"Shelby! Come down here. I need your help," my mom yelled from the kitchen.
It was just before Christmas. I was bundled in a sweatshirt sitting at my computer desk in my childhood bedroom playing the Sims 2. Though I claimed to be doing homework. Classic.
"What do you need?" My teenage self said as I shuffled into the kitchen.
But I didn't really need to ask after I saw the surface of the 10-foot island. It was covered with with cutout, unbaked gingerbread. The uniform shapes formed lines on long sheets of parchment paper waiting for their finishing touches.
"I need you to roll penises," she said, hunched over the counter.
An odd request? For most maybe, but not for me. It has been my mom's holiday tradition to bake/create anatomically correct gingerbread people since before I was born. I was accustomed to her month long bout of mass-production, an annual ritual that many looked forward to.
"So take this much dough," she said during her tutorial. "And just roll between your hands until it looks like this. Then set it on the gingerbread men." Tah-dah. A perfect sized gingerbread penis created in a matter of seconds.
"Okay." I was less than thrilled, but her enthusiasm lit up the room. I took a bit of dough and began to roll it between my palms. It was thin, long, uneven and just not right.
"Let me see," she said. "Oh that's way too big. That's up near his shoulders. Try to roll it a little above his belly button. Try it again," she said, always a true perfectionist. "Then you can pinch it, and poke a hole in it with a toothpick."
"You can do that part," I said unenthused.
I wasn't thrilled, as you could imagine, by having to redo the work and by the work itself. It was difficult and intricate. I wished I was back upstairs playing my computer game. But family bonding is important, right?
She first started making them when she worked at The Whistle Stop Café in Georgetown, Connecticut in the 80's. The original task was to make quintessential gingerbread, which she did. But like the marble block that became MichaelAngelo's David, my young not-yet-mother looked at the unshaped dough and saw something more. Her twisted sense of humor led to the formation women gingerbread; she rolled two boobs, and stuck a raisin between the crease of their legs. She sold the special gingerwomen under the table to customer's that were funny with a off-beat way about them. She didn't decorate them much, I don't even think they had hair, but the patrons would laugh and play with them anyways, like they were the Barbie's they never knew they needed.
Over the years she got better and better. She created male gingerbread, she improved upon her design and had more time to dedicate to the finer details. Now the women had long hair, boobs, some had butts and wore thongs. The women sometimes wore pearl necklaces, had belly rings and even pubic hair, but the classic raisin remained in style for old times sake. Meanwhile the new male edition had nipples, chest and pubic hair and sometimes a trail of white icing across their belly—if they had gotten too excited. They had berets, hats, red/green covered booties, thongs.
In time she found the right tools to help perfect the anatomical aesthetic. The pubic hair for example, how did she get it so fine? She ran dough through her garlic press. For the longest time she would roll the women's hair, but then she found some of our old playdough tools. After she ran it through the dishwasher it made for lucious, but easy long hair.
And boy, I wish you could've seen peoples faces when they first set eyes on these anataomically correct gingerpeople. They sure made her PTA meetings more interesting. Over the years word got out and people began to place orders, giving them to others as gifts. But I was lucky, I had an 'in' with the maker and got them for free. She sent me back to Brooklyn with some when I worked on the Gotham film set. I gave them to actors, the hair and makeup crew, the producer I worked for and even to a teamster who said I'm going to eat this from the bottom up. They are the ultimate NOT PC holiday gift and always brought unique and surprising responses.
There are even special edition gingerpeople. Like the naked body builders she made when she frequented the local gym, or the wet t-shirt-clad women made cheering on the Giants for the 2008 Superbowl. She even turned some of the gingerpeople into Christmas ornaments. She also started making 'behinds' to give a full 3D gingerperson experience.
Production slowed down over the years. As you can imagine being a one-woman-army making each component makes for back, shoulder, and neck breaking work. Not only all the details, but making the dough, cutting them out, rolling all the parts, baking them and then icing on decorations. Exhausted yet? My mom was seriously dedicated to her Christmas craft.
This year is the first time she has made them in years. She isn't as meticulous or industrious as she used to be. But the photos speak for themselves, she has nothing more to prove. What started as a funny idea turned into a Christmas tradition people can never forget once they know. And to think it all started out as a holiday gag.
These are quite the interesting looking cast of gingerbread men and women😁
Jason
I always ordered these wonderful gingerbreads. They were perfect. 😍 your mom was very creative and for sure she needed all the help she could get. Thank you sharing and reminding me . Does she still do them in Florida?