were so proud to learn the first songs ever heard on earth were probably sung by birds.
“So why do people need harps and flutes and musical instruments?” they asked in unison. “Why doesn’t your church just let birds and chickens come in and make a concert for you?”
With my most thoughtful and solemn expression, I replied, “I believe it has to do with fire codes.” That seemed to satisfy them, at least for the time.
Both were very excited when I brought out two mixing bowls which had belonged to my grandmother. These were decorated with what looked like a raised feather pattern and were therefore perfect for Bessie’s big baking adventure.
Gracie found a nice place to perch on top of the flour canister so she could observe but not be in the way.
Bessie was eager to begin working with real ingredients like pecans and cream cheese. She watched. She helped. She chopped. She mixed. She got cookie dough on her beak and tasted. She looked in the pantry and suggested adding coconut because “Julia Child said a great chef needs to be inventive.”
She trilled with happiness. She danced as an expression of how light and carefree her heart felt. She gave me her own kind of concert without ever knowing it. Bessie baked from her heart.
We were all convinced her recipe would be an absolute success.
When I got home from the concert and went to tuck them in for the night, everyone was still wide awake. All six chickens wanted to know what everyone thought of Bessie’s Best Ever Nesting Box Brownies.
My chickens were delighted to hear their intensely bright egg yolks had made Bessie’s culinary invention come out so yellow some people thought they were actually lemon bars, not pecan and coconut bars!
They also wanted to know how I enjoyed the concert, and I let them know in all truthfulness how a chicken or two would have made it perhaps the most memorable concert ever. They nodded unanimous agreement and trilled a few bars for me with feather ruffling.
My Life With Gracie taught me good cooking is like a song you can taste.
I will do my best to post each Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Every “Like,” “Follow,” and “Comment” is truly appreciated! Watch for Bessie’s recipe later this week which she will be illustrating!This is the first post from a series. You may want to skip to the next post about Bessie’s dream of being a master chef.