25 June 2007

Oatmeal Cookies at Pride in NYC

The oatmeal cookies below were a huge hit at my friend's gathering as well as another big party on the roof of a gym to watch the Gay Pride Day parade in New York. Yesterday evening, my mother reminded me that the first time I experienced Pride was when I was in junior high school. Mom and a friend of mine watched Andy Wharhol wave to us from a window during the parade. Even at that young age, I knew this parade with all its colorful participants was something important and special.

The Pride parade has become such a big event now -- 6 hours more or longer. I'd completely forgotten that it was the last Sunday of June when I drove into the city to meet Thom for his birthday lunch. I'd arrived a bit early, so I walked around the neighborhood where we'd agreed to meet, the West Village. I walked up Greenwich Street to 15th Street, where the Chelsea Market is.

I'd been there before, but I enjoyed the treat of walking through the market, stopping to buy three pints of beautiful raspberries for a tart I plan to make and blog about here. I also bought a shiny, new, round tart pan with a removable bottom at the restaurant supply store. It's the first one I've ever owned, so I'm pretty excited about using it for an Altered Plates recipe.

Thom and I enjoyed a yummy lunch at The Village Den, then headed off to meet the others. I remarked that there was a bigger traffic police presence than I'd seen lately, and Thom reminded me that it was Pride day. The buzz was palpable.

Everyone at the gathering loved the homemade cookies. Other folks had brought store-bought cookies and donuts, but I was happy to see what a big impression the cookies had on these lovely folks.

It was so much fun watching the parade from a rooftop filled with gorgeous young shirtless men enjoying this celebration of freedom. We waved to all the marchers and float dancers, especially the beautiful cross-dressers singing to us in their gowns and short summer frocks. Of course, the handsome bodybuilders were great to see as well.

At the end of the day, buoyed by the excitement of Pride, I drove back to my suburban home in New Jersey, thinking how much the times have changed, yet how much they stay the same. The number of young, out people we saw was remarkable. On the other hand, the stroller set was not represented at all in any of the groups I could see from the roof. Regardless, I'm happy for my gay, lesbian and transgender friends, for whom every day is Pride day.

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