Thursday, December 15, 2011

Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pies

I thought I'd open this post with something I like to call: Show the Terrifying End Result of the Story in Order to Lure in the Audience. I'm a big time Hollywood producer now. NBD.

See what you've got here is fucking horrifying. It's carnage. It's utter destruction. But I don't know if you see what I did there...See I showed you a little banana cream pie beacon of hope too. I was worried you didn't see that. What I did there. Just...stay with me. I swear it's worth it. And if it isn't, you got a tour of my kitchen for your trouble. IT'S SO ROOMY.

I'm the first one in the world to say this so take a seat. I have really fantastic ideas in the shower. Sure, they're typically overshadowed by the OMIGODMYHEADISBLEEDING moment when I forget that's just red hair dye going down the drain, not my brains. (It might be my brains though too?) But if an idea can get past that hurdle, it's a keeper.

And so, I offer you The Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pie. Courtesy my thought process when I'm nakey. 


I've been trying for 3-5 minutes to figure out how to properly describe these little goodies. Nothing's quite right but I think I'm close.


I mean, wow. Wow wow wow. But more of that later.

First things first, I prepared my browser for the evening. I set my bookmarks to Full Throttle. I'm in it to win or something.


Then I made something that looked remarkably like a turd.

You should be on your way out, not in.
Part of my stroke of genius was to make a double chocolate chip banana cookie for the whoopie pie. This was a mistake. Don't do this. They don't whoopie pie very well. Stick with your everyday banana chocolate chip cookie.

Hey! You! You don't belong there!
I can't eat you when you're there!
While the much more delicious banana chocolate chip cookies were baking, I got started on the custard. This is crucial to my whoopie pie cause. Because a banana chocolate cream pie without custard is like that horrible bitch in high school without her good looks: some bananas in some crusty shit that will probably wind up pregnant with a bastard child 1-3 months after graduation.

Much like the man in the moon,
there is usually a dinosaur in the custard.

Then came assembly time.

What you've got here is your typical Molly Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pie set up. See, you've got one side being all vanilla custard-ed up with the world's thinnest slice of banana nestled inside like a little tiny banana present. Then you've have the other side, see, slathered in chocolate cream. What happens next will simply blow your mind.

Oh I'm sorry. I should have said something.
And so we've made our way back to the beginning. The filthy, filthy beginning. I HOPE YOU SEE WHAT I CLEARLY DID THERE.

Fun side note: I weighed myself consistently during this endeavor because I live alone and my scale is 12 footsteps from my oven so I'm allowed to do these things. I gained a pound and half from beginning to end. Sure, I also drank 20oz of Diet Dr. Pepper but that's the amount of Diet Dr. Pepper that could be inside my body at any given moment. My scale has adjusted.

You makea my dreams come true.
Ooo wooo. Oo oo.


TASTE: 5/5 I can't reiterate this nearly enough. Holy fuck. I ate the shit out of one of these whoopie pies. And I don't even like whoopie pies. Hell, I don't even like eating all that much. I would have eaten all of them, but I think I'm having a heart attack?

EASE: 3/5 These weren't hard to make, just kitchen consuming. What with the mixing and the custarding and the assembling and sometimes I wish I had an underpaid, under appreciated, overworked helper monkey to do my biddings. All I have is a stupid dog. I'm going to go kick around some dirt while staring at my shoes now. 

FILTH OF KITCHEN: 10/5 May I direct your attention to the aforementioned video documentation of said filth? I might as well set fire to my apartment. I will never be clean.

DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: I don't understand what is up with my dog. Half the time I was making these, he was "stuck" in the closet whimpering slightly. It sounds cruel of me to not help him and to put quotation marks around his apparent situation but he wasn't stuck. The door of the closet was open. That's how he got in in the first place. He just couldn't figure out how to get out. I don't know what else to say. The other half of the time, I was pretending he was invisible. 

