The Mighty Samoa

For a period in the late 80s/early 90s, I was a Girl Guide. And I got some mad skills because of it.

Like how to host a tea with my elders.

And sing in rounds.

And make bannock on a stick.

And if lost in the woods, I can recognize the Big Dipper, and, in a crude lean-to, watch it calmly, as I wait for wolves to arrive and feast on me.

Don’t get lost with me and my Girl Guide skills in the woods.

There was also the small business/pyramid scheme known as the cookie enterprise. And when I was a Girl Guide, there was only one kind of cookie we sold – vanilla and chocolate sandwich cookies. And while those have their ardent fans, I was a little envious of our friends south of the border with all the different flavours. Thin Mints (which we eventually got, and I horde in the freezer). Tagalongs. Samoas.

Ah, the Samoa. My Pinterest feed continues to be flooded with pins by friends coveting the Samoa.

Caramel and toasted coconut and chocolate and shortbread.

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.

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Eh, what the hell. You’re welcome, kids.

I made them a little big. (My cookie cutter was a glass. Not that we’re complaining, right?)

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