The recipe promised happiness, but only if followed on a full moon. My grandmother told me about her special cookies time and time again. I didn't understand why she only made them on nights with a full moon: after baking, they had to be left to cool overnight under the radiant moonlight. For some mysterious or magical reason, after this simple ritual, these cookies became delicious, so delicious that a single bite brought joy. Or at least that's what I understood.
Since my grandmother passed away, no one in the family has been able to successfully replicate the recipe. Regardless of the moonlight, the cookies I've made taste ordinary. I don't know what I'm doing wrong... Maybe the moon thing was just a superstition, and my grandmother had a secret ingredient she kept hidden somewhere.
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