IMPRESS-O-METER: 5/5 I mean, I had this idea in the shower, you know? Who thinks about baked goods in the shower? Who thinks about anything other than "can I get by without shaving my legs today" in the shower? Who has the time! I do. Plus, I put a real pie into a fake cookie pie. I win.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Vegan Blueberry Muffins

Hey guyz! It’s me! Molly! And I made some muffins, yo. I’ve also started ending my sentences with yo, yo. Things have really changed since I last posted. (Yo.)

I'm so excited to not see you in person!

In my hiatus from baking and blogging, I’ve been fixated on a dazzling array of things. What’s that? You said you want to read about these things in list form? 

  • Those new Ford commercials? With the press conferences? With the new Ford owners? They claim to be real? The fuck? The fuck. IAMNOTSTUPIDFORD. America is not stupid, Ford. Why do you treat us like we are so stupid? Is it because we look stupid? You are such an asshole. Now let me buy a Ford or twelve.
  • I’ve haven't baked anything since moving to my new apartment. This is especially silly because my oven is really shiny and, like 12 brand new Fords, shiny = high quality. Also, my apartment is tiny (456 sq ft tiny) and the smell of fresh baked goods would certainly fill the space much lovelier than the smell from my garbage disposal.
  • Blueberries taste yum.

Blueberries are so expensive that they should print cash on blueberries
so cash would have more value and save our economy.
Yall can stop occupying Wall Street now. I fixed it. 

So this evening I did something about these things. I made some Vegan Blueberry Muffins. Why vegan blueberry muffins? For the same reason I've made other vegan things... Because lay off my case. That's why. Also milk makes me feel yucky. Please don't tell anyone. I have to maintain my strong facade. I wish I'd never italicized the word "vegan" earlier in this paragraph. 

Can we talk about this recipes "wet mixture" instead?

I almost wish this was animal insides.
So it'd be less disgusting looking.

It's like anything but an animal bled into that bowl. Amiright?

Here. Have some streusel.

Streusel doesn't make anyone feel yucky!
No one!

Have you met my friend Streusel? It's like that natural exfoliating face wash you keep in the shower that, whilst washing off your freshly exfoliated face, tempts you to "forget" to close your mouth and taste a lot little of? Yeah. Just like that but double the brown sugar and imitation butter.

Do you want a nest of sugar and oats topping your muffin
or should I get used to telling you what's good for you?

So longest-story-in-the-world-ever short, these muffins are delightful. Like your sister but not the one that sucks, the one you like. Will you be my sister?

I can't wait to destroy you.
De. Stroy.

If you'd like to find the recipe (A SISTER WOULD DO IT), it was unceremoniously stolen from Delicious Sweets. And made slightly sugary-er. JK. I threw a lot more sugar into it.


TASTE: 3.75/5 Bitches be yummy, yo. (THINGS ARE SO DIFFERENT NOW.)

EASE: 5/5 The hardest part of this recipe was taking a large bowl out of the dishwasher when it was still relatively hot from the drying cycle. So basically, it was the toughest.

FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: -5/5 Ok, get a load of this shit. I actually cleaned my kitchen so I’d have room to make these muffins. Stop raising your eyebrows in disbelief. You’ll get wrinkles and you’ll be ugly and no one will love you.

DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: You know, ordinarily I’m sure he would have but currently he's focusing all his energy towards being afraid of his dinner bowl. I - I don’t understand. It’s like he told me he smells toast and had a stroke.

IMPRESS-O-METER: 5/5 Every time I take a bite of these muffins, a songbird flies through my balcony door and thanks me personally for not harming any of his animal brethren in the making of these baked goods. To be honest, I’m afraid of birds and I want them out of my apartment. But they refuse to stop tipping their tiny bird hats at me and I don’t have a broom to chase them out. Apparently, this is my life now.

Also, I cannot WAIT for my surprise press conference. I am going to make ALL the jokes.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Flour-less Cakes: Part 2...Clementine Cake

Part 2
Clementine Cake

If you don't have this song stuck in your head the entire time you make this cake, you're doing it wrong.

In fact, if you don't get an urge to listen to a lot a lot of Bright Eyes in general while you make this cake, you're probably just doing life wrong. In general.

