Disclosure: this post assumes knowledge of baking techniques and an appreciation for classic cookie recipes. There will be no mention of SOAP or REST except when I instruct you to wash up with SOAP before stirring the dough or tell you that you must take a REST before we decorate the cookies.
Following along my thoughts on mistakes, I’ve just proven to myself yet again their value.
My neighbor and I baked Christmas cookies together yesterday. She made gingerbread dough and I offered to do sugar cookie cutouts, because I had received a mix in a jar.
I accidentally threw away the sugar cookie instructions, but Rick scored some from another dad. I thought they were kind of sketchy–didn’t sound like enough wet ingredients, and the part about kneading the dough was clearly wrong–since when does anyone knead cookie dough? But I was tired and a bit crazed from suffering house arrest due to the blizzard.
My friend’s gingerbread dough was beautifully brown and soft. My dough was hard as a rock even before I chilled it. I considered adding another egg but didn’t. I left the dough out instead of chilling it; still, when I used a rolling pin, it cracked and crumbled.
It seemed like shortbread dough or maybe the kind of dough you use to make mexican wedding cakes, so I rolled it into balls in my hands as the kids ran wild through the house. I baked the first batch then rolled them in powdered sugar; they looked just like my favorite kind of Christmas cookies (see picture, lower left) though I knew they wouldn’t taste like them, lacking as they were in both delicate nutty flavor and a tender texture. I stuck the second batch of sugar cookie concrete balls into the oven then my neighbor arrived to finish the gingerbread cutouts. She suggested pressing the Hershey’s chocolate and caramel kisses she had brought along right into their middles, a la peanut butter blossoms.
The cookies had baked enough that it was just the right time to push in some kisses. As they baked, the caramel leaked out of some like they were exploding volcanoes, a welcome reminder that I no longer live in Hawaii. I worried about how they might taste but after our shared chili and cornbread dinner, all the adults pronounced them most excellent and worthy of a repeat performance next year. We sent the kids off with the gingerbread trees and stars and horded our chocolate-caramel volcano blossoms. If eating the cookie itself was a little like crunching on lava rocks, no one said it out loud.
Most mistakes don’t turn out so deliciously. But it’s Christmas time, when a little good cheer, some family and friends, a cookie or two, and a glass of eggnog with a shot of Wild Turkey make even the worst of mistakes look not just recoverable, but maybe like exactly what should have happened.
Merry Christmas to you!
One Comment
Wow, Anne, you bake like I do.