Tag Archives: cookie

TWD: still breathing….

Yup.  I am still around.  I have been lurking a bit but not baking much.  If I start relaying how crazy this summer was and how I never meant to take an extended break, I probably won’t stop for 37 pages and we still won’t have discussed TWD.  While lurking, it came to my attention that TWD will be finished by the end of the year.  I started baking along in April 2008.  That is a lifetime ago in some respects (and about two weeks ago in others).   The point is…it’s a long time to bake along and not finish.


So, I am finishing.  I wish I could say that I had today’s flip over plum cake to report on but we ate all the plums in 2.6 seconds.   I will make it though, along with a few others I missed, and, if all goes according to plan (hollow laugh), I will even post about it.

For today, I can report that Colin (above – shiner courtesy of playground roughhousing) and Will enjoyed the classic brownies.  I tried a small bite but not enough to make a definitive conclusion about them.   They seemed dandy but Dorie has enough good brownie recipes that I probably won’t go back to these soon.

I also made the salt+pepper cocoa shortbreads.  Salt+pepper+sweet is exactly the kind of weird food I love.  I, therefore, could only make half a batch and immediately took all but one to work.  If they hadn’t been shortbread (eh), I probably would have devoured them in the car on the way.  What I tasted I did like and will probably crave until I breakdown and make a bowl of dough and eat it standing at the kitchen counter.

All pictures will be iphone photos now officially.  The incredible “hassle” of downloading photos has thwarted more than blog post in my past.  So, I officially give in to my laziness. 

I am really going to make an effort to be back next week and the week after that.  Get used to me folks.  I am sticking around for awhile.

TWD: Chipster Topped Brownies (a long overdue idea)


From the what-took-them-so-long-to-come-up-with-this file:

  1. Flavored toothpaste for kids
  2. Resealable raisin bags
  3. Velcro sneakers
  4. Clorox/Tide pens
  5. Flip top soup cans
  6. Chipster-topped brownies

 Let’s face it.  There are things in life that you appreciate but you can see how it took a lifetime to discover them.  We couldn’t go straight from three channels with no remote (not including youngest child in the room, of course) to DVR complete with caller ID on the TV (praise be!).  Other things, however, seem so obvious it is shocking that they weren’t around sooner.  We didn’t have DVRs in the 70s but we had flavors for crying out loud.  Why we were all stuck with mint toothpaste is a wonder.  We had Velcro long before parents were freed from the daily hourly burden of re-tieing a four old’s sneaker.   My purple Trapper Keeper was really the best use for the stuff?



Following this train of thought, it came as a complete and utter shock for me to realize that I entered middle age** before I had ever had brownie and cookie together.  Really?  These aren’t at my local bakery much less produced and waiting for my children at the local convenience store?  Shocking.   Dorie missed her chance for millions I think.


Cookie + brownie + ice cream = all swimsuits happily in the trash

Clearly, we enjoyed these.  Some members of my family really enjoyed them and they were gone by nightfall.  No joke.  Patty put them on her Dorie top 5 list (which seems a wee bit bigger than five these days, but I am not going to nitpick when it comes to positive feedback).  The differences between the layers weren’t as pronounced as I thought they would be but I don’t think it mattered in the end.  We will definitely make these again.  I should probably go for the gusto and make a whole batch next time but I am not sure they would last any longer.

Thanks to Beth at Supplicious for an awesome recipe!  The full recipe is at her site.  Check out the other brownies here.

** Splicht.  Plooey.  Splatt.  It is difficult for me to write middle-aged but, since 74 seems firmly in the senior citizen camp, I suppose I am obliged.  Reluctantly.

What happens when you turn your attention to the cookie layer…


TWD: A loophole the size of Lake Michigan


Um…how to put this without sounding blasphemous…what was the point of these cookies?  The answer to that one completely escaped me.  I suppose it has more than a little to do with the fact that I am just not a big fan of butter cookies.  Still.  They had a generous helping of coconut but you couldn’t taste the flavor of the coconut (frankly, a plus for me) which brings us back to the original question.  We added coconut just for the subtle texture?  They weren’t attractive or even consistently unattractive.  Some -from the same baking sheet!– looked sort of like shortbread while others (see below) didn’t look like anything appealing.


Shocking that there was no photo of these in the book…

Posters on the P&Q commented heavily on the appearance but generally seemed to love the flavor.  I didn’t have high expectations but I left out the nuts to give them a fighting chance with my nut-averse taste buds.  And you know what.  They were fine.  Just plain old fine.  The husband and son #1 liked them well enough but there were several in the cookie jar a full two days later.  And I only made half a batch.  I really cannot envision when or why I would make these again.  As easy as they were, the effort still outweighed the result.  C’est la vie.

