Square-shaped happiness

I owe a debt to my Grandma. Little does she know, she's won me scores of friends over the years. In addition to that, she's been the bearer of great happiness, for me and for others, since before I can remember. Great, square-shaped happiness.

I don't know where or when the recipe for what came to be called "Grandma Specials" was first conceived. All I know is that they've been a staple of Schulman family gatherings my entire life, making notable appearances for Thanksgiving and Chanukah. I grew up anticipating the collection of round holiday tins that would be carefully packed with the rest of my Grandma's belongings during her annual trek west, and their steadfast presence on the dessert table during our annual family trips to Florida. It took me awhile to realize that the "Jewish brownie-like dessert," for lack of better descriptors, that my cousin had named as a little girl, were not universally known, consumed, and adored. Luckily, through my frequent travels, I've been able to do a bit of Grandma Special propagating, introducing their culturally transcendant goodness to the rest of the world.

My first Grandma Special converts were during my freshman year at Carleton, and making them became a dependable bribe/thank you for four years. During that time I also took them south to Chile, which won me friends and caring host family members. Most recently, I brought them along to Spanish Thanksgiving, a gathering of about 15 people, Americans and otherwise, on what was otherwise a normal Thursday night in Andalucía. As would be expected, they beat out pumpkin pie, apple pie, and tiramisu (brought by an "otherwise"). Then, about a week ago, they formed part of my present for my "amigo invisible" (Secret Santa) at the school where I teach. I'd decided to give the teacher whose name I'd drawn one ingredient a day, individually wrapped, labeled in both English and Spanish (and with both imperial and metric measurements...or at least approximations thereof). On the last day, along with the part of the present I actually spent money on, I gave her the recipe, handwritten in English and Spanish, along with a note about how important it was to me and my family (all on a lovely handmade notecard provided by an outside source...). The next day, a series of teachers came up to me and gushed over my present and how original and thoughtful it had been. The teacher who'd received it seemed ready to cry when she was thanking me, promising that she was going to make them the next day. Another teacher informed me that a group of teachers was now eager to take me out for drinks and to hang out after the holidays. Yay for bribing my way to friends!

Thanks, Grandma.