Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(14)

Moishe studied her expression for a moment or two, and then he jumped out of the tub and ran into the bedroom. Hannah slid the glass door shut and hurried back to the phone. She had some apologizing to do to her downstairs neighbors.

She had been asleep for all of three seconds when it happened again. Hannah got out of bed and dragged her cat out of the bathtub. She remembered sliding the glass door closed, and that meant Moishe had managed to claw it open. Sterner measures had to be taken.

This time Hannah didn’t bother to shut the glass door. Moishe would only claw it open again. Instead, she closed the bathroom door and hoped that she wouldn’t run into it when she got up out of the sound sleep she was hoping to get before morning. Unfortunately, it was morning. One glace at the lighted display of her alarm clock told her that it was ten after three. The term hellcat took on new meaning for her as she crawled into bed and attempted to go back to sleep for the hour and minutes that were left before her alarm clock went off.

She was just drifting off when she heard it, a determined scratching at the bathroom door. That conjured up visions of new paint jobs and perhaps even a new bathroom door in Hannah’s mind. Moishe obviously wanted to run more laps in the Bathtub Grand Prix, and he was bound and determined to claw, bite, or tunnel his way in.

Hannah gave a little groan and sat up. She’d been awakened from a sound sleep twice in one night by the ungrateful feline she’d taken in from the cold Minnesota winters, kept healthy with regular vet visits, and fed good nutritious food every day. She’d even bought him his own expensive feather pillow, and she let him snuggle under her comforter. She felt betrayed, and that made her angry, but getting annoyed at Moishe wouldn’t solve her problem. She had to calm him down before he found another noisy pastime that would bother her neighbors.

There was only one action to take, one thing that would managed to calm her hyperactive pet so that he wouldn’t cause trouble. She flicked on the light, shut off the alarm that would sound in a little over an hour anyway, and headed for the kitchen to put on the coffee. She’d pretend it was morning and feed Moishe. And once he was fed, he’d probably nap on the back of the couch. By then it would be too late for her to try to go back to sleep again, so she’d mix up a batch of Raisin Drops, the new cookie recipe her friend Lois Brown had sent her from Phoenix, and bake them when she got to The Cookie Jar.

RAISIN DROPS

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

1? cups raisins (I’ve used regular raisins, and also golden raisins—they’re both good.)

1? cups water (right out of the tap is fine)

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3? cups all purpose flour (don’t sift—just scoop it out and level if off with a knife)

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

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1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, ? pound)

1? cups white (granulated) sugar

3 eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

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Approximately ? cup white (granulated) sugar for later

Hannah’s 1stNote: Hank, the bartender down at the Lake Eden Municipal Liquor Store, suggested that you could soften the raisins in brandy or rum, instead of water. (I used water.)

Put the raisins and the water in an uncovered saucepan. Simmer them on the stove until all the water is absorbed. (This took me about 20 minutes.)

Move the saucepan to a cold burner, or on a potholder on your counter, and cool the raisins for 30 minutes. (If you’re in a hurry, you can speed up this cooling process by sticking the pan in the refrigerator until the raisins are approximately room temperature.)

In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder. (I stir mine gently with a whisk so that everything’s mixed together.) Set the bowl aside.

Hannah’s 2ndNote: I used an electric mixer for this part of the recipe. You can do it by hand, but it takes some muscle.

Cream the softened butter and sugar together until they’re light and fluffy.

Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat until the mixture is a uniform color.

Take your bowl out of the mixer and blend in the raisins and the vanilla by hand.

Fold in the flour mixture carefully. The object is to keep the dough fluffy.

Put approximately ? cup sugar into a small bowl. Drop dough from a teaspoon (or Tablespoon if you want large cookies) into the bowl of sugar. Form the drops into balls with your fingers and move them to a lightly greased (I sprayed it with Pam) cookie sheet, 12 to a standard-sized sheet.

Bake the Raisin Drops at 350 degrees F. for 9 to 10 minutes, or until just lightly browned.

Lois Brown’s Note: I bake just a few at first to make sure there’s the right amount of flour. If they spread out too thin, add another Tablespoon or two of flour. I have been making this recipe for my family for 40 years.

Yield: 5 to 6 dozen deliciously soft raisin cookies.





Chapter Five


Hannah lowered the driver’s window of her cookie truck to enjoy the gentle breeze wafting off the far shore of Eden Lake. Even though the gravel road around the lake was showing wear from the tourists who’d towed heavy boat trailers and campers, she took the ruts at a fast clip to outrun the mosquitoes. She’d been through enough Minnesota summers to know that if she slowed to a crawl, the insects that some people called the Minnesota State Bird would descend on her arm in hungry hordes to gorge on a luncheon of A negative.