As Friday was payday, I spent – literally – the evening paying off bills and balancing my checkbook. Really scintillating stuff I tell you. In celebration of having no bills hanging over my head, and a positive balance in the checking account, I decided to make Nestle’s classic chocolate chip cookies.
In true fashion I didn’t have enough chocolate chips or chopped walnuts to make the full recipe. I also didn’t relish using up all of my butter for cookies, so I cut the recipe in half. Yes, I’m dangerous and monkey about with established baking rules of precision and order.
After beautifully creaming the butter and sugar, I went to add the flour. Quickly found out that I only had a meager cup in my flour canister. Whoops. Into the bowl went all the flour I could scrape out. Into the 375 F oven went the cookies, which I promptly forgot about.
About 15 minutes later I remembered I was making cookies. Despite the edges and bottoms of the cookies being
a bit charred extra crispy, they were still edible. I’d show you photos, but with the cookies being edible and all … well, they are no more.
Sometimes I feel a tad inadequate in the world of food blogging. This is a simple, casual food blog. I enjoy reading the well-established bloggers. I’ve read some blogs for years, sticking around because of the quality of writing, outrageously lovely photos and delicious recipes.
But sometimes, in my opinion, I can’t find the mistakes. I’m a very type A person in most respects (not with baking, obviously). I like to be right, and I really dislike admitting I’m wrong. As my harshest critic, I have always been hard on myself after making a mistake. This is especially true at work. I’ve lost countless hours of sleep over grammatical errors, not double checking facts or sloppy proof reading. And rightly so in some ways. I detest unprofessionalism and those careless mistakes weigh on my mind weeks after they occur.
I’m trying to break out of that shell when it comes to my personal life, in and out of the kitchen. I am done stressing over small missteps. The missed workout, bad hair days, that strip of leg hair you missed while shaving even after going over each leg TWICE and, of course, burned cookies. From here on out I promise to share those recipes gone awry. Sometimes food blogs only show the perfectly burnished meringue or golden roasted chicken. The aftermath of when the dog made off with the Christmas ham and necessitated some Chinese takeout isn’t often seen.
Mistakes in the kitchen often yield the best stories. For example, my friend Beth once tried to make her own brown sugar by mixing white sugar and maple syrup (she wasn’t far off though; you use molasses). Then there was the time in eighth grade I made blueberry muffins with my friend Robyn. We were so messy, it’s amazing any batter got into the muffin cups. We didn’t wipe off the excess on the sides of the muffins, and so our muffins ended up being fringed with charred bits. We laughed and called them tutus.
In an open plea to the food blogosphere, I’d like to hear about your mistakes. Share those times when nothing is going right in the kitchen until you pour a glass of wine, and say “To hell with it.” I’ll pop a cork with you. To life’s crusty bits, cheers!