#36 and #37 - Feeding Frosty

My 36th and 37th acts of kindness are separate instances of feeding my Uncle Frosty (John, but family calls him Frosty).  Frosty is a fan of barbecue brisket and believes some of the best in the world is at... wait for it... Dickey’s in Keller. I know, I know. He’s mistaken a I’ve even taken him to hard Eight, but he likes what he likes. On Monday I went to Dickey’s and bought him 2 pounds of brisket and enough barbecue sauce to float a goat. He was happy with his sandwich for lunch today, and I call that success.

The next act of kindness was sugar cookies. He doesn’t feel like it’s chrismtas unless there are sugar cookies with what was historically really crappy buttercream. My Papa was the cookie master and when he died Amy and I picked up the torch. We did insist on using really butter rather than Country crock, but otherwise the tradition remained alive. I’m not the baker in the family - Amy does a magnificent job at it and I gladly salute her in this arena. I went it alone this year and managed to pull together a couple dozen passable sugar cookies that he seems to appreciate. As my gym bag says “I did my best.”

My uncle is a picky soul. He is very particular and set in his ways. He loves me deeply and appreciates me, but he has a hard time vocalizing any of that. Tradition is important to Uncle Frosty, and I’m happy to do what I can to keep the spirit of Christmas alive in mediocre baked goods.

P.S. Don’t tell him I cheated this year and used a pre-made refrigerated dough. The buttercream was legit... that’s something, right?!