More Cookie Cutters than Macy's

November 21, 1999

More Cookie Cutters than Macy's

I don't remember when I became a cookie cutter collector instead of just a user or enthusiast. I had to have every cutter I saw. Unlike shopping for software, I never bought duplicates because I knew each one I had. There came a day when the only way I could get certain ones was to buy them from the manufacturer, in wholesale quantities of course. I do remember that day, and the realization that I seemed to be going into business. There were no flea markets then, nor yard sales, but there were immense auction markets, where the management auctioned things, and other merchants had tables, indoors or out as their wealth and seniority allowed. Markets were open from 4:00 P.M. to midnight. In most families father took the one car to work. In commuter families, about 95% of our town, mother took father to the train, did housework and errands ( and played "Bridge) until the kids got home, fixed dinner and met the train. Then there was time for the family to go to a market. My best friend's family was the only one I was aware of having two cars; a Studebaker for the father to drive 40 miles to work, and a real Tin Lizzie for the mother to use. She cranked the engine just like in the movies. By the time of my merchant days many families, including my parents, had two cars, but we didn't. Myfather took their big car to work, and Mother let me use her Renault on market days.

I went to the nearest market to ask about a table. "'Do you sell or do you pitch?" the boss asked. I had to ask what he meant. I think if you were going to pitch, i.e. holler, i.e. hawk your wares, he wanted to locate you far from his auction space

At the height of my market career, I checked and counted and found that I had more different cutters for sale than Macy's, which then always advertised itself as the world's biggest store, and you didn't have to ask which Macy's in which mall.

Two events cured me of my addiction. One was that cutters proliferated and were so common that it was no challenge to look for them. There were a lot of ugly designs too. The other event was that I was carrying ninety dollars (wholesale) worth of cutters in large boxes on the way to my table, and fell over a parking lot border phone pole. I was determined to get my money back on that purchase, and determined to get the rest of the $70 we needed for a red Schwinn bicycle for the approaching Christmas. The Wharton School grad in the house insisted that no one could do business with a 60% markup, but I did it anyway. The cutters cost me 4 cents and I sold them for 10. I was not about to pick a price that would cause me to make change.

Fortunately it was a proper crystal cold Christmas coming sort of night that anesthetized the broken bone in my elbow. I sold cutters madly until midnight, and we got the bike, but that was the end of marketing. Three of us broke bones that winter and when we were all functional again we moved from the world of suburbs and markets and mobs, to this haven with four acres on the side of our own mountain.

From then on until nutrition mania set in, the cookie cutters were used as intended, to make cookies, not just to collect. When the world suddenly decided that cookies were not good for you, the collection went to the attic. There are several hundred. The greatest are hand made metal ones, gifts from Friendly Cooks. There are scores of commercial metal ones and hundreds of plastic ones. Some of these were so badly designed that they didn't work. I noticed today, searching for the muffin man, that Prince Charming still had vestiges of ancient dough stuck in his narrow trouser leg lines. Apparently it not only wouldn't release the cutout cookie, but the dough couldn't even be scraped out.

However, most of the plastic ones made perfect cookies. Mother and I worked on the recipe over and over until we developed one that was pleasant to eat and at the same time held its shape so well that all the details on the cutter stayed through the baking. We started with a recipe from my first cookbook, a Royal Baking Powder publication called Anyone Can Bake, NY, 1928. Market customers would buy one cutter with great skepticism, take the free directions and recipe, and come back the next week to get more cutters because "Hey! It worked."

If I write much more of this I will end up making Christmas Cutout Cookies again, nutrition or no. If I choose shapes without skinny extensions, they will pack well and travel safely to the new Marine grandson.