We Are Not Worthy, Recipe Included

My younger brother and I are quite proud of the measures we took in our youth to outfox Mom: particularly in the devouring hidden sweets without being detected department. Reading this, I realize we were pikers. We couldn't even have qualified for the competition. In search of the best chocolate chip cookie in the world, these boys:

once found them in the garage of the people who lived next door. (Their kid, our mole, tipped us off for a paltry three cookies.) Over the years we found them at the bottom of the clothes hamper in the master bath, behind a box of motor oil in the garage, in the trunk of her car, under the camouflage of towels in the dryer, behind the set of World Book Encyclopedias in the den, even taped in coffee cans and stuck up under the kitchen counter concealed behind the disposal unit.

Once, in her despair, she actually sealed them in a large container and buried them behind the shrubs in the back yard. We found them by checking carefully for disturbed earth, and that night snuck out after our parents were asleep, disinterred them with a trowel, ate them all on the spot, and then buried the container again with a Crayoned note that said, "Delicious, The Avengers." We were bludgeoned with meatloaf sandwiches in our school lunchboxes for a week after that one.

Recipe follows post and is preceded by a nice little hymn to American greatness just for "added value."