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.


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.