Maybe this should be named the Bright Eyes cake? Just kidding. That's dumb. This is the Clementine Cake. Because it's made out of 5 entire clementines, not 5 entire Conor Obersts. Although that would be really, really, adorably delicious. In a crooning hipster sort of way. WHEN WILL I GET MY CONOR OBERST CAKE?!?

Apparently, some other psycho beat me to it. Typical.

Anywho. Back the most important point of this post that isn't Conor Oberst. The search for the perfect flour-less Passover cake. And so, I give you the Clementine Cake.

Hello Yummy Texture. It's me, Molly.

I found this recipe once again at Smitten Kitchen thanks to the helpful Passover-Friendly Dessert Recipe Suggester. So helpful!

This cake is yumcity. I think I say that a lot about a lot of things but it is really very good this time. I promise. It's clementine-y, yes. But mostly, it has a delightful texture thanks to the heaping amount of ground almonds. It's just about perfectly sweet and probably would be satisfying for breakfast. Or mushed up and constantly pumped through your veins like a drug. One or the other.

I bet all of Conor Oberst's children I plan on carrying would looking really cute iced onto these mini cakes.
Chocolate portrait style.

  • 4-5 clementines
  • 6 eggs
  • 2 cup plus 1 tbs sugar
  • 2 1/3 cups ground almonds
  • 1 heaping teaspoon of baking powder
  • confectioner's sugar for dusting

  • Go on with your bad self!

    1. Get a big old pot out, toss the clementines in, and cover with cool water. Set it on the stove and boil your little clementines for 2 hours. Remove, drain, and set aside to cool. Slice them open, remove the seeds and chop up into smaller pieces to put in the food processor. Process until smooth-ish. Set aside.
    2. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Prepare whatever size pans you're using (I used 2 1/2" ish, 5", and 6" because I'm just crazy like that) by greasing them and lining the bottoms with a piece of parchment paper.
    3. Beat the eggs. Add the sugar, almonds, and baking powder. Mix well, adding the chopped up clementines.
    4. Pour batter into your prepared pans. Set in the oven for 30ish minutes or until the top is lightly browned and a toothpick comes out dry.
    5. Remove from the oven and cool on a rack. Once cooled, take out of the pan and dust with confectioner's sugar if you see fit. (I saw fit.)
    I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
    Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile.

    RATE ME!

    TASTE: 4.5/5 I don't really like citrus. I really hate the smell of fruit being juiced. But the smell of it baking and the taste of it in baked goods really makes me happy. This cake was no let down in the happy tasty department.
    EASE: 2/5 This gets a low ease rating simply because of the whole two-hour-boiling-clementines thing. That's a couple hours too many to boil clementines to make an otherwise simple cake. Just saying.
    FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: 4/5 It was pretty disgusting but not nearly as bad as the flour-less chocolate cake mess. That...that was just terrible and I don't want to talk about it ever again so please stop bringing it up.
    DID THE DOG EAT THE BATTER: Little dude was on fire today! And later, his butthole might be on fire :/ Not because he ate heaping amounts of pureed whole clementines that dropped on the floor but because he ate HEAPING amounts of pureed whole clementines that dropped on the floor. Double :/ What a guy. I love him.
    IMPRESS-O-METER: 4/5 You know what? I don't even want to call it flour-less. That's amateur or something. I'm going to call it Gluten-Free. That's right. I went there. I impressed every person in the world who can't eat anything that tastes good ever. Sorry Gluten-Free folks. That must be the worst. But hey! This cake uses whole clementines! Eh? Eh?

    Tuesday, March 22, 2011

    Flour-less Cakes: A Love Story in Three Parts

    That Time I Decided to Make a Bunch of Flour-less Cakes

    Occasionally on this blog, I bring up the very true fact that I am a Jew. I made hamantashen and told you all the story of three-cornered hats (it's Jew-talk...don't worry about it). My first venture in bread baking was challah because duh. So what's this getting at? Passover's coming up soon!!!!!!(!!!!!!) And Passover is my (only) favorite Jewish holiday! So in an effort to find recipes for my mother to slave over help plan our upcoming seder, I went about researching flour-less cakes. Because here's the only thing you need to remember about Passover food: that shit better not have ever risen a day in its life. Because Pharoh. And the Jews. And the desert. And Pharoh again. RESEARCH TIME!

