Once upon a time, there lived a classic princess in a classic fairytale kingdom. The princess wore classic pink ballroom gowns and classic sparkling diamond tiaras, and even carried around a pink wand which churned out classic spells every so often. The princess seemed to know that her world was too cookie-cutter and pop-up-book-esque to be real, so she set about one day to find some place a little less magical and a mite messier. Before she set out, however, she decided to bake a batch of classic chocolate chip cookies to bring with her, because who knew when you were going to run into angry dwarves and miserly hobbits along the road, and whose day wouldn’t be improved by a classic ccc as they were referred to in Hope Kingdom (or occasionally quadruple c’s, or c-to-the-fourth-power among the palace’s court mathematician).
So she tinkered around in the palace kitchen and half an hour later set off on her classic white stallion with the fresh cookies safely tucked away in her riding satchel. Instead of following the main road from the palace, she set off directly into the woods and rode up into the mountains, into dense trees. All of a sudden her horse sped up and she ducked close to the horse’s mane as twigs and branches whapped them. She urged the steed further up the mountain, passing snow-covered peaks and avalanche valleys. Finally, she was at the summit, overlooking a strange, flat land with obelisks and temples dotting its sandy expanses. “How different! How unusual!” she exclaimed, and led her horse down the mountain towards the new land. There she rode through markets filled with strange spices and shouting men and women holding up dead chickens and purple-seeded fruit she had never seen before. She wound through narrow, dirty passageways opening out onto palm-tree-lined promenades. She had almost reached the outskirts of the city when she was accosted by a bearded man holding a sabre.
“Stop! Who goes there?” shouted the man.
“It is I, Griselda,” said the princess, clutching her satchel a mite nervously. “Who are you?”
The man stepped back and raised his bushy eyebrows at her. “Who am I? I am Rinaldo, keeper of the city gate. Going in or out?”
Griselda looked around her, confused. “Well, really, I was just exploring. I’m not sure exactly where I’m going.”
Rinaldo narrowed his eyes at her. “We’ve had reports of extremely dull strangers passing through the city of late, boring citizens to tears…you wouldn’t be from that sterile kingdom place, would you?”
“Hey!” said Griselda, offended. “We’re not all boring!”
“Coulda fooled me,” said Rinaldo. “The last prince we had through here nearly talked my ear off about frogs and marching maneuvers.”
Griselda decided now would be a good time to break out her secret weapon. “Here,” she said, handing the man the tray of cookies. “I brought these from my kingdom. Try one, I think you could hardly call them boring.”
Rinaldo bit into the cookie. “Hmm…yes…these are pretty delicious. I guess this is one of those areas where classic can’t go wrong.”
“Ha!” said Griselda. “See?! Not boring!”
“Fine,” said Rinaldo. “But try one of these.” He handed Griselda a tray with a fresh pastry, dusted with powdered sugar, crisp and crackling. “A Belayan speciality.”
“Ooh,” said Griselda. She leant over and took a big bite of the pastry. “Hmm…very interesting…spicey and almost…savoury…meaty, even.”
“Yeah, that’s the pigeon,” said Rinaldo.
Griselda choked, spraying small pieces of puff pastry in the air. “Come again?”
“That’s right, traditional Belayan dusico, made with pigeon and raisins. Good, no?”
Griselda took a swig from her canteen, her eyes watering. “Yes, indeed. Guess that one’s next on my list!”
- Mix all ingredients together in the order listed.
- Roll and flatten into cookie shapes and lay on a baking tray
- Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit or until slightly browned.