Post-Workout Cookie Sandwiches Revisited

I gave my I'm-Real-Beat-From-Running-Someone-Get-This-Girl-A-Cookie-Sandwich recipe a moderate facelift yesterday. It's the same basic idea, just a few ingredient replacement. So here goes it!

Ingredients

1/2 cup vanilla protein powder (use a soy-based powder for vegan)

1/3 cup oat flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

4oz fresh ground almond butter

18 packets Truvia

1/4 to 1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

1 tsp vanilla

2 tbls instant espresso powder

1 1/2 cups oats

1/2 cup mini dark chocolate chips

Do These Things Now

Whisk your protein powder, oat flour, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder together in a bowl. Set aside. In a mixing bowl, "cream" the almond butter, applesauce and truvia til smooth. Add the tsp of vanilla and the espresso powder. Mix some more. Add the dry ingredient mixture a half a cup at a time. It should seem pretty dry. If it seems too dry, add a bit more applesauce. Add the vanilla and espresso powder. Smoooooth. Fold in the oats and the chocolate chips.

Divide the dough in half. Take one half and plop it down on some wax paper. Wrap it up like a tootsie roll and roll it out into a log. It should be about an inch and half or so in diameter. Wrap tightly in the wax paper and let cool in the fridge for 4-6 hours. Repeat with remaining half of dough.

4-6 hours/one reading of The Hunger Games later...

Preheat the oven to 350. Line some cookie sheets with parchment paper. Take your doughy logs out of the fridge. Slice the logs into thinnish cookie disks no bigger than a half an inch wide. If they crack a bit, you can always reform them with a little of the fallen off dough. Press the disks down onto the cookie sheets, making them just a tad slimmer and peanut butter spreading friendlier. Add fallen apart dough as needed. Bake for 9 minutes. Remove and cool for a minute or 2 on the sheets, then transfer to cooling racks.

Assembly!

This is pretty straightforward. If it isn't, I'm afraid of how you got this far and no, this is not a pie recipe. Take one cookie. Spread a tablespoon of your favorite chunky peanut butter on the smooth bottom side. Top with another cookie's smooth bottom side. Giggle about "smooth bottom sides."

Nutrition Facts

Per cookie 

50 calories / 6g carbs / 3g fat / 2g protein / 1g fiber / 0g sugar

(based off the recipe making the 42 cookies I made)

Per cookie sandwich with a tablespoon of Maranatha No Stir Crunchy Peanut Butter

190 calories / 16g carbs / 14g fat / 8g protein / 3g fiber / 3g sugar

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?)

.Recipe.

• 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?

Maamoul: Stuffed Date-Orange Cookies

How do you pronounce “maamoul”? I have absolutely no idea. I figure that’s as good a reason to bake a cookie as any. I’m sure no one would notice if you just produce an “m” sound and then casually trail off. (Cultural ignorance!)

Still, it must sound pretty fancy when you introduce these cookies to acquaintances at social gatherings. I can see it now…

‘Jan made chocolate chip cookies – let’s give Jan a hand, shall we! Come on mutual acquaintances!’ your friend Bruce says because he talks like that. He also calls people dears. He’s that guy.

‘Three cheers for Jan!’ Susan adds.

But you hate Susan and you hate chocolate chip cookies. And you really hate Jan. And Bruce. Whose acquaintances are these anyways?
That’s when you step forward, Tupperware chock full of Ma..m…l, with a frightening grin.

‘I made stuffed Date-Orange cookies.”

The room goes silent. Chewed chocolate chip cookies are spit into napkins. Acquaintances, mid pat-on-the-backs for Jan, stop abruptly. Someone slaps Jan. AND SCENE.

At least that’s how I imagine it. You probably should just call them Stuffed Date-Orange cookies is what I’m saying.


On to the baking!!
First off, find the recipe HERE and follow my every move.

This recipe uses a food processor and food processor only. I thought that was odd but hey, I can’t even pronounce the name of the cookie so who am I to judge? I put my judging cap on anyways – of course I am to judge, I’m captain judgment – and stuffed the dates and crap into the mixer. Hey PS dates are super sticky. These dates are sticky like if I got sticky date goo (i.e. this filling) stuck in my hair, well I’d probably have to use bubble gum to get it out. It’s that serious.

The greatest part about the food processing (it had so many great parts) was that the dates were so sticky that the food processor started making this purring sound. It purred hard then it purred soft then it stopped purring all together. And pureeing. After much persuading, it tried again and succeeded. Yay!

It looked like toxic waste sludge. Yum!

The other greatest part about the food processing (see, so many parts!) was that my food processor is only a 4-cup food processor. I’m not some fat cat fluent in corporate mumbo jumbo who goes out buying ritzy food processors that can fit more than a softball. Because the economy.

This mainly came into play in the second part of the recipe when I was supposed to combine all the dough ingredients into the 4-cup food processor. Hilarious! It didn’t work.

I wish some lady who claims she's been around the block a few times was around to give a helpful suggestion...

My mom, after telling me she’s been around the block a few times (mooOOOOoooom) suggested I take my newfound cutting in butter skill (life’s a learning rollercoaster kids) and there was success.