    Epilogue to the Preface

    My fellow Jewess blogger, The Awesome Lady Over at Smitten Kitchen, compiled an extremely helpful list of flour-less Passover friendly desserts. I decided to tackle three of her flour-less cakes while putting my own little spins on each of them. All in the name of science. And research. And my expanding waist line. But mostly, PASSOVER!

    The Jews didn't have yeast in the desert but they definitely had melted chocolate.
    They weren't heathens.

    Part 1
    Chocolate Flour-Less Cake
    with Espresso Whipped Cream and Raspberries

    Use your vivid imagination to insert some raspberries where
    I clearly ate the raspberries before taking this picture. Please.

    I picked this recipe because it involves separating a dozen eggs and I like breaking things. I also like to pretend that the really loud noise my ridiculously over powered KitchenAid Professional Mixer makes while beating the shit out of one dozen egg whites is my own personal air show, minus the planes, the tricks, and the inevitable plane-trick tragedies.

    Like the clouds at an air show, but with less impending doom!

    So here's the recipe, adapted ever so very tiny bit slightly from Smitten Kitchen.

    • 12 oz fine quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped
    • 6 tablespoons of water
    • 12 eggs, separated
    • 1 1/3 cups of sugar
    • 1/2 tsp of salt
    • 2 tablespoons cocoa powder

    • 2 cups heavy whipping cream
    • 7 tablespoons of sifted confectioners sugar
    • 4 tsp instant espresso dissolved in 4 tsp water
    • 1 tsp vanilla
    • raspberries

    1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease your baking pans and line the bottoms with parchment paper. Set aside.
    2. Melt the chocolate with the water over low heat. Set aside to cool to lukewarm.
    3. Whip together the egg yolks, 2/3 cups of sugar, and salt in a mixer for 5 minutes or until pale yellow and thick. Fold in the chocolate until blended.
    4. Clean your mixer, you filthy disgrace.
    5. Beat egg whites until soft peaks are formed. Slowly add the remaining 2/3 cups of sugar and beat until stiff peaks are formed. Fold 1/3 of the egg whites into the chocolate mixture to make it light. Gently fold in the remaining egg whites until blended.
    6. Evenly spread batter in your pans. Bake until puffy and the top appears dry. Rotate to ensure even baking. For my heart shaped mini pans, this took about 13 minutes. For my 5" and 6" circular pans, it took about 16 minutes.
    7. Let cool on a wire rack. When cooled, sift some cocoa powder on the top of the cakes. Place wax paper on top of the pan, then place a baking sheet on top of it all. Invert the cake onto the pan, gently removing the paper lining. Place the layers in the freezer for about an hour so that they are firmer and easier to handle when frosting.

    Make the frosting!
    1. Whip all the ingredients together. BAM. You have delicious frosting.
    Assemble the cake!
    1. Keep the cocoa side of the cake down.
    2. Frost the bare side with a heaping amount of whipped frosting. Place some halved raspberries on top of the frosting.
    3. Place the next layer on top and frost, frost, frost.
    You know you're a Jew when you subconsciously decorate your cake with a raspberry Star of David.

    I stopped at 2 layers for both of my circular cakes. My heart shaped cake used 5 layers...then I ran out of frosting. Sigh.

    If salt water at Passover reminds us of the Jews' tears, this clearly reminds us of
    sad we were as young Jews to not find the hidden matzah at Passover.

    This cake is totally delicious. For realz. It's crazy light and airy because it has a dozen fucking eggs. My Elijah, that is SO MANY EGGS. I just want to make a million and a half egg puns here. But I'm stronger than that. Or something. Also, I've recently become a big girl and started drinking coffee. Currently my drink of choice is a grande soy cappuccino so this espresso whipped cream was right up my big-girl alley. Plus who doesn't love fresh berries with their cake? Pharoh. That's who. Fucking Pharoh.

