There’s a war on sugar cookies, and it’s not just my keto diet, although I all but completely abandoned my sugar-free lifestyle for the yuletide season when I saw these delicious floofs of sugary dough and frosting spanning all colors of a pastel rainbow on seemingly every end-cap in grocery store bakery aisles.
I’m talking about the simple, yet dazzling, Lofthouse-style sugar cookies that spike in popularity this time of year. They are delicious. They are sweet. They are adorable. And this is not up for debate.
Still, several store-goers and cookie enthusiasts have each taken their sweet tooth to social media, either against or in defense of these darling and delicious delicacies.
This war on sugar cookies is said to have begun with a 2017 tweet, from whom I will refer to as the Scrooge of All Things Delicious:
“Its that time of year again when stores sell these bottom of the barrel, flavorless piece of shit things they have the nerve to call cookies [sic].”
To which others who agree tweeted:
"I hate em too sis. you ain't alone [sic]" and "these lowlife ass, crumbling as soon as you pick it up ass, crumbling to dust if you breathe on it ass, cookies."
So, listen up, Scrooge of All Things Delicious, and other anti-delicious things takers to Twitter, we need to reevaluate your standards of, and discuss all facets of, The Cookie, and add some sugar to your bitter lives. Do you even dream of sugarplums?
Made from, I can only assume, the tiny hands of marshmallow people who live in rainbow lollipop clouds, these treats come in flavors like bubblegum, birthday cake, hot cocoa, or simply plain, old-fashioned sugar flavor, which is just fine on its own, thank you very much. And to those who argue that "sugar isn’t a flavor": Sugar is technically a flavorant, according to sciencedaily.com, meaning it adds to flavor. Our cookies in question are topped with white or colored, putty-like frosting and usually some generic or holiday-themed sprinkles. They tantalize, they beckon your salivary glands and they deserve respect.
I don’t write about food (this is a rare exception, of course). I don’t really cook, and I go to the same restaurants in my neighborhood over and over. I’m just your average appreciator of all things delicious. And as someone with a mortgage and a toddler, I don’t always have the time or money to buy my sweet treats from artisanal bakers. Which brings me to this point: these sugar clouds of sweet delight typically run about $3-$5, so those arguing over their legitimacy in Cookie Land need to understand that they are good for what they are.
As you approach each cookie, let the late, renowned film critic Roger Ebert explain this concept to you, regarding Adam Sandler movies, from an excerpt in Forbes: “I often practice a generic approach to film criticism, in which the starting point for a review is the question of what a movie sets out to achieve. The Longest Yard more or less achieves what most of the people attending it will expect. Most of its audiences will be satisfied enough when they leave the theater, although few will feel compelled to rent it on video to share with their friends. So, yes, it's a fair example of what it is.”
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Small? Check. Sweet? Check. Round? Check. Flat? Check. Crisp? Well, four out of five of the primary criteria of what makes a cookie isn't bad. But we will add our own and perhaps the most important criteria: goes great with an ice-cold glass of milk or a piping-hot mug of coffee? Check and CHECK.
What these cookie-making, rainbow lollipop cloud-dwellers set out to achieve is a delicious and soft cookie, which couldn’t be more refined and processed, and clock in at 26 carbs and 16 added sugars. But our little bakers achieved that goal. There’s, obviously, not one iota of nutritional goodness to them –– just pure and simple, gluttonous joy, for just a few bucks, and unapologetically sweet.
These controversial Lofthouse-style cookies in question are like the Play-Doh assortments we made as kids and, secretly, wanted to eat (is that just me?) but knew we shouldn’t. Now we can. And that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.
Can we all agree to save this sugar-tinged and needless controversy for candy corn?