Indulgences are good to the Last Crumb
When you buy a costly cookie, you just might find something priceless
I spent over 150 bucks last week on a dozen cookies. Was it worth it? Absolutely, but not because the cookies were great, although they were. It’s because they fulfilled a basic human craving, something more powerful than even a sugar high.
One of the most insidious things about COVID is how it has robbed us of the joy of looking forward to something. Not completely, of course, but you can’t plan a trip or wedding or party without bringing up words like “vaxxed” and “tested” and “ventilation.” We’re a bereft Whoville in “How the Grinch Created Omicron.”
But we still have friends, and one posted on Facebook about Last Crumb, where you sacrifice your patience and your wallet for the sake of your tastebuds. You sign up for their emails, then get a heads-up about the precise time of the site’s weekly sale (sometimes tweaked near Valentine’s Day). It’s almost always a dozen cookies, all different, no options, and if you can’t close the deal within a minute or two, you’ll go away empty-stomached.
But when the friend said they were the best cookies he’d ever had, I was hooked. So what were they like? They say a picture is worth a thousand calories …
And I’m not even a fan of macadamia nuts. But these were scrumdiddlyumptious — and big enough to share (about 4 inches in diameter). The dozen has flavors from chocolate lava to lemon, red velvet to blueberry, peanut butter to Donkey Kong.
No, the last one isn’t made out of gorillas, real or animated. It’s the nickname for banana cream pie, the “flagship cookie,” according to the 40-page brochure that comes with each dozen. “If tomorrow Zeus sent down a thunderbolt that sent our cookie factory into a blaze, and we could save one recipe, it’d be our Banana Cream Pie.”
I realize there’s so much packaging it could make Greta Thunberg toss her cookies, but it’s all part of making the delivery to your doorstep into An Event— not just a run-of-the-mill bag from a run to the mall.
Take the ingredients of the chocolate chip cookie, nicknamed Better Than Sex: “Three variations of chocolate: dark chocolate, rich chocolate and milk chocolate. A mix of both chips and chunks for textural variation. Carmelized butter based dough with the slightest hint of coffee to leave your tastebuds guessing. Maldon Sea Salt, just a pinch, to make you salivate and balance out the sweetness.”
I loved the cookie and the shtick, but I also loved how they reminded me of Maotai, a liquor I bought in China in 1983. Its flavor is, shall we say, an acquired taste. I’d drink a bit and then acquire anything in the world as a chaser, because no matter what, it would taste better than Maotai.
So, naturally, I brought a bottle home to share with friends. I’m an acquired taste, too.
My 20s were one of my seven hardest decades, but what helped me cope was taking a lot of international trips. It wasn’t just being awed by the Great Wall or the Pyramids or the Eiffel Tower, it was the anticipation of seeing so many great places — and even planning the little things, like having a Singapore Sling in Singapore or a decadent hot chocolate at Angelina’s near the Louvre.
If I were in my 20s today, I wouldn’t have that joy. A couple of my best vacations were cruises, which are basically dead in the water. And even if I did take the other trips, there would be as much anxiety as anticipation.
That’s why the cookies were so damn good. They were my 2022 bottle of Maotai.
Sharing Maotai didn’t have a whiff of anxiety. Just telling friends “this is the worst crap I’ve ever tasted” made it irresistible. Even if they hated it, it brought us together. It brought us joy.
The cookies weren’t wrapped with anxiety, either. Ordered Monday, baked and shipped Tuesday, delivered Thursday. These tasted way better, of course, but the anticipation was the same, the sharing was the same, the love was the same.
What do you have to look forward to? Maybe Paris is out of the question, but what about planning a hike with a friend to a place you’ve never been — or one you cherish? Playing tourist at Alcatraz or some other spot you’ve never seen? Splurging on lobster or caviar? Buying jewelry or artwork? Getting the $100 bottle of booze instead of the $30 bottle? Driving four hours to visit loved ones you haven’t seen since the pandemic?
If you’re drooling over the cookies but crying over your wallet, join up with three friends, buy the dozen for $40 each and cut each cookie into four pieces. It’s not about the cookies. It’s about the anticipation. It’s about the joy. It’s about the love.
There are lots of times when just having breakfast or lunch with a friend is the best part of my week — or month. If costly cookies nudge you and three friends to get out of your rut and get together, they’re worth their weight in gold.
One of my anxiety-free joys is looking forward to the next season of “Ted Lasso,” even though I’m not a soccer fan. There’s a saying in English soccer, where so many games are so close and so many dreams get shattered: “It’s the hope that kills you.”
Not this time. It’s the hope that makes me feel alive. And if the whole adventure ends with death by a dozen cookies, at least I’ll have a smile on my face.
Murphy Slaw
Something old: No, these weren’t the good old days, but here’s a bit of nostalgia anyway.
Something new: This guy has a way with words, and comes to the right conclusion.
Something borrowed: We’ve had lots of dogs and cats. Now it’s penguins’ turn.
Something blue: For those who are already playing a daily game of Wordle, Lewdle has a bluer hue. I don’t think the New York Times will be buying it anytime soon.