The Last Cookie.
When you bake cookies it's like some kind of earth-shattering domestic phenomenon. The house fills with the intoxicating scent of fresh baked love all gooey with melted chocolate chips, chewy with oats and sweetly studded with dried cranberries.
Suddenly people from all corners of the home come out of hiding and follow their noses to the source of their mutual adoration. Like hounds who've caught the trail of prey, noses to the ground, tails wagging.
In the course of the next few days, hours, or in some cases minutes, the cookies are greedily devoured. No crumb is safe, no chocolate chip left behind. Gradually the batch is thinned out, the plumpest cookies picked off one by one like lambs to the slaughter. What was once twelve becomes eight, then six, then four and finally one. One lonely cookie sits in what now seems like an immense jar. Once stuffed with its brothers and sisters, the jar is now empty save one survivor.
Days pass and there it remains. The relief of being spared the all too recent massacre wears off and he's left wondering why he wasn't chosen. Was he too small? Was he over-baked? Was he lacking in chocolate or cranberries? No, this isn't fourth grade kickball.
No one wants the last cookie because no one can bear to put an end to the deliciousness. No one wants to be the one responsible for depriving the others of all that sugar and love. Once the last cookie is reduced to crumbs you know it will never fill that void inside when you crave another and realize that's it.
Tea Time.
Recently I tried to take up tea drinking. Ever since the great teatastophe of '97 I made the informed decision to henceforth swear off tea in all its guises. Iced tea. Green tea ice cream. Long Island iced tea. Matcha cake. It was just awful. I sipped a bit of my mom's green tea and made a funny face. I was traumatized.
Despite my tainted past with tea, over the years I have acquired a handsome collection of tea related things. Tea towels, tea cups, saucers, tea spoons, cream and sugar sets, cute napkins. It got me thinking, maybe I like tea after all.
I was going to give tea another chance. Maybe we could get reacquainted and become fast friends. I'm sure we just got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps it was high time for some high tea.
I had it in my head I was going to throw tea parties with all my civilized tiny hat wearing buddies. We were going to sit in my dining room all prim and proper with our ankles delicately crossed. We were going to sip fancy earl grey and chamomile out of dainty pink cups with our pinkies out. We were going to gossip and giggle and nibble on petit fours.
I mean what better place to show off my Royal Wedding worthy feather fascinator right?
Alas it was not meant to be. Tea and I just don't get along. I made the face again. It wasn't pretty.
There is one part of tea time I think we can all agree is the very best part. The treats. The tiny individual cakes, the gooey squares, the cute cookies, the powdery truffles, the glazed tarts. Because if you take away the tea isn't a tea party just a swanky buffet?
And none of that roast beef and shrimp crap. The good stuff. The end of the buffet we all save ourselves for. Let's all just admit it. You might have stuffed yourself with more than your money's worth, but you just can't refuse that spread of sugary bliss on top of everything. Even if it means that you don't feel physically capable of eating another bite for at least another week.
Here's my contribution to tea time. The best part. The star. The crowd pleaser. The treat. Cardamom Clementine Cookies. They're light and airy with the floral scent of cardamom and the subtle brightness of citrus. I'm guessing they'd go well with a steaming cup of chai tea, but I'm certainly no expert. You'll have to let me know!
Cute On A Stick.
There are those among us that dare to claim they don't like candy corn. I won't name names here, but just know the list is a long one. Candy corn is just one of those things you either love or hate. For instance: I love the bright caramel flavour, but I kind of hate the pain I get in the back of my eyeballs when I eat more than my fair share. I tolerate a lot of eyeball pain this time of year.
When I saw some photos of cookies like these floating around on Pinterest I knew I had to try them out with my amazing whipped shortbread recipe. For those of you that have never had whipped shortbread, first of all you must know that I pity you, and second of all you should know that it's like the cookie equivalent of cotton candy. Have you ever honestly had a melt-in-your-mouth cookie? Well you're about to, my friends. No more doorstop shortbread for you! Or chewing come to think of it.
So, getting back to my love of candy corn... These adorable cookies are not only shaped like my favourite candy, but actually have the audacity to perch themselves on sticks thus increasing their cuteness threefold. Everyone knows food is cuter on sticks right?
Ok, let's review.
Candy corn = yum.
Whipped shortbread = life changing.
Sticks = cute.
Now that we know there's a method to my madness, why not bake up some yummy-life-changing-cute-on-a-stick? You know you want to.
Fingers Crossed.
Have you ever had one of those thoughts that seemed like a good idea at the time then suddenly you find yourself wrist-deep in cookie dough and the cat is trying to eat the styrofoam gravestones and somehow you spent a small fortune on things like faux cobwebs and glow-in-the-dark skeletons?
This weekend our house will be invaded by a handful of twelve year old girls hopped on on handfuls of sugar. Sugar that I will be providing in abundance. Sugar that I will be encouraging the consumption of. Sugar laid out in pretty packaging on pretty platters and in pretty bowls.
Let's not forget this was all my idea. I claim full responsibility for any resulting cavities, scraped knees, overturned soda bottles, pumpkin carving injuries and popped eardrums.
I'm the sort of person that has the tendency to get a little carried away. Being creatively inclined I am all too familiar with the frustrating feeling that comes from imagination not matching up with reality. I have to remember I have a big imagination. This time I wanted to get it right. This time I wanted to throw an awesome party for Sable. This time I wanted her friends to talk about it for years to come.
So yeah, we pulled out all the stops. Fog machine, strobe light, spooky sounds CD, bubbling cauldron, dessert table, pumpkin carving, talking crows, ghost stories... The works!