    This cake batter is very light but it could have used more plagues.
    Are a few locusts too much to ask for?

    Next I'm going to make this ridiculous sounding orange flour-less cake in various tiny, adorable shapes. But more look at my sickeningly cute heart shaped cake. No but seriously. I feel ill after like two bites.

    And Moses parted the flour-less cake so his people could escape the mighty Pharoh.

    RATE ME!

    TASTE: 3/5 You know what, the cake is really good. It really is. I think I just underbaked it a bit. I chalk this up to my inexperience with making flour-less cakes (see: Never) and my overall impatience. Surprisingly, this did not stop me from gaining a solid pound eating this cake last night. Nor did it stop a mysterious member of my family from going to town on these cakes sometime between last night and this morning. Hm.
    EASE: 3/5 I was actually pretty surprised how easy this cake was to make. The only points deducted from ease come from the ONE DOZEN SEPARATED EGGS. Amazing for pent up rage, however.
    FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: 5/5 I - I don't know what happened. It looked like a bomb went off. A bomb went off and then another, slightly chocolate-ier, bomb went off just for good measure. It was terrifying. It was so filthy.
    DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: He most seriously knew what was up when I was icing the cakes. I'm pretty sure I had his full I-Don't-Know-How-to-Sit-on-Command attention.
    IMPRESS-O-METER: 4/5 Flour-less seems unnecessarily tricky and espresso whipped cream seems unnecessarily mature. Overall, that's not too shabby.

    Wednesday, March 9, 2011

    Peanut Butter & Jared Cheesecake Brownies

    Dear Planet Earth,

    Hold the phone. Stop the presses. Go purge whatever you just ate for dinner. (That's a saying too, right?) I've got some very important news. It's called Peanut Butter & Jared Cheesecake Brownies. And it's going to change everything.

    Hugs and Quiches,

    Wow. That was such a serious intro to this post and it still isn't serious enough. Let me give you a scenario. It all began with two rag tag kids and one crazy-never-gonna-work idea. And it went a little something like this...

    Brother: Can you make me some cheesecake brownies?
    Me: Yes.
    Brother: Can there be peanut butter in them too?
    Me: Are we talking Reese's Peanut Butter Cups?
    Brother: Yes. Yes we are.

    Reese's Peanut Butter Cups:
    The peanut butter that holds the relationship between me and my brother together.

    So, many many (many) weeks after that conversation, I got down to business.

    I adapted a Cheesecake Brownie recipe from My Baking Addiction to make this life altering dessert. Or you could eat it for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast again.

    I like my ingredients like I like my men: white, beige, or brown.
    And handsome.
    ...for the brownies
    • 1 stick of butter, cut into pats
    • 7 1/2 tablespoons of cocoa powder
    • 2 1/2 tablespoons of oil
    • 1 cup of super fine sugar
    • 1 egg
    • 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
    • pinch of salt
    • 2/3 cup of flour
    • 1/2 teaspoon of baking powder
    • 8 Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, coarsely chopped

    ...for the cheesecake
    • 8oz cream cheese
    • 1/3 super fine sugar
    • 1 egg yolk
    • 1/4 tsp of vanilla extract
    Preheat the oven to 350. Line an 8x8 baking pan with foil and butter the foil.

    Mix the oil and cocoa powder until well combined in a small bowl. Throw the butter pats in that bowl and stick it in the microwave for 30 seconds or so, until the butter melts. Mix until smooth.

    Toss the cocoa/butter mixture in a mixing bowl. Add the egg, the sugar, the salt, and the vanilla. Whisk until smooth and pretty. Add the flour and baking powder. Whisk until just combined.

    Spread the brownie batter in the pan. Top evenly with Reese's Peanut Butter Cup crumbles. Take a second to bask in the glory of what you are making. Nice. Very Nice.

    Whisk together all the ingredients for the cheesecake in your sparkly freshly cleaned mixer. Spread the well combined cheesecake awesomeness on top of the brownie/Reese's Peanut Butter Cup batter. Grab a fork and swizzle the cheesecake topping around.

