About 15 pounds ago, I learned how to make cookies.
Last month I decided that if I ever wanted cookies again, I would have
to learn the ancient secrets of cookie-making. Why? It’s my wife’s fault. She
doesn’t bake anymore. Now before you label me sexist, in no way do I think
baking is woman’s work. It’s just that she happened to be the one who made
exceptional cookies, muffins, and other delicious what-have-you (or in my case
“what-have-you-not”) and I miss all that stuff more than my adult(ish)
children. Plus, she is into health and fitness and other mythologies that I
struggle to accept.
So, after like two years of waiting for cookies to
magically appear, I was struck with a novel thought that some might deem common
sense, but not me: bake them yourself David. And so it began. My first batch
was decent. But my second and third attempts were impressive and THEN NOW?
Well, let’s just say there’s enough butter in my incredible soft and chewy
chocolate chip cookies that after 13 minutes and 54 seconds in a 350-degree
oven, they all melt into ONE GIANT COOKIE called insert-heavenly-music-here.
Actually, I named them Cookie-Monster cookies because, ME LIKE COOKIE. Also, while
eating them they fall apart in the same signature way that cookies get
catapulted all-sorts-and-such when Cookie Monster unsuccessfully snarfs them
down them because (SPOILER) Cookie Monster has no throat.
So then I started bragging to people about my cookies.
Anyone with basic deductive skills likely knows what followed. PROVE IT they
said. And so I did. And then I did again. And again. And then one more time. Finally,
I realized they were manipulating me into making cookies. So I stopped. Then
began the gentle inquiries attempting to deflect from the way they USED ME. For
example, some asked, “Do you make other kinds of cookies?” My response: “What, like
raisin? NO. Raisins don’t have the right flavour, and more
importantly, vibe. Basically raisins are sad grapes. Cookies don’t need that
kind of negativity.”
Whoa. When did I get so bitter? A sudden
realization struck me, a cookiepiphany, if you will. Cookies are more than the
sum of their ingredients. They bring people together. They could end global conflict.
Therefore, I must make more. AND I must share them. AND SO MUST YOU. Right?
4 comments:
I find baking therapeutic and when I'm feeling overwhelmed will often neglect chose I. Order to create time for it. That being said, yes, one must always share with many because, at least in my case, joy of baking + total lack of self control = tummy ache unless divided through sharing!
"... she is into health and fitness and other mythologies that I struggle to accept" LOL!
Baking must be shared here because otherwise I eat too much of it and so does my husband. Neither of us needs it!
Okay... there should be a warning included with this post - "serious saliva malfunctioning will occur" because I now find myself in a bad way.... like, you know, between chocolate and ginger... loyalties are being shattered, well, at least tested.
So, the only sane, and sensible, thing to do... bake me a batch of both and stop the in-fighting. Ahhh... I can smell them in the oven, and yes, I've insanely put both batches on the same sheet. I'm going to cookie heaven.
I rest in peace after reading this piece.
Hey, there's a lot worse things you can be known for than being the Cookie Man. You've found your calling in Life. Pursue it. And mail me a dozen or so down to Edmonchuk here, willya?
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