Friday, November 30, 2012

Happy Accident

                Perhaps apocryphal, but the story is that chocolate chip cookies were the result of an accident. Not a “fell in the toaster and burnt up dead” accident, but an unintended consequence, a failed experiment.
                Maybe there is something to this, or maybe, as you have suggested, anything made with butter, sugar and chocolate chips is going to be good.
                Last night, I set out to make the oatmeal cookies from Baked. Happily puttering along, wondering if I would chill the batter as directed or just bake them then, I came to the “add the rolled oats” step. No rolled oats. I usually have a big bag of them, so I hadn’t checked and now that I couldn’t find any I remembered thinking, -those things get stale, I’ll wait until I am actually going to use them before I buy another bag.
                The lesson here? Don’t be a sensible shopper.
                The batter looked very like chocolate chip cookie batter, so I tossed in some chocolate chips, some toasted pecans and some dried cherries.  I baked them on parchment in a 350 oven. When I peeked in the oven they had turned into little melted puddles. Real chocolate chip cookies have 2 or more cups of flour. This recipe has 1 ½ cups. I hadn’t focused on that and now it seemed the entire batch really was ruined.
                But I had nothing for dessert so I went ahead and baked the rest of them, let them cool and Wow! They were good.
                By today, they are even better. Very like David’s cookies. Remember David’s cookies? I think only available in Boston sometime in the 80’s. Barely baked, lots of chocolate, sweet, oily and addictive.  These aren’t as greasy or as crumbly as David’s but they have that same soft, dense texture, nary an air bubble in there.
                I know you are spending 21 days without sugar and I feel a little like an oenophile waxing rhapsodic on some vintage to her alcoholic sister with 4 days sobriety.  Sorry about that. They weren’t really that good. Not nearly as good as a pear or a nice bowl of unsweetened applesauce. 
                Love, Margaret

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