I was cleaning my room, when I came upon a forgotten set of plastic biscuit forms.
There was a rabbit, a star, a moon and other shapes.
It reminded me of Biscuit Friday tradition I enjoyed through my childhood.
Lets travel back in time…
It was Friday. Always.
Not any Friday though, but Friday before family meeting, special ocasion, or at least Friday when Mum had time.
First, Mum prepared the dough. Then, it was my turn.
I would snatch the rolling-pin, and roll, roll till the dough was really flat.
Then the forms where applied, till I had cut out dozens of little, cute shapes.
Did we throw away the scraps? No, of course not.
Mum would take them, roll, tweak and work – until she came up with a sculpture.
Part of the fun was guessing what would emerge. It was always something different.
By general, unspoken agreement it was always called The Biscuit.
Baking seemed to take really long, with me eyeing the biscuits in the oven every minute or so.
I was not finished yet.
Just before the baking was over, I would paint them with egg yolk to make sure they were properly shiny.
Then came the most difficult part of the process – not touching the biscuits before the weekend.
Keeping my hands away of that huge bowl was sure challenging.
When we finally munched on and enjoyed the biscuits, I made sure everyone knew how essential my help had been.
I will keep those old forms.
They will come handy in a few years, when I’ll introduce my (future) kids to the glorious tradition of The Biscuit Friday.
Dominika Styczyńska: Vegetable Corner