Anyone else remember dark blue round tins filled with rustlely paper cups holding heaps of differently-shaped butter cookies? I do. They were incredible. They were the most perfect, melt-in-your-mouth cookies, each piped into delicate swirls or rolled in sugar or printed with a stamp. And they were impossible to eat just one of, in fact, it was customary to eat a quarter of your body weight both before and after the family dinner, resulting in greater rotundity and probably a stomach ache. I did push this limit one year and ate nearly an entire tin all on my own which had the disastrous consequence of feeling queasy everytime I saw…