I like the no dough chilling time about this dough. I found that it even helped to keep handling this dough after I made the little balls so I could make it a little softer and less likely to crack when it was time to pinch around the filling and seal the cookie. I still had a bit of trouble when it came to this part, however, because the filling was just so sticky. I felt like the recipe called for me to be part octopus and use my eight clean and tentacled hands to craft the little balls. It was seriously hard with my two, pathetic human hands. It just one of those times when you wish you had a helper monkey. You know, like every second of every day.

While not picture perfect, these cookies still came out super yummy. They crumble really nicely in your mouth and are just buttery enough without being overpowering. The filling is almost a little spicy in its fruitiness thanks to the crystallized ginger. And thank heaven for powdered sugar clumping – I mean dusting.
Plus, these cookies make it okay to slap your acquaintance Jan in the face. Amateur.

RATE ME!

TASTE: 4.5/5 > really yummy but could have used a little something still. Not sure what that something is.

EASE: 4/5 > not too hard to make really. The only thing that was hard to deal with was the stickiness of the dates. SO STICKY.

FILTH OF KITCHEN: 2/5 > I managed to keep it somewhat clean with this recipe. I think not having to roll out dough helps immensely. I’m pretty sure there’s a good amount of powdered sugar in my hair, however.

DID THE DOG EAT IT: He came. He saw. He was genuinely uninterested and stared at me with a puzzled look. I guess his palate just really isn’t up to snuff. (I’ll have you know, the IMPRESS-O-METER just tipped its hat to me, said ‘Good day, madam,’ and skyrocketed through the roof.)

IMPRESS-O-METER: 5/5 > Jan got slapped in the face.

"what's a palate?"

Italian Chocolate Sandwich Cookie

Hey Giada De Laurentiis from Food Network, I get it. You're Italian. Every recipe in the world with some derivation of the word "Italy" in the title is clearly yours and yours alone. Great job with the whole Italian empire, Giada. You really stuck it to the man when you shaped the country like a boot. What's that? You claim an Italian cookie recipe? Oh Giada. You're so silly. Surely you jest. Well, I'll humor you.

I'm going to hit on a few key ingredients and steps but you can find the full recipe for Giada's Italian Chocolate Sandwich Cookie on Food Network: The "I'm from ITALY Cookie"

Before I get into the cookie making I must make this public service announcement. Dear Cookie recipe creators: I know you live in a make believe world of sunshine and gumdrops but I do not. Would it be so difficult for you to mention the necessity of a specific cookie cutter BEFORE I make the dough? Like in the first sentence? I, unlike you, do not have an arsenal of various cookie cutters of all adorable shapes and sizes. I know what you're thinking Giada, how absurd! You don't have peons from Food Network HQ to get you that in 35 seconds or they're fired? No Giada (and every other cookie recipe sage ever), I don't. Thanks for all your not help. Please just do me a solid and tell me about 1 3/4 inch round cookie cutter I'll need in the ingredients or something. Or the title. 1 3/4 inch Round Cookie Cuttered Italian Chocolate Sandwich Cookie. That sounds nice.

Now, on to baking!

This cookie sounded not only delicious but also interesting. If completed successfully, it could rank very high on the Impress-Your-Friends-O-Meter. Sandwich cookies are, by nature, the best things ever invented. With every bite of delicious cookies you also get a mouthful of either creamyness, chocolateyness, or ice cream(ness). There are so many other things in this world that would benefit from being sandwiched with the aforementioned fillings (ahem, ECONOMY, where's your delicious inside?).

So immediately I was interested. Plus, this recipe has some wonky ingredients. Orange zest? In the cookies and the cream? Cornmeal in the cookies? Giada! You're playing with fire, girl!

I set off making the dough and it seemed easy enough. The recipe basically asks you to dive right in with your hands and go nuts. I did. And honestly, I thought I was doing an excellent job. But the cornmeal worried me. Right from the start. I like cornmeal. I like polenta. I do not understand where they fit in cookies. It made the dough look grimy...almost like the grit in red clay (hey Art School, thanks for all the jobs you got me!) and that made me uncomfortable. Sure, gritty clay has always looked delicious but I wasn't positive that today would be the day I'd want to eat a fistful of it.

I soldiered on and refrigerated the dough for a couple hours even though it still didn't look quite right. I was supposed to form it into a a round shape and plastic wrap it before refrigerating and, while I did do this, it was a rather crumbly creation. In hindsight, I probably should have added a bit of water or something. But what's that they say about hindsight? Hindsight is Italian Chocolate Sandwich Cookies?

The next step in the recipe was clearly my downfall (ps this cookie takes a turn for the worse FYI). Rolling out the dough proved to be ridiculous. Not only do I hate rolling out dough (hey peons from Food Network, I bet yall do this for Giada, don't you...suckers) but this dough simply did not roll out. I tried. Really. I made a mess. Really! But no dice. I decided then and there to be bold. I was going to beat the crap out of the dough with my cold dead hands.

