It’s raining off and on here today, the weather is kinda crazy for this time of year anyway, and J-man had the afternoon off and was bored.
Now, my son loves to bake and I love him, so I just feign enthusiasm and reach for the flour and oatmeal. I sigh a deep sigh while entering the zone of doom, trying very hard not to think of all the things I could have done instead.
I really don’t like to bake. Is it too obvious? And here’s why I don’t like to bake: I suck at it.
Even when using a recipe straight from a book (Ultimate chocolate cookie book this time), meticulously following all the steps, those darn cookies just come out all messed up. Heck, I couldn’t bake a decent cookie if my life depended on it. There. I’ve said it.
Now I’ll show you.
We started our recipe with a seriously bored child, which is a key ingredient in my world.
It started out so good. Honey, butter and vanilla, what’s not to love?
Followed by a few other crucial ingredients. I didn’t even tweak the amounts. I tweaked nothing! I stuck to the recipe.
Maybe that’s where I went wrong? Never stick to a recipe.
It was right here that I gradually started to get that pesky feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
I stubbornly ignored it, kneaded a bit more, shrugged my shoulders and chilled the dough for 30 minutes.
While I unwrapped my beloved dark Hershey’s kisses.
I scooped the dough onto the baking mat and, just as the book told me to, flattened the cookies halfway during the baking process.
Leaving me with terribly dry, crumbly cookies that fall apart when you even as much as glance at them.
Sigh. Deep sigh.
The flavor is phenomenal, though, so I’m not giving up… gonna tweak this darn recipe and get a decent cookie out of it, if it’s the last thing I do!