Melt the butter with the squares of chocolate in a microwave-safe bowl on HIGH for 2 minutes. Stir to see if the chocolate has melted. If it isn’t, microwave it again in 30-second increments until you can stir it smooth. You can also melt the butter and chocolate in a saucepan on the stovetop at MEDIUM heat, stirring frequently.
Hannah’s 1st Note: If you cut the one-ounce squares of chocolate in half, they’ll melt faster.
When everything is melted, take the mixture off the heat
Combine the white sugar and the brown sugar in a mixing bowl. Stir, or mix with an electric mixer until they’re a uniform light brown color.
Add the eggs, one by one, mixing them in after each addition.
Mix in the vanilla extract, and beat the mixture until it’s light and fluffy.
Mix in the salt and the baking powder, and beat until they’re thoroughly combined.
Mash the avocado until it’s a smooth puree. Measure out a half cup. Add it to your work bowl and mix until it’s well blended.
Feel the outside of the bowl containing the butter and the chocolate mixture. If it’s not so hot that it might cook the eggs, add it to your mixing bowl.
Add the flour, ? cup at a time, mixing after each addition. Continue to mix until the dough is smooth and well-blended.
Remove the bowl from the mixer and stir in the chocolate chips by hand. Stir until they’re evenly distributed throughout the cookie dough.
Drop the dough by rounded teaspoons onto greased cookie sheets, cookie sheets sprayed with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray, or cookie sheets covered with parchment paper.
Hannah’s 2rd Note: I covered my cookie sheets with parchment paper—it was a lot easier!
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 13 to 15 minutes, or until the cookies feel dry when LIGHTLY TOUCHED on the top. Be careful doing this. They will be very hot. If the very top of the cookie feels dry, take them out of the oven immediately. Like brownies, you don’t want to overbake them. (Mine took exactly 14 minutes.)
Cool the Sinco de Cocoa cookies on the cookie sheet for 5 minutes. This will firm up the bottom. Then remove the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
Yield: 4 to 5 dozen delectable, chocolaty cookies that taste silky smooth and rich.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: I’d say that Sinco de Cocoa Cookies are so rich that nobody can eat more than one or two, but the last time I took a baker’s dozen (that’s 13 cookies) to Granny’s Attic as a special treat for Mother and Carrie, they finished them all at lunchtime and called to ask me for more!
Chapter Five
“These are really good, Hannah.” Lynnette popped the last bite of cinnamon roll into her mouth and gave a sigh of satisfaction. “I don’t even feel guilty for breaking my diet.”
“Uh-oh.” Hannah went on red alert. She’d dieted before, more times than she wanted to count, and she certainly didn’t want to tempt anyone to stray from their weight-loss plan. “I’m sorry, Lynnette. I should have asked if you could have a cinnamon roll. I just assumed that everyone wanted one, and ...”
“And I
“Is it a weight-loss diet?” Michelle asked.
“Not really, but how much tofu can you eat? It’s just something my friend Cammy talked me into trying when we started traveling with the band. Maybe it’s time for a change, anyway. I’m sick of eating nothing but tofu and vegetables. You don’t happen to have an extra one of those cinnamon rolls, do you?”
After leaving another roll with Lynnette, Hannah and Michelle went up the corridor, dispensing their delectable wares. When they came to the end, they still had one pan of cinnamon rolls left, and Hannah turned to Michelle. “Why don’t you find the nurses and give them some? A lot of them came in early, and they probably didn’t have time to eat.”
“Good idea.” Michelle looked down at the cart and assessed the contents. “I think I’ve got enough,” she said.
“If you don’t, go back to the kitchen and get the cookie bags. That’s why we brought them in. There should be enough to give cookies to everyone in the waiting room.” Michelle turned to go, but Hannah called after her. “Just don’t bring the box with the Sinco de Cocoa Cookies. They’re for later.”
Hannah watched as Michelle pushed the cart down the hall. After her sister had disappeared around the corner, Hannah stood there in the middle of the corridor, unsure of exactly what to do next. She supposed she could check on Buddy to see if he’d enjoyed his cinnamon roll, or perhaps she could go back to the emergency room to ask Bertie if she needed any help with the patients. She was just considering her options when the decision was made for her.
“Hannah?” One of the nurses came bustling up. “Your mother wants you. She’s in treatment room seven. By the way, those were great cinnamon rolls.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said, walking down the hall toward the adjoining corridor. She had no idea what her mother wanted, but it was bound to involve something that would keep her from her condo and her bed when that was the only place she really wanted to be. She turned the corner at the end of the corridor, started down a second corridor that veered off at a ninety degree angle, and spotted Delores about twenty feet ahead, just emerging from one of the treatment rooms.
“Mother?” Hannah rushed forward to put her arm around her mother as Delores slumped heavily against the wall. Her mother’s complexion was the same color as the all purpose flour that Hannah used at The Cookie Jar, and the makeup on her face stood out in sharp relief.
“Hannah,” Delores said in a trembling voice. She shook her head as if to clear it and took a deep breath. “I need you, Hannah.”
Alarm bells went off in Hannah head. Something was drastically wrong. “What is it, Mother? Are you ill?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? You’re shaking.”
“He’s dead,” Delores said, giving a sigh that seemed to go on forever. “I just looked in at him to see if I could bring him anything. And he’s dead!”
“Are you sure?” Hannah asked, preparing to go in and substantiate her mother’s words.
“I’m very sure.”
Hannah gave her mother a little hug. Delores was still shaking, and she looked as if she were about to pass out. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said in a comforting voice. “I know how hard this must be for you, but people don’t come to the hospital unless there’s something really wrong with them. Some patients are critically ill, and the doctors can’t save them.”
“I know that. You don’t understand!” Delores stared at her eldest daughter for a moment, and then she shook her head. It appeared to be a massive effort and she took several deep breaths. “You don’t understand!” she repeated.
Hannah held her mother tighter, afraid that she might faint. This was obviously the first time since Delores had started to do volunteer work at the hospital, that she’d come face-to-face with death. “I think I
