Cookies for Kids' Cancer: All the Good Cookies

In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.

—ALBERT SCHWEITZER

If these pages could talk, if they could literally include my voice, or if I could personally jump through them into your kitchen, cup of coffee in hand, thumbing the pages to pick the perfect recipes for an upcoming Cookies for Kids’ Cancer bake sale, we wouldn’t just be talking about sweets . . . we would also be talking about change. Because in almost every way, everything in my life has changed since I wrote the introduction of our first Cookies for Kids’ Cancer cookbook.

Los Angeles, CA

Certainly, there has been good change. Since 2010 when I was working on that manuscript, Cookies for Kids’ Cancer as an organization has simply exploded. Every single year, the support for Cookies has doubled. We see the dream we had being realized: to create an easy way for people anywhere, of any age to get involved in pediatric cancer research. With a very small but very passionate team of people led by the indomitable Emily Fowler, who joined as a volunteer and then became our first employee, we see a difference being made in real time. In a million years, I never thought we would actually see the progress of science happening. For the first year or so bake sales were the name of the game, but now they’re just one way to “Be a Good Cookie.” People are inspired to run 5Ks and marathons, host pancake breakfasts and penny drives—and, of course, there are still bake sales from desk-side to city-wide happening consistently. And most importantly, because of this growth Cookies for Kids’ Cancer has been able to grant millions to pediatric cancer research.

But sadly—tragically—heartbreakingly, the change isn’t all good. When the manuscript for our first cookbook was delivered, Liam was 3½ years into his battle with cancer and was spending the hot days of the summer swimming for hours and hours in the pool with his beloved sister and best friend Ella. He was sun-kissed and happy, loving every moment of the warm weather. He was in the midst of climbing back from a relapse that spring, but all seemed right in the world. Then, in the weeks after turning in the manuscript to our ever-supportive editor, Justin Schwartz, things changed. Moments of fear turned into days and months of an endless battle against this cruel, cowardly, and unrelenting disease, with the ever-present focus on hope for Liam’s health. But for Liam, the happy ending we wanted was not to be. On January 24, 2011, our sweet son’s battle with pediatric cancer came to an end after four very long and very hard years. He was 6 years, 8 months, and 9 days old and ready to take on the world.

In the first days and weeks after we said good-bye to Liam, in the midst of unspeakable grief, one truth in my life became clear—even though I could not change the outcome for Liam, the battle wasn’t over. Suddenly, we weren’t fighting for Liam, we were fighting in honor of Liam and of all kids battling cancer today and tomorrow. The battle clearly changed, but the mission remained the same. While Liam was completely one of a kind, in terms of the world of pediatric cancer, our sweet pumpkin’s story is far too common. Pediatric cancer remains the number one disease killer of children in the United States. It kills more children than asthma, AIDS, multiple sclerosis, and muscular dystrophy . . . combined. It knows no race, creed, religion, or socioeconomic or geographic boundary. It attacks indiscriminately and with no reason other than a bad shuffle in the deck of life. Yet all types of pediatric cancers collectively receive less than 4 percent of the National Cancer Institute’s multibillion-dollar budget and an equally appallingly small amount of research dollars from pharmaceutical companies. It’s simply not on the radar screen of our government, private industry, or the general public—unless you’re personally connected to it.

Long Beach, NY

Prior to Liam’s diagnosis, my husband Larry and I would have never set out to launch a national nonprofit organization. But after Liam’s first few months of treatment, when he was declared to have “no evidence of disease,” we did set out to fight pediatric cancer on the fund-raising front because it was, quite simply, the right thing to do. It all started with the seemingly simple idea to bake a few cookies . . . 96,000 of them, to be exact. It seemed like a reasonable number because after battling cancer, anything seemed reasonable. With an army of 250 volunteers (some of whom knew each other, more of whom did not but who instantly became committed to a cause), we held one giant holiday cookie sale, raised over $420,000, and used every dollar raised to fund a new pediatric cancer treatment in development. But even before the ovens had had the chance to cool, we realized that maybe those cookies could fill a void in the world of pediatric cancer, by adding a sweet spot in an otherwise all-too-often bitter and devastating topic. Typically, it’s left up to the mommies and daddies with children battling pediatric cancer to also raise funds to support new therapies for the disease. But with Cookies for Kids’ Cancer, our goal is to inspire change by giving people everywhere ideas on how to come forward as Good Cookies and raise funds in an all-out fight against this demon.

