Oh, we've all been there; you find a Tupperware of cookies in some garbage and the next thing you know you're 40 feet in the air with your head encased in plastic.
I know. It's obvious. But it's holiday time, and I wanted to decorate some cookies. And I have to say, if you decide to get one egregiously holiday-themed product this year, this is not a bad one to choose (especially compared to Pringles Peppermint or whatever). Straight, it tastes a bit like sweet coffee made with ashes, but mix in some hot milk and by golly you got a nog goin'!
Plus, of all the ridiculous liquors I've gotten, this one seems to make the most sense, baking-wise. Why bother with nutmeg and cinnamon and actual ginger when you can just use a dollop of Kahlúa Gingerbread? Cut your prep [...]
“Oh, you’re Jessica Knoll,” she says to a young woman in a lace top who writes a great deal for the magazine. “Kate told me you’re a rock star,” she says of her predecessor, Kate White. “But Kate’s gone, so it doesn’t matter now.”
Mwa ha ha! For New York magazine (and The Cut), Carl Swanson sits in on Joanna Coles' first meeting as editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan, where a plate of untouched cookies vaguely resembles a bowl of fairy-tale poison apples (from here, at least). But if poison were rousing.
…piñata cookies for Cinco de Mayo this weekend! We could, and should, also make real piñatas of our grandmothers. (But don't go hang it in the East River park in Manhattan — there've been reports of a 12 year-old girl there who will leap-frog your stick-wielding, blindfolded kindergartener in order to body slam the piñata to the ground. Eyewitnesses also state that she (obviously) brought bigger hands and pockets than everyone else at the party.)
If you live in certain parts of the US, your yearly Girl Scout Cookies have one set of names, and if you live in certain other parts of the US, they have another. This rift exists because two separate companies with two separate distribution deals make Girl Scout cookies from the same recipes: Little Brownie Bakers, and ABC Smart Cookies.
Here, for example, is what LBB calls their chocolate/peanut butter cookies: Tagalongs. Great name—friendly, playful, lends a pleasant sense memory to thoughts about the Philippine language Tagalog. Here is what ABC calls the same cookie: Peanut Butter Patties. That is a bad name for a cookie. [...]
There's a question mark at the end of the title here because if anything is subjective, it's the goodness of a sugar cookie. Do you like them crispy? Soft? Fluffy? Dense? Super sweet, or should the frosting take care of that? I'll give you my grandma's recipe, which creates a scarily delicate dough that bakes up into my personal favorite sugar cookies. They're not soft or cakey, but not crispy or crunchy. I guess they're kind of chewy? But not too chewy. They aren't super sweet, and depending on how much nutmeg you dash into them, they have a little more oomph than just "sugar and butter flavored." Plus, they [...]
Before I give you this recipe of recipes, here's a little disjointed tale: as a kid, I'd bring these cookies to school for my birthday, which was already not the perfect birthday to have seeing as how it was also Abe "The Best" Lincoln's, so it was like "Abe, Abe, Abe… ugh, Jane too, I guess. Did you at least bring cookies since, you know, you aren't even Abe Lincoln?" In an attempt to win the room over during the remaining three minutes of the school day, I'd whip these bad boys out along with some milk because Hawaiian Punch with cupcakes is literally the most disgusting birthday meal [...]
These cookies perform a Rumplestiltskin-style trick: One minute you’ve got a pile of beans, the next minute, gooey, decadent, I-want-to-eat-every-last-one cookies. It defies logic. And it sounds more than a little gross, and just, *why* would anyone do this, and how, and, really, WHAT?!?
Believe me I know!
Nevertheless, I made them. I’ve been fixated on chickpeas for weeks now (honey-roasted chickpeas, anyone?), and also on making the perfect peanut-butter-olive-oil-dark-chocolate-chip cookies. (You would not believe how many deliciously imperfect pb cookies I have in my freezer right now.) But at last, these two obsessions collided, and I am in awe. Remember the booodseees? No? After eating these, [...]
Have you ever had a realization, usually sparked by something small, that nearly reduces you to tears over how incredible humans are? That the existence of some bizarre thing we've created proves how silly and creative and purely beautiful we are? This happens to me a lot. I watch a YouTube video of a man playing clarinet while covered in bees, or listen to a song about thrift shopping, or look at the photo my dad texted me of his garden gnome, and I cry because humans are so weird. All of us. We are entirely united in our weirdness.
This recently happened to me while thinking about Bubblegum Vodka.