And, of course, I couldn't forget the classic Witch Finger Cookies. I'm sure you've seen them before. It's nothing new, but I make them every year and I thought it was time to share them with you. Mine are a bit different. A little less blood and gore and more delicious almond flavour.
Just a little something to make the perfect Halloween party even better!
Fall Into Fall.
It's finally Fall.
I know this because my footsteps are stalked by the soft tinkling of tiny colourful leaves. I know this because all the crab apples fell off the tree before I had the chance to turn them into jam or pie. I know this because it's still warm enough to get away with wearing peep toe heels but cool enough that I need to pair them with a light faux leather coat. I know this because the simple act of turning on the oven is welcomed instead of avoided. I know this because I'm drawn to warm and homey flavours like rich demerara sugar, thick molasses and spicy cinnamon.
To continue my pumpkin theme and demonstrate a creative use of my Pumpkin Pie Spice I've made these Pumpkin Spice Ginger Snaps. They're not your average Ginger Snaps. I've spiced them up a smidgen. Less ginger and more cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Less snappy and more chewy. They're coated with big bold crystals of turbinado sugar and a flavour to match.
Just the push I needed to fall into Fall.
It’s 12am, Do You Know Where Your Cookies Are?
You're awoken by the sound of distant thunder. Flashes of heat lighting stream through the drapes and reflect off the wall. Restless, you lay awake in bed, a thin sheet your only protection against the crisp night air. The heavy blanket long since set aside for colder weather. The scent of imminent rain filters through the open windows and a new breeze disturbs the curtains.
Curiously drawn, you carelessly throw off the sheet and pad downstairs in your bare feet. The light from the refrigerator floods the kitchen and you squint, you're eyes not accustomed to the sudden brightness. You snatch a midnight snack and welcome the darkness back.
Blindly, you find your way to the window. The storm rolls in, clouds of violet and black blanket the sky decorated with intermittent shimmers of silver and gold. You nibble idly on your Lemon Blueberry Cheesecake Cookie as the rain falls in an impetuous torrent.
These cookies are fresh, sweet and quickly disappearing. Just like Summer. Best enjoyed with an accompaniment of thunder and lighting.
Jumping The Gun.
It's time for Bermuda shorts and flip flops, campfires and s'mores, picnics and late night sunsets. Sunglasses that are both ridiculously huge and fabulous. Freshly mowed grass and the adorable buzz of bumblebees. Tan lines and the feel of warm sand between your toes.
It might seem like I'm jumping the gun a bit here. It wasn't a week ago we had bits of stubborn snow clinging to the ground. Canadian Summers are short so we have to make the most of it. We had our first campfire over Easter weekend while there was still a chill in the air and snow on the ground.
In the spirit of the beautiful weather I hope we can hang onto for as long as possible I made S'mores Cookies. For those of us with long or short Summers, now we can enjoy a little piece of it all year long.
Black, Yellow and Sweet All Over.
I spent all afternoon trying to think of something clever to say here. The words did not come. I'm at a loss. I'm forced to resort to distraction.
Look, pretty pictures!
Oh My Darlin’ Clementine.
I present to you the magnificent clementine. So sweet and adorable it fits in the palm of your hand. They appear tiny, innocent and unassuming but the scent and taste that explodes out of this fruit is a welcome surprise.
Everyone has a particular way of eating one. A routine. A ritual.
The glossy orange skin gives way when you pierce your fingernail through to the golden fruit hidden beneath. A fine mist of juice laces the air and fills your senses with the delicate orange fragrance. The skin is pulled back and discarded in one continuous spiral to reveal tiny sleeping segments huddled tightly together. Tenderly peel off the bits of pith clinging stubbornly to the fruit and separate the segments one by one to devour them in sequence.
I look forward to clementines every Winter. Our local grocery store has been unlucky enough to be devoid of any edible batch of mandarins or clementines all season. They've all been either unripe or overripe. Except now of course. Sweet relief indeed!
To celebrate I thought I'd make some cookies. White Chocolate Clementine Cookies.
Now please excuse me while I continue my love affair with this cute little orange.
Reservations About Resolutions.
New year's resolutions. We all make them, but do we ever actually adhere to them? Things like lose ten pounds or volunteer in the community seem to get pushed aside to make room for more interesting goals like dig for the bottom of that jar of Nutella or sit through that Star Trek marathon.
Maybe it's time for some more realistic resolutions. Here are a few of my highlights.
Resolution #115: Redecorate my kitchen because it's time the love was reciprocated.
Resolution #223: Bake my own bread instead of buying sliced loaves like a sucker.
Resolution #52: Get a haircut. You hippie.
Resolution #175: Actually finish writing the first chapter of my book. It's time to stop procrastinating.
Resolution #333: Finally attempt macarons. They're cookies, not the boogeyman.
Resolution #24: Master the extreme difficulty on Tap Tap Revenge because repeated rhythmic tapping is an important life skill.
Resolution #32: Cultivate an intimate relationship with my new macro lens. We make such a cute couple.
Resolution #517: Try more interesting flavour combinations because you just know that peanut butter and jelly was an accident.
That's where these cookies come in. Double Chocolate Cinnamon Cookies. They're filled with deep dark chocolate flavour that's intensified by the the exotic taste of fresh ground cinnamon. Not your average combination, but one I am so glad I tried. Sometimes you have to try something a little wacky to to discover new favourites. This one is definitely one of mine now. Maybe it could be one of yours too.
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