    Pop in the oven for 35 minutes or until the corners look puffy and the center is just set. Cool on a wire rack. Try not to press your face directly into the hot baking pan. Or don't hold back. Be yourself. Be happy. Be covered in Peanut Butter & Jared Cheesecake Brownies.

    If anything has ever asked for an imprint of an entire face, it's this guy.

    PS: I cannot WAIT to make everyone I know really, really, really, really fat.

    PPS: If you have some crazy ass idea for something you want to eat but you are more into eating than making, you should probs hit me up and suggest I make it.

    RATE ME!

    TASTE: 4.99/5 "I get the feeling Jesus ate these at the last supper." - Jared, namesake of these brownies. Also, timely for Ash Wednesday. I think. I'm Jewish. I'm going to go eat another brownie now probably.
    EASE: 4/5 Guys, here's the thing. Making brownies is exceptionally easy. Like if you were ever impressed by your mom making you brownies, you should know that she was making you something only slightly harder than breathing. Ask her to make you some Ho-Ho's and watch the bitch sweat.
    FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: 1/5 I managed to clean up the entire kitchen within 5 minutes. While the heavenly creations were baking. So perfect.
    DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: The dog licked cocoa powder off the floor where there was no cocoa powder on the floor. I don't want to know what he was actually licking. I bet it tasted like butt though. What can I say...I know my dog.
    IMPRESS-O-METER: 4/5 People go bananas over things with "cheesecake" in the title and they go apricots over baked goods named after them.

    Monday, February 28, 2011

    Kitchen Sink Cookies

    You know what I like? Waking up with my hair looking Edward-Scissorhands-great, the outdoors a lovely shade of monsoon, and all-but-one-ingredient in my cupboard for just about 6,156 different recipes. Basically, days like today are the monsooniest. I mean the best. I mean the monsooniest.

    And so we are left with some Kitchen Sink Cookies. Not to be confused with Refrigerator Cookies or...Refrigerator Cookies (this was going to be a great joke, I swear. Can we talk about my horrible hair day again?)


    • The last full stick of butter from the no-man's-land in my refrigerator that I refer to as the butter hutch.
    • 1/2 cup of white sugar mixed with 3/4 of molasses because you bought chocolate chips at the grocery store when you meant to buy brown sugar. Typical.
    • 1/2 cup of white sugar because you didn't use all of it up to make brown sugar.
    • 1 egg, lightly beaten. You know what? Those eggs look old. Make sure you have two eggs. Just to be safe. Just in case the egg has brown speckles in it. (Spoiler Alert: the first egg had brown speckles in it.)
    • 1 tsp vanilla. You can do this. You always have vanilla.
    • 3/4 of that oat flour you keep in the freezer because I'm pretty sure that's where oat flour belongs. Do not confuse it with the whole wheat flour you also keep in your freezer. Or the ice cream sandwiches. Especially the ice cream sandwiches. You need those ice cream sandwiches.
    • 1/4 tsp cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and baking soda. These just sound like a good idea. Plus, oregano would taste gross.
    • A cup of Kashi GoLean Crunch with Honey Almond Flax that sits on your kitchen counter and eyeballs you on the regular. Plus, this means these cookies are a good substitute for breakfast. Go with it.
    • A couple handfuls of pecans because who doesn't love pecans? Amiright?
    • A bag of chocolate chips which is definitely not brown sugar. Remember that for next time and then every time after that.
    Don't look now but I the butter hutch is staring right at you.

    Reiterating that recipe was the second most frustrating thing I've done all day. Wanna hear more about the weather? No. Fine. Moving on.

    .How to assemble your hodgepodge of stuff you forgot you have.

    Go on and melt your last stick of butter in a saucepan. Keep a quarter of your eye on your melting butter while you tackle your sugar problem. Lemme tell you something about brown sugar. It's as good as dead to me. I mean, until I buy it again. But seeing as I'm not going to buy it anytime soon because OMIGOD ARE THOSE CHOCOLATE CHIPS? Exactly. So you might want to mix that molasses and white sugar together. I used a fork to do it. You can use your sharp wit or piercing rage.