Clearly one of these so-so cookies wasn’t going to hold me for the week.  So, I opened another loophole.  I decided a rewind recipe counted for my weekly TWD.  It is an official TWD recipe and I do not consider one raggedy butter cookie an official serving of dessert by any stretch of the term.  I am treading dangerously close to Patty territory here but I stand by that logic.  My belly full of Gooey Chocolate Cake and ice cream will back me up.


(terrible picture taken at night before cake hastily eaten)

If the Gooey Chocolate Cake (and ice cream!) is the price of admission to hell, book my trip.  And, who are we kidding?  Everyone who knows me in the least realizes that the Lent thing for me is convenient form of self-discipline and nothing more.  A way to get back on track after a long indulgent winter.  The religious underpinnings are far from my mind.  So, I am not going to hell.  Woo hoo.

If you haven’t made these, get on it.  Now.  Tonight.  I know you have the ingredients in your pantry.  They take about 8 seconds and are guaranteed to make any day better.  Even Colin ate one.  Need I say more?

Thanks to Jayne of the Barefoot Kitchen Witch for picking a cookie where you can’t taste the coconut.  Next week:  Banana Cream Pie!  April should be a doozy.

TWD: Brotherly love

photo-711(It isn’t laziness as much as forgetfulness.  I only remember the camera is broken on Sunday when it is time to take these pictures.  I did call someone about it yesterday, so there is hope.  This week you get laptop pictures…in the dark.  Bonus.)

There is snide remark that all parents hear at one time or another.  “You aren’t real a parent until you have more than child.”  This certainly seemed like BS to me before I had kids.  I am an only child and my parents certainly did parent-y things like making me eat vegetables, clean the bathroom, and say please and thank you.  There was also the minor business of instilling values, providing comfort and, you know, paying the bills and stuff like that.  I wasn’t writing checks to KCP&L.

After I had my first child, I realized it was just utter nonsense.  When my 9month old had pneumonia?  That sure seemed like parenting.  Ditto for when his forehead made “friends” with the corner of  a glass table at 17 months.  (why must all head injuries look like you have just eaten a hand grenade regardless of the severity?)  And let’s not even get started on his absolute refusal to recognize daylight savings time which resulted in the oh so convenient wake time of 4:50am every f*&#*$^ morning during the summer of ’03.


BUT, and you knew there was one coming, parenting one is different than parenting two or more.  Until I had two boys, I had no idea how peaceful my house was growing up.  Sure, there were disagreements among the three of us but none that started as “wrestling” matches and ended with slugs and tears.  There weren’t toys “dropped” in anger or screaming matches over TV shows (usually just snide remarks when my mother insisted that Murder She Wrote was “the only show I watch all week,” which, unless Jessica Fletcher grew a mustache, moved to Hawaii and lived in a mansion** or had a detective agency with her charming but feckless brother, was most assuredly not her only tv show.  one tv and no cable, people.  we couldn’t just let her get away with it).


So, I am constantly amazed at the speed in which innocent playing can morph into internecine battle.  They can be the greatest of friends and the greatest of enemies and back to friends in the space of a Tom and Jerry cartoon.  World peace is a grand idea but most days I would settle for peace on the homefront.  I try to avoid bribing my kids with food (most of the time) but nothing quite settles the mood like a good sweet treat.  As long as there are equal shares for everyone, sibling rivalry is mostly dormant during snack time.

And they most definitely enjoyed snacking on these babies.  For the record, the grown-ups liked them, too.  I didn’t have any big issue with crumbly dough.  I was feeling quite pleased with myself until everyone on the P&Q attributed that to overmixing.  Whatever.  The cookies looked and tasted just like I thought they would.  They were fab and I will definitely be making them again.  I baked off the first log during the Super Bowl.  I got no pictures and no objections when I offered to bake the second log Monday night for photo purposes.  Another win for Dorie!

photo-700 As unspeakable as this log looks, it didn’t stop me from taking a bite…or two.

Thanks to Jessica of cookbookhabit for choosing a great one.  The full recipe is on her blog.  Next week:  Floating Islands.  Dorie says in the headnote that they aren’t difficult….and then proceeds to spend a page and half detailing the 837 steps involved.  If I have to bust out the thermometer, it ain’t child’s play.

**My husband thinks Higgins was Robin Masters.  Thoughts?  Comments?