The Great Raisin Revelation

There are always adjustments when you enter a new relationship.  One of the ones that I faced when I first moved in with Mrs Struction (sorry, that's Dr. Mrs. Struction) was her strange ideas about oatmeal cookies.  She actually thought that they were supposed to have raisins in them.  What was worse, when I attempted to show her the error of her ways, to educate her to the true path of the oatmeal cookie, she resisted.  You see, in my household, I had memories of the occasional oatmeal raisin cookie, but the one true additive was the mighty chocolate chip.  

"Oatmeal and chocolate chips don't go together," she would say.  I was dumfounded.  Of course they go together.  

And what about those raisins? Those abominations against cookiedom had ruined many an otherwise enjoyable baked good.  The firmness and structure of the cookie was ruined by those squishy sacks of pulp.  Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against raisins.  I'll eat them by the handful, but something must happen to them in the cooking process.  I've never been able to take them in baked goods.

Over the years, we reached a fragile detente.  I found the the oatmeal cookies she would make weren't so bad as my memories of them had been.  "I don't understand," I'd say, "I thought I really hated raisins in cookies. I mean, their not chocolate chips, but these are...ok.". Then she would hide the rest of the batch from me lest I eat half of them before she could take them to work for her coworkers.  On her side, she would refrain from hurtful comments when I would make "right and proper" oatmeal cookies.  

It was several years before I came to understand the nature of my partial transformation from a raisin hater through grudging acceptance to some level of enjoyment.  We were visiting my mother and I had just gone out to fetch her mail.  There was a small package.  "Oh good, my raisins have arrived."

Long confused pause.

     "Raisins?"
     "Yes.  I ordered them last week."
     "You mail ordered raisins?" At this point the only reason I could think of to order raisins online was for something like organic, free range raisins, hand picked by maidens and sun dried on fresh linens made from raw, organic flax.
     "Yes," she says.  "They're baking raisins.  I could make my own, but this is less of a hassle."  She then explained to me That there are two different classes of raisins: the dry edible kind meant for human consumption, and the plump, squishy sacks of slime intended solely for desecrating otherwise perfected edible baked goods.  At least that was how I heard it.  The details may be a little different.  She further explained that you could make baking raisins by soaking regular raisins for some undisclosed amount of time, but that was too much of a hassle.  

So now you see my epiphany.  How had I lived in a house with this woman for nearly 20 years and never caught on to the fact that she was leading some sort of double-raisin-life?  Why had no one told me of this before?  I understood.  It wasn't "baked raisins" I hated, it was "baking raisins".    It was all finally so clear.  This revelation came as news to Mrs Struction too, which explains why I found her raisin-contaminated baked goods at least palatable.  

Hmmm.  A possible compromise has occured to me: oatmeal raisinet cookies.  I think I have some baking to do.