cookie dough

Reverb 10: I don't have your recipe.

On the last day of November, I signed up to participate in #reverb10, a month-long challenge to blog every day of December based on prompts provided here. Here’s hoping it keeps me honest. Today’s prompt: December 6 Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? (Author: Gretchen Rubin)

Two recipes, both promising delicious delicacies and happiness beyond compare. I've tried them both.

First: I made a mess. Pair two unlikely ingredients. Stir together at just the right time. Let rise in a warm place. Beat furiously with family turmoil and life's little hassles. Mix ingredients with everything else in the cupboard, and bake at a high temperature until the smoke alarm starts going off. Throw the whole concoction out the window. Let cool for two months at opposite ends of the city — this metaphor actually isn't going very well — checking for bruises burns at intervals. Try again in a cooler environment, this time adding equal parts trepidation, pride and eternal hope. Repeat the process as best you can remember. Fail again.

Because the recipe looked so much better in the pictures. Maybe the ingredients are better off separately, too decadent — or toxic, maybe — when combined.

Second: I made cookies. 2 1/4 cups flour 3/4 cup white granulated sugar 3/4 cup dark brown sugar 1 tsp vanilla 1 tsp baking soda 1 tsp salt 2 sticks butter 2 eggs In a large bowl, mix sugars, softened butter and vanilla. Add in eggs, one at a time. Beat until smooth. In a smaller bowl, mix flour, salt and baking soda. Stir dry mixture, bit by bit, into the larger bowl until the mixture is even. Add chocolate chips. Drop by rounded spoonful onto an ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 375° for 9-11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on wire rack.

Or, if you're me, skip the baking part entirely and eat the entire bowl of dough.

Guess I end up sick and hating myself in the end regardless of the recipe. This kitchen isn't going to clean itself.