brown butter snickerdoodles

Friends, it’s snickerdoodle season. If you didn’t know that snickerdoodles had a season, let me paint a picture for you: you’re coming inside on a blustery and colder-than-you’d-expected October day so you hadn’t dressed for it and you can’t wait to announce what my kids always laugh at me for saying when I walk through the door: “Well, that’s enough doing things for me today!” and forswear things like “being outside” and “hard pants” for the rest of the evening but what is this! What is this god-like aroma of buttery baked cinnamon sugar warmth that has permeated your senses? Is it a scented candle, i.e. the idea, but not the substance of a thing you love? No, it’s snickerdoodles. And you’re about to eat a warm one, which feels like climbing inside It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown while also, simultaneously, getting to be this dog. I’m not saying you cannot experience this sensory transcendency on a day in January or June, but it hits on a different, worldview-shifting, level when cold air is still a novel thing.
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