West Seneca, NY

And we are making a difference. Already, Cookies for Kids’ Cancer has helped jump-start dozens of new research projects. By the time this book comes out, another round of grants will have been awarded. As one of Liam’s oncologists said to me, “It’s not science that’s holding us back, it’s funding.” The first project those 96,000 cookies helped fund is now a treatment children are receiving. Other projects will soon move from the lab to the clinic. And one of the grants awarded in 2011 was to a project named by Discover magazine as #10 on the Top 100 Scientific Stories of the Year. Together we can make and are making a difference in the battle against pediatric cancer.

Amagansett, NY

But for today, it’s really all about the cookies in this book. And my belief is that with these recipes the difference we’re making is only the beginning. I truly believe in the magic of cookies and the magic of this book. I hope it brings the same magic to your kitchen that Liam always brought to ours. He loved to bake, and outfitted in an apron and baker’s hat, he loved every step of the process, from standing over the mixing bowl to decorating his finished cookies and cakes. He would have loved this book.

It’s impossible to look at the recipes and not be inspired to fire up the oven. Each recipe was developed by friends of our family who just happen to be professional chefs and who stepped up to share their love of Cookies for this book. In addition to developing most of the recipes, our dear friends Fraya and Jackie tested and retested every recipe for this book. “Aunt” Fraya and “Aunt” Jackie, as they are known in our home, are so much more than amazing bakers—they were Liam’s friends and caregivers to our family through every step of this journey. And they want these cookies to create magic for pediatric cancer research.

And the pictures—have you seen the pictures of the cookies yet? Just thumbing through the book makes me drool, but it also makes my heart burst with joy and love and gratitude for the incomparable Lucy Schaeffer, who lovingly and diligently spent a week finding the perfect light for each picture to make the cookies look simply irresistible.

Edwardsville, IL

Palos Verdes Estates, CA

And you can’t miss the plates, napkins, tags, and bows in the pictures, the handiwork of my dear friend and knock-your-socks-off stylist Michelle Rotman Jassem, who once again offered up her home for a week to serve as our photo studio. It was from the heart that she selected every color and every prop to make sure the cookies were the stars of the show. You’ll notice more than a few references to the color orange. Liam’s love of orange came early and his passion for the color never wavered or waned. He loved its happy disposition and bold statement.

When it comes to food styling, there is nothing like watching an artist at work. Cyd McDowell is one you want to just sit and watch as she creates mouthwatering treats. And Sarah Abrams, who stood by my side baking thousands of cookies back in the early bake-a-thon days, was standing by Cyd’s side making sure everything was picture-perfect.

Boonton Township, NJ

Santa Monika, CA

This book has both heart and soul. The heart can be found in the stories and pictures shared from just a handful of the thousands of events held across the United States and in a baker’s dozen of countries around the world. If we had our way, we would have shared the story of every event. But time and space dictated we select a sampling from Good Cookies of all ages who have found a way to get involved and make a difference in the lives of children. Use their words to inspire you. I know they have inspired me to keep moving forward with determination knowing that change is coming, one Good Cookie at a time.

As our family moves forward, there is continued hope for every child battling cancer. One of Liam’s favorite sayings was, “If not NOW, when?” In honor of Liam and in honor of every child—the ones battling cancer today and the ones who will be battling cancer tomorrow—let’s be a part of the change NOW. Thank you for your support.