Better than best?
We made cookies the other day. I've become lax in my old age, or perhaps my harried life as working mom to three kids and wife to a kidney-stoned invalid, so we went the cookie-mix route. Just add one egg, one-third cup oil, mix, bake, enjoy the extra inches on your thighs. I've taken to checking out the baking aisle whenever I go grocery shopping, just to see if the brownie and cookie mixes are on sale so I can stock up. You really should check them out, easy bonding time with the kids, minimal mess. Fabulous. The sweets usually go to waste, we can't eat them all, but it's fun making them.
A and N helped make these peanut butter cookies. A, newly-ish three, has only recently developed her attention span enough to be interested from start to finish when helping out in the kitchen.
While enjoying the first batch of warm, soft cookies, A proclaimed, "Mommy, these are the best cookies ever, plus friends!"
Definately. How better to improve perfection than add a bit of love, eh?
posted by Katherine Zander @ 9:14 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
my neighbor brought me over some warm, soft, oversized chocolate chip cookies for my post-birthday.
good friends. they know i like them gooey, almost like dough, so her husband undercooked them.
now THAT'S friendship!
e+
Mmmmmm, soft chewy cookies, a culinary goal I have yet to really achieve. Fish, unbroken pie crust, and chewy cookies - not my best fields. I'll try the underbaking -worth a shot.
I had a zoology teacher in high school, a real Hottie, although I don't think I had so much of a crush on him as just a he-makes-eviscerated-fetal-pigs-that-more-interesting kinda "thing" for him. His persistent affect on me must explain why I didn't hesitate to dissect Carl the goldfish for my daughter the other day when he died. "Dear, do you want to bury him or flush him?" "I want to see his brain!" ANYWAYS, back to Mr. Rankin, he loved chocolate chip cookies and promised extra credit for anyone who brought him some. I didn't need any extra credit (I really got to know that pig rather well), but I brought in home-baked, Tollhouse cookies from scratch. They were rocks - I could barely bite into them, and chewing was an exercise. I swore off cookie baking for awhile after that.
If only we had had this conversation back then.
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