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Getting ready to start that holiday baking? Is the thought of mixing up bowls of ingredients for all of your favorite cookies and sweets overwhelming? Wouldn't it be great if there were a way to share those baking duties? How about having a cookie and ornament exchange party? You can share in the bounty of your family and friends' holiday favorites and only have to make one of yours.
The original idea behind cookie exchange parties is to share in a variety of goodies and sweets, without having to bake all of them yourself. As an extra bonus, you get to enjoy the company of your family and friends. Some hostesses have expanded the party to include a wrapped holiday ornament exchange. A group of 15 to 30 will guarantee an evening full of laughter, friendship, holiday spirit and, of course, cookies.
So, where do you begin? Here's my recipe for a successful cookie exchange, some of which has been adapted from my friend Cyndee's years of hosting people-pleasing cookie exchanges.
Choose a date
Select a date most convenient for you and your family. During the holidays, it's difficult at best to choose a date that will suit all of your intended guests. However, the earlier in the month you hold the exchange, the better are your chances of fitting into almost everyone's schedule.
Prepare your invitations
Once you have held a cookie exchange, everything will go smoothly. However, it is a bit confusing in the beginning. Have your invitations include the following information:
* Date, time, place
* What to bring:
* Three dozen homemade cookies
* An empty tray to take home your exchanged cookies
* A munchie to share on the munchie table
* A wrapped holiday ornament (no more than $5)
* Phone number or e-mail address for RSVPs.
What you provide
Arrange to provide all paper products and beverages for the party. It's also important to furnish a table large enough to accommodate many trays of cookies. As your guests arrive, direct them to place their cookies on the table. Also, designate an area for the munchies they've brought to share.
Cookie exchange
Here comes the part all your guests have been waiting for. Ask each one to pick up her empty tray and form a line. Each guest will follow around the cookie table, taking one of each kind of cookie until they all have been exchanged. This usually takes three or four visits around the table before all the goodies are claimed.
At the end of the evening, everyone leaves with a variety of at least three-dozen cookies, a new ornament to hang on their tree, and, of course, warm memories of the joys of friendship.
"This night is reserved for the girl-inside-the-grown-up. During weeks crammed with doing for others, this is one thing we gals do for ourselves."
A cozy circle of about 20 friends crowd into my living room, each selecting a small wrapped gift from a nearby pile before finding a seat.
We have spent most of the last hour in my kitchen, chatting and sampling the potluck offerings. The tastes of orange chicken, artichoke-spinach dip and grape leaves are still a recent memory. Cups of sherbet punch and a few glasses of something a bit stronger dot the end tables.
The reason for this gathering is the annual recitation of the book, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. This holiday ritual, the highlight of my cookie and ornament exchange, requires each woman to read a page from the Dr. Seuss classic, and then pass the book to her left. The rest of us listen attentively, waiting for "Grinch" to be said aloud. That's our signal to send the present balanced on our lap to the gal seated to the right.
Eventually, every voice is heard. Not until after "the Grinch himself carves the roast beast" do we open our gift and delight in a new ornament to hang on our tree. In these few moments, the spirit of the season transforms this room full of mothers and grandmothers into children of wonder.
My original intention for hosting this shindig wasn't benevolent and pure, though. It was practical and a bit selfish. I wanted to have an abundance of holiday sugar cookies, fudge and popcorn balls to serve my sons as well as any friends and family who happened by. Also, I didn't want to have to convert my kitchen into a bakery to accomplish the task.
I borrowed this shortcut-to-homemade-cookies-and-candies from my across-the-miles friend, Cyndee, 15 years ago. I liked her idea so much, that I started my own version. It's a pretty good deal, too. In exchange for bringing three-dozen homemade cookies, an appetizer to share, and a wrapped Christmas ornament, I provide the locale, some beverages and an atmosphere conducive to friendship.
My guest list combines football, baseball, soccer and cheerleading moms, PTA members and ladies who know where there's a sale on just about everything. It's not beyond any of us to have twisted an arm or two while selling fundraising candy bars. Most of us have stayed up late, gluing the final planet on our child's science project. On this special evening, however, we put our maternal mojo aside, take off that domestic goddess sash and replace it with an imaginary tiara reserved for wide-eyed lasses.
For three glorious hours, no ref whistles coming from the ball field will interrupt our conversations. There is no ballet practice to attend. No one needs a ride to piano lessons. There is no ballpark nacho cheese sauce caked under our fingernails. No one is asking the whereabouts of his backpack. It is my time to chill and to be me—not just mom.
Sure, you might overhear the younger mothers exchanging potty training tips. It's guaranteed the boomer moms are showing photos of their grandchildren. For the most part, though, this night is reserved for the girl-inside-the-grown-up. During weeks crammed with doing for others, this is one thing we gals do for ourselves.
After the laughter has died down, and many hugs have been exchanged, we get down to our official reason for getting together. Outfitted with smiles and empty trays, the ladies line up to begin a slow parade around my dining room table. It's covered with an array of pecan crispies, gingerbread men, slices of cranberry loaf and lemon squares. Minutes later, cookie crumbs, traces of powdered sugar and a few wayward nuts are all that's left. The room buzzes with excited voices of women ready to take this year's bakery loot home to those folks waiting up late for a taste.
I admit that by bribing our families with snickerdoodles, baklava and brownies, we've gotten away with this boondoggle for a decade and a half. However, if this culinary venture buys me a girls-night-in, surrounded by long-time and newly formed friendships, I'll happily stash an extra bag of flour and some chocolate chips in my pantry. Make time for yourself this holiday season and enjoy some girl time!
