If there are two great tastes that taste great together, they’ve gotta be cookies and ethnically-based origin stories.
To wit, in Solomon Gursky Was Here, Mordecai Richler relates the following tale:
“The first man made by the Great Being was a failure,” Ephriam said, “he was imperfect, and therefore was cast aside and called kub-lu-na, or kod-lu-na, which means ‘white man.’ Then the Great Being made a second try and the result was the perfect man, or Inuit, as the people call themselves.” (34)
When God made man he had to cook him in an oven. The Black man he cooked too much, and the White man he didn’t cook enough. Us Indians he cooked just right. (125)
And a conversation with my mother-in-law leaves us with the following narrative (somewhat modified in my re-telling):
God made the first people in an oven, like gingerbread men. When she made the first tray, the people were under-baked, so she dropped those White cookies down in Europe. When she made the second tray, the people were burnt, so she dropped those Black cookies down in Africa. With the third tray, she was extra careful, and those people came out perfectly – slightly browned and delicious. She gently placed them down in the Philippines, where they live to this day.
The last time I made cookies, my first attempt came out a bit under-done.
My next attempt came out (perhaps you guessed it) a bit too well done.
As I put the third tray in, I said, “I sure hope these come out Filipino.”
Cue so much laughter from Jim Jim that I felt sure the Internet would find that anecdote equally amusing.