    Is your butter melted? Awesome. Perfect. Great. Mix it with your fake brown sugar and real white sugar. Crack an egg in a small bowl. Are those brown speckles? I told you there would be brown speckles. Crack a newer looking egg. Beat it a bit and toss it in your sugar butter mixture. Add the vanilla. Mix mix mix. Rain rain rain. Mix mix mix.

    Sift your oat flour (why not regular flour? I dunno maybe because it's the 90s! Get used to it!) and team of 1/4 of a teaspoon items together. Add them to your wet stuff. Looking good, looking good!

    And now for the finishing touches...

    Pulse your cup of Kashi a few times in a food processor because it just feels right. Throw it in your batter. Grab your handful of pecans, crumble them a bit in your mighty fist, and toss them in. Do it a second time because you have tiny hands and duh. Pecans. Duh. If the mixture is still a bit warm, throw it in the freezer. When cooled, empty as many chocolate chips as you want in there. I say "a lot" sounds respectable. Another handful of Kashi? Definitely. These cookies are looking DYNAMITE.

    Plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour or however long you're out of the house and negotiating the monsoon for. Keep in mind, this could be forever. You know what? You should probably leave a note.

    * * * *

    Wow. Thank God you left a note. I was worried.
    Preheat your oven to 350. Grease some pans. Throw some cookie rounds on the pans and then flatten them a little with a metal spatula. Bake for 12-13 minutes. Cool in the pan then cool on a rack.

    These look nothing like the sink I was promised.

    You know, you could take this recipe further. I'm sure there's something under your sink or whatever. And hot sauce. Everyone always has hot sauce. Just not the oregano.

    RATE ME!

    TASTE: 4/5 If these cookies are the kitchen sink, I am the garbage disposable. BOOM. That's like the refrigerator cookie joke I've always dreamed of.
    EASE: 4.5/5 Seeing as I was making up this recipe as I went along, it was pretty simple. Plus, it doesn't even involve a real mixer. Just these two guns I'm equipped with. I'm talking about my arms. My moderately strong arms. I work out. You were going to ask.
    FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: 3/5 Exciting news! After maybe a month of not working, my dishwasher works again! That makes cleaning up so easy! I highly suggest working dishwashers to all my readers (my parents).
    DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: He was on that dough like a min pin on a kitchen sink. You know, dangerously close to getting his leg chopped off in the garbage disposable. It's a metaphor for doggy diabetes. Trust me.
    IMPRESS-O-METER: 2/5 Ok the name "Kitchen Sink Cookies" really doesn't get you any gold stars. Plus there are entirely too few truffles in these cookies. Maybe you have some in your butter hutch?

    Friday, February 4, 2011

    Blueberry Muffins and Cinammon Raisin Bread

    Here are some ways I remember when my birthday is fast approaching:
    1. Something about football. Whatever. Score another run, fellas. Swish and stuff. Hat tricks.
    2. It starts to get so cold outside that my body begins sweating majestic snow flakes at an alarming rate.
    3. My dad and I discuss dinner plans.
    Adorably enough, my dad's birthday is the day before mine and Babe Ruth's. So over the last forever, no matter where either of us have been at the time, my dad and I have celebrated our birthdays together. And Babe Ruth's. Mostly Babe Ruth's. Then last year we just didn't. I was out in Colorado drinking flaming drinks and Pisco Sours, he was boozin on Bourbon Street (he was not boozin' Bourbon Street but he could have been) and much like the twain, the two of us ne'er did meet. (I think I did that right?)

    But while we missed each others' birthdays that weekend, we still got to celebrate them together. A week later, my dad made sure to drop everything (just kidding, he's retired) because I asked him to come out to Colorado on a day's notice just to hang out with me. And take me out to dinner. Oh we ate so many dinners!

