I was craving something sweet yesterday. But I didn't want to leave the house to get anything. Suddenly, I remembered that I had all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies...or at least I thought I might. I'm not a baker, and in fact tend to incinerate more than bake when I try, so it's not like I have chocolate chip cookie recipes just stored away for use whenever I feel the urge to make 'em. I had to pull out my Joy of Cooking to see.
Butter - check
Brown and white sugar - check and check
Vanilla - check
Baking soda - check (bought it last week after hearing the suggestion that a small amount in the boiling water for hard boiled eggs can help keep the shell from sticking, and it seems to help from what I've noticed)
Chocolate chips - check (two kinds!)
Flour - wah, wah, waaaah. NOPE! Fuck.
So I had just about everything I needed, except for the goddammed flour. I was so clooose! In fact, I was close enough that I decided it was my fucking destiny to make those cookies, come hell or high water. So I got dressed, and went to the store. Bought myself some lunch stuff while I was at it. (I had been planning on picking up one of the smoked turkey cobb salads at the Blue Moose, but I made one myself, and it was completely as delicious, if not more so, than the one at the restaurant. I am fucking awesome, dammit.)
After some issues with trying to figure out how to mix everything without a hand mixer (ours seems to have disappeared, so I used the mixer attachment on my stick blender instead, which got the job done with relatively little issue), I baked off my cookies, and I'm happy to report that they did not incinerate in the process! And they taste pretty damned good, to boot!
I'm thinking this is a sign. A sign that the baking gods have decided to forgive me for the cookie debacle of 1985, when I accidentally saw that the recipe called for 2 tablespoons of salt instead of 2 teaspoons. (Believe me, it makes a really big difference. Really, really big.) A sign that I can bake sweets that don't neccessarily have to come from a tube or get mixed out of a box. A sign that I might be allowed to make the world a happier place (if by the world we mean my mouth) thanks to my ability to measure, mix, and heat ingredients properly.
Leftovers are at my desk. Holla!