Thursday, December 17, 2009

Shortbread Cookies

So CW has had a crappy couple of days and, to be cute, I thought tonight I would make something special and sweet. He was going out with some work friends and, though he knew he would enjoy himself once he got there was just grumpy. So I embarked on my mission with resolve.

First, I took out our Anyone Can Cook cookbook. It has a "something sweet" section - perfect! But wait: all of the recipes require ingredients that we don't have, stuff like vanilla extract. Damn.

(Surely you see where this is going. What kind of person doesn't have a bottle of vanilla extract? Domestic FAIL.)

Aha! Apparently, all it takes is flour, butter, and sugar to make shortbread cookies! Then, you can throw pretty much whatever you want! All I have for desert seasoning is cinnamon, nutmeg, and frozen blueberries. Luckily, one option the book listed is brown sugar, cinnamon and cloves; I'll just substitute the nutmeg and be all set!

This is where, I suspect, things started going down hill. For one, after I put in 1/3 of the sugar the recipe called for, I wasn't using brown sugar. In fact, I didn't even have it. With a careless shrug, I explained to Maddie that was fine, I'd just throw the spices in anyway and just have milder flavored cookies. Then, I couldn't figure out how to measure out 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon using the grinder we have. So I just cranked that thing until I thought I had the right amount. Next, I dropped about 50% more nutmeg into the mix than I was supposed to.


So when I put in the partially melted stick of butter, I shouldn't have been surprised that the dough wasn't really sticking. I had far too many dry ingredients, I realized. That's: just keep throwing more butter in there!

Almost a full stick later, I figured there was nothing me to be done: gotta get those babies in. So I start squishing the very crumbly dough together with the idea of rolling it out. Except I don't have a rolling pin. Apparently, there is no limit to my ability to improvise; I never knew I had it in me! So I use a juice glass. Still doesn't work, too crumbly.

"Well, I'll just mold it into little cookies with my hands!" I say to Maddie, who leaves the kitchen for her couch to wait for CW, and sanity, to return to the household.

I bang those cookies together and toss 'em in the oven for 20 minutes. Open the door: still pretty much raw dough. 10 more minutes later: no change.

This is where, if I had guests coming or something, I'd prolly just cry. Goddamnit, I just want to be a domestic goddess, is that too much to ask?? But in this situation, there is no pressure, and think CW will get a greater laugh out of it as it is.

So I make some hot cider instead while I wait for him to come home and shake his head at me. (I am capable of recipies with three steps or less: pour cider into pot, turn heat on low, and add cinnamon. Even that took a few tries; twice already, I've boiled over a pot of cider. Very sticky.)


  1. So, I have to admit I heard a little about this story already, but to re read it here with your own words had me basically in tears laughing here at my desk! I like to take heart in the fact that we all try to do what we can for those we care about, but sometimes it just doesn't come out the way we plan!

  2. You rock flutterbyegirloo! Thanks for the comment and keeping me motivated here! :)