Here's the problem with this solution: Giada wonderfully suggested that the dough be 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick. That's all well and good when you are using your trusting rolling pin. These hands of mine not only don't do eyeball measurements (they're hands, silly!) but they also do not pound out dough (giggle) in an even and/or flat manner. I got some lumpy, gritty dough out of this. Some parts were thick, some were thin...it was a mess.

I'm super smart (duh) and great at problem solving (double duh) so I got out my trusty 1/3 cup thinger to use for my cookie cutter. It was swell! I gave myself a solid pat on the back, managed to cut out an odd amount of cookies (super smart!) and went on baking them.

Things got weird. Half of the cookies looked like this:


Yum! A perfect Sandwich Cookie!

While the other half looked like this:


What the hell is that?

I was not amused.

After the whole some-cookies-too-thick-some-cookies-too-thin debacle of 2009, I set to work on the happy creamy filling. Surly this would be successful!

It was. The cream was delightful tasting (you can't go wrong with cream). Except one thing. Clearly not enough creamy crap. Which is odd too because the recipe says it makes "28 cookies." 28 sandwich cookies? 14 sandwich cookies? GIADA GET WITH IT. ALL OF ITALY IS DEPENDING ON YOU! Anyways, there simply wasn't enough goo which was honestly, really too bad. Here's why...

The cookies themselves are just not any good. They taste exactly like I imagined: a child's "I <3 MOM" coffee mug made in 6th grade art class for the holidays. It tasted like gritty red clay! How is this even possible! Did no peons taste these cookies, Giada? Well, they needed all the orange cream in the world and Giada only provided enough ingredients for a ridiculously little amount of cream. Not nearly enough to save these monstrosities. I should have known something was up when my dog helped himself to some wayward pieces of dough and started gagging. That animal will eat raw pasta. AND HE LIKES IT.

Here's my classy camera phone picture of the end result:




And the final verdict:
TASTE: 2.5/5 > Delicious cream. World's worst cornmealy cookies.
EASE: 2/5 > remember that time rolling out dough was impossible? I do!
FILTH OF KITCHEN: 5/5 > Anytime rolling out dough is involved, my kitchen takes a beating. Also, there was cornmeal from here to ya-ya.
DID THE DOG EAT IT THE DOUGH: yes and no. He did willingly approach it. It also made him gag.
IMPRESS-O-METER: 4/5 > The impressive factor is still there in the completed cookie just because of the flavors (mmm orange cream excites my palate is what they'll all say to sound smart) and the overall cookie sandwich promise.


SHOULD YOU MAKE THIS COOKIE? Not unless you hate yourself

My name is Molly and I'm a Cookie Monster

Let's get this awkward first date out of the way as soon as possible. You're looking at me thinking, gosh what a deadbeat. I bet she doesn't even have a job, you say. And I'm looking at you with leering eyes that say, oh man this could be the one...this could be the one! I'm considering calling my mother and telling her the good news. I'm an inch away from telling you that my dream cake is shaped like Olmec from Legends of the Hidden Temple with real red glowing eyes. But that's awkward and I want this to be special. So let's get to it. I mean, you could very well be the one.

I like baking cookies. I have no job so I have a lot of time to bake cookies. No, no don't up and leave! Hear me out. I plan use this time to accomplish something really special. I'm going to bake a whole bunch of different cookies. And rate them. And you will pretend that you are eating them and enjoying them with me.

I know what you're saying. You're thinking this sounds a lot like that terrible movie Julie and Julia. Here are some key differences:

1. I am not nearly as annoying as that Julie. She was the worst. Ever.
2. Julia Child is not my muse. Yes, she was a cool giantess. One of epic proportions. But I'm awfully short and a woman of her stature could very well make me pee my pants.
3. Why am I even going into this? No one saw Julie and Julia. It was a horrible movie. I won't even waste your time or insult your intelligence by suggesting you've seen that movie. No one has. I'm going to pretend I haven't either.

That was awkward. First dates are weird. But now that that's out of the way I feel better. Should we get down to the nitty gritty?

I am not a trained baker. I confuse parchment paper and wax paper. I set fire to dish rags. But I make a mean cookie. And I plan to make dozens of mean cookies. Cookies so mean that their mothers are constantly telling them to stop making that face because it will stick that way but they don't listen because they are that mean and SURPRISE! Their faces stick that way and whenever they walk down the street people go MAN! What a mean cookie! That's the kind of cookie I make.

I'm also going to maybe attempt making my own cookie recipes. I may even send you a cookie care package if you A) ask nice enough and B) have gone so far as to contemplate eating your own hand because my cookies sound so scrumptious. Well, one or the other.

I'm starting with various individual recipes as well as two cookie books as some structure for this blog:

Betty Crocker Cookie Book: The Most Delicious Collection of Cookies Ever (what a hefty statement that book makes. Jeez)

Big Fat Cookies by Elinor Klivans

I shall rate my cookies on various levels: taste, ease, filth of kitchen, whether or not my dog eats what drops on the floor, and whether or not they impress folks. Everyone knows that people only make cookies to impress others. I can't even believe I have to mention that.

So let's get started!
I'm making some cookies tonight and I'll report back sometime soon.