    So it's my birthday on Sunday. And my dad won't be here to eat dinner with me for the second year in a row. But it's his birthday on Saturday. And I won't be there to eat dinner with him for the second year in a row. I could wait to give him a present when he comes to visit later this month but you only turn very very very (very) elderly (60) once (thank God) and you better fucking believe my dad will celebrate it with a package of Blueberry Muffins, a loaf of Cinnamon Raisin Bread, and the painstaking task of deciding where we're going to eat over President's Day weekend.

    My what judging cinnamon swirly eyes you have!

    Ball's in your court, Daddy. Happy birthday eve!

    PS: 23 and 363 days and 114.5.

    Wednesday, January 12, 2011

    Vegan Chocolate Salty Peanut Butter Balls

    Before you read any further, I'd like to tell you something really, really important. I've been lauding the delightfulness of my vegan chocolate salty peanut butter balls for literally tens of minutes. I don't know if you think (you probably don't, amateur) but tens of minutes is SO MANY minutes to express love for vegan chocolate salty peanut butter balls. Especially aloud. Espcially to your mother. Especially to your extremely judgmental kitchen cabinets.

    When will I live up to your standards?!

    Anyways, I know Chef was the original purveyor of chocolate salty balls and I know the addition of "peanut butter" to "chocolate salty balls" makes you immediately think "creamy venereal disease" (no? how about now? that's what I thought. yummzville.) but that's just absurd. Just about everything in the world can and will benefit from the addition of peanut butter.

    Example: Shampoo? Work a dollop of PB into your locks, neither wash no rinse, and voila! your hair is a tasty snack for mid shower hunger pangs. (You're allowed to called them "hunger bangs" if you're really clever.)

    Example: Feeling chilly? Nothing says "boy am I comfy cozy" like a thin (or thick) layer of PB under your clothes. It also says "I'm friends with both bees and people who walk around with celery stalks and raisins!" but who couldn't use more friends? Amiright?

    Those examples were exhausting. Less exhausting? These vegan chocolate salty peanut butter balls. They took about 20 minutes or so to make, including bake time. I've had eybrow waxing appointments take longer than that. And these balls makes you cry less too! (This whole post is one giant that's-what-she-said joke. Sigh. Such is life.)

    "Hey baby, I wonder if you can fit all of me in your mouth?" - Vegan Chocolate Salty Peanut Butter Ball 2011 Predator of the Year

    Oh yeah. Here's some of the nitty gritty. This recipe came from my new vegan baking cookbook, The 100 Best Vegan Baking Recipes: Amazing Cookies, Cakes, Muffins, Pies, Brownies, and Breads by Kris Holecheck. Although completely void of pictures, it's a pretty lovely little cookbook. Although the snickerdoodle recipe is more like a snickerdoody recipe if you catch my drift. (It's like poop.)

    I'd like one of those hot stone massages but with
    Vegan Chocolate Salty Peanut Butter Balls.

    RATE ME!

    5/5 - The salty balls can do no wrong.
    EASE: 5/5 - My dog could make these cookies if he wasn't such a gluttonous tramp who had no sense of self control. But I'm also willing to say a life size cardboard cutout picture of my dog could also manage this recipe. If the cardboard Frank wanted it bad enough.
    FILTH OF KITCHEN: 1/5 - My cleanup process was included in my 20ish minute questimate of total time spent in the kitchen. No egg mess (thanks vegans!), no melting chocolate (thanks society!), and my peanut butter wasn't even terribly sticky (thanks advances in Peter Pan peanut butter air whipping technology!). My goodness. This recipe is starting to look dangerously perfect.
    DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: The dog was too busy trying to eat the cat. That boy needs to get his priorities straight.
    IMPRESS-O-METER: 3/5 - See, I have this dilemma. I want to make a balls joke here so bad. So so bad. What if you just lolz as you would lolz had I told a really great balls deep joke involving my vegan chocolate salty peanut butter balls right here without me having to make a balls deep joke? Because if I make an honest to goodness balls deep joke here, I'll have to explain the term "balls deep" to my mom. Or I want have to. Honestly, I'm not sure which would be worse.

    Do you see what I did here?
    It's a face!