\u23f1 ~3 min reading<\/p>\n\n\n
Sofiyka had been standing next to her grandmother in the store for five minutes, pulling her by the sleeve toward the shelf with sweets.<\/p>\n\n
"Grandma, just one box. Look, with a bunny on the lid. Everyone at school has one like that.".<\/p>\n\n
Grandma looked at the box. Raspberry plastic. A bunny with big eyes. The candies inside were pink, yellow, like tiny balls.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Sofiyko. Let's do something ourselves today, shall we?<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 What?<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Cookies. I have butter, flour, sugar at home. And also strawberry jam, from last summer.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka looked at the box. Then at her grandmother. The candies sparkled.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Grandma, well\u2026<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Try it. If you don't like it, I'll buy it next time.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka sighed. They left the store without any candy. On the way home, Sofiyka was silent for a while.<\/p>\n\n
When they entered the apartment, Grandma immediately went to the kitchen. She turned on the oven. She put a bowl on. She took a yellow stick of butter out of the refrigerator. She poured in the flour.<\/p>\n\n
"Come here. You will be my assistant.".<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka stood on a stool. The kitchen smelled of a warm oven. Grandma showed her how to rub butter with sugar - so that it became fluffy, like cream. Sofiyka dipped her finger - sweet.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Now flour. Little by little.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka poured it in. Grandma kneaded the dough with her hands. It became smooth, yellow, and soft \u2014 like a pillow.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Now the most interesting thing.<\/p>\n\n
Grandma took out small molds. Star. Heart. Moon. Chamomile.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Choose which ones you like.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka chose them all. She and her grandmother rolled out the dough, cut out the cookies \u2014 in rows. In the middle of each \u2014 a drop of strawberry jam. Red. Thick.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 And now \u2014 into the oven.<\/p>\n\n
After fifteen minutes, the kitchen smelled so good that Sofiyka couldn't stand still. She wanted to try it right away.<\/p>\n\n
"Wait. It's hot.".<\/p>\n\n
When the cookies had cooled a bit, Grandma put one on a plate. A little heart. In the middle was a strawberry drop, like a red star.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka took it. She took a bite. And froze.<\/p>\n\n
The cookies crumbled in your mouth\u2014soft as snow. Warm. Sweet. And the strawberries\u2014like summer bursting on your tongue.<\/p>\n\n
"Grandma. Grandma, this is..."<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 What, Sofiyko?<\/p>\n\n
"This is tastier than candy. This is the most delicious thing in the world.".<\/p>\n\n
Grandma smiled. She sat down next to me. She took a chamomile.<\/p>\n\n
\u2014 Do you know why? Because a machine works in the factory in the candy. And in the cookies, your hands. And mine. And the strawberries that I picked in the summer in my grandmother's garden. You taste it \u2014 and you taste summer. And our hands.<\/p>\n\n
Sofiyka ate another one. Then another. Then she put some on a plate \u2014 for mom and dad when they came.<\/p>\n\n
Dinner was late. Mom went into the kitchen - it smelled of warm butter and strawberries. There was a plate of cookies on the table. Sofiyka was already asleep on the sofa, with her hand full of crumbs.<\/p>\n\n
The following week, Sofiyka asked her grandmother again. Without a word about the box with the bunny.<\/p>\n\n\n
\ud83d\udca1 The most delicious thing is what is made with love.<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n
Sofiyka asked for store-bought candies in bright wrappers. But grandma suggested baking cookies instead \u2014 regular ones, with butter.<\/p>","protected":false},"featured_media":3341,"template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"yasr_overall_rating":0,"yasr_post_is_review":"","yasr_auto_insert_disabled":"","yasr_review_type":"","rank_math_description":"","rank_math_title":"","rank_math_focus_keyword":""},"class_list":["post-2451","istoriya","type-istoriya","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"acf":[],"yasr_visitor_votes":{"stars_attributes":{"read_only":false,"span_bottom":false},"number_of_votes":0,"sum_votes":0},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istoriya\/2451","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istoriya"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/istoriya"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3341"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2451"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}