I’m a pretty good cook. I can chop, saute, roast, simmer, whatever. I’ve even gotten to the point where I can use a recipe as a starting point and make changes of my own and have a good idea of how it will turn out. There have been a few bombs here and there, but overall, I’m handy in the kitchen.
What I don’t do very often? Bake. Partly because it’s time-consuming, and even though I enjoy cooking (most of the time), I really only do it because it’s a necessary thing. We HAVE to eat dinner, so someone HAS to cook it. If I could have our meals prepared by someone else every night without spending a fortune, you’d better believe I’d do it! But, you know, reality and all that. But baking- that’s extra. So I really only ever bake around Christmas time when I make cookies for the holiday. I’ve never baked a cake in my life, and I don’t even think I’ve ever made cupcakes. I did make pumpkin muffins once and they were… okay.
But today I made plans to bake some chocolate chip cookies to share with our neighbors who oh-so-generously helped Dan and his dad assemble Maggie’s swingset this weekend. A thank you gift! Who doesn’t left freshly-baked, homemade chocolate chip cookies?
I forgot I kind of suck at baking sometimes.
The recipe is fine. And I mixed it all just right. I know this because the last cookie sheet turned out edible. The first two sheets? Burnt hockey pucks.
(They actually look marginally okay from the top… UNTIL YOU FLIP THEM OVER.)
All because I put the cookie sheets on the middle rack instead of the top rack. And maybe that, combined with the new cookie sheets I got for Christmas that are pretty thick and therefore hold the heat quite a bit more than my old, crappy, thin ones. Or maybe the Baking Gods just hate me.
Either way, I’m pretty sure my neighbors would hold a secret homeowners association meeting to vote us off the street if I tried to feed them these awful cookies.
Dan wasn’t too upset though. He loves chocolate chip cookies, and he has a whopping fourteen cookies to eat now. The other 24 are in the trash where they belong.