Cookies

Whoa. I miss cable. Like, a lot. Remember a few weeks ago I was all brave cancelled my cable? Well, I miss it. Sure, I mean, I get my Mad Men fix and I watch Game of Thrones (totally illegally) ever week. But the real question–which I’m too ashamed to google to find out myself–is…how is Bethenny? What’s up with her and Jason? Are they okay? Also, Shahs of Sunset…is it awful in a good way or just straight up unbearable?

Last weekend I was at the bar and a friend made a Shahs of Sunset joke and it completely went over my head. Everyone laughed except me! I felt left out, guys. On the flip side, being sans cable has me reading books out of desperation, so that’s cool I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing.

I just finished Gabrielle Hamilton’s book, Blood, Bones and Butter, and whoa. Phew. If you’re looking for a new read, look no further–this is it. The writing is so beautiful, her journey so awesome and untraditional, and her whole perspective on food and cooking is really interesting. It’s lovely stuff.

Let’s talk about these fine looking cookies. They’re bright, spongy in texture (this is good!) and so refreshing. Have you ever had a refreshing cookie? Well…here ya go. The recipe, a random rant from moi, along with step-by-step photos are over on The Tasty Kitchen blog. GO!

And then come back here to tell me how Bethenny is doing. Okay?!

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We all love Larry David, right? I’m just going to speak for everyone, and say yes, yes we all love Larry David. Now, have you seen his recent parking lot fiasco? He’s confused by the parking lot ticket machine, people are honking, someone has to get out of their car to assist him–the whole thing is just incredible. It made me recall my very own, real life Larry David encounter, and omg did it not disappoint. It was Curb Your Enthusaism in real life. IRL!!!

STORY TIIIIIME!

A few Christmases ago, I was on a flight from LA to Miami. I got off the ridiculously packed flight, headed down to baggage claim and waited–along with the rest of the gajillion people that were on my flight. We waited, and waited, and waited some more. We waited so long that my dad got sick of driving around in circles and finally parked the car to join me in this epically long wait. As we were all learning this horrible lesson in patience, I looked up and noticed this really tall man with bushy grey hair, a wrinkled blazer, faded jeans and a worn baseball cap standing directly in front of me. It was Larry David. And he was looking around looking really, really confused.

A small latin man approached him and told him in broken English that he was his driver. Larry nodded. The driver motioned for him to go to wait in the car. And Larry, in his famous awkward disposition, was like, “Ok, ok, well you’re gonna get my luggage then?” The driver nodded.

Larry wasn’t done. He continued, “Ok, ok, well it’s gonna be the black suitcase. But they’re all gonna be black, so you have to check the tag. It’ll be the black one. Make sure you check the tag.” The driver nodded, obviously having done this a million times. Larry left…only to return, I’m not kidding you, like a minute later. He asked, “Which one is your car? The black one? Which black one?” The driver proceeded to tell him which black car was his. Larry left. Again.

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Uhhh…I might be a lil’ addicted to Instagram. It’s like instant blogging. It’s impulsive, nosy (hello instagram stalking!) and my current fav way to procrastinate.

I’m convinced that most of these various social networking sites were invented to give us something to do while we collectively wait in line at the post office. Let’s NOT talk to the person standing next to us…no, that’d be scary. But comment on a strangers’s picture of their cute newborn/new shoes/lunch/dessert? Meh…perfectly normal.

I like our lives now. Technology has made our lives weird and awesome. I’m into it. This post is brought to you by my Instagram addiction. I peeped a picture from Suann of a salty oatmeal cookie (from Teaism in Washington D.C.). I was intrigued. Salty Oatmeal Cookie? Ummm…I like salt. And oatmeal…and cookies.

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Let’s talk my favorite holiday subject: presents!!

Look, I know I’m supposed to act all adult-like and humble and and be like, “Me? Nah…I don’t need a present. Don’t get me a present. I have everything I need…”

But can we be honest? I love presents. And sure I do have most things I need, but I still have wants. Duh.

I like that someone got in their car, went somewhere, picked something out just for me. I like that someone wrapped something, put a bow on it…just for me. Presents–when thoughtful–feel warm and sweet, and are just plain awesome.

If someone baked me something, put it in a glass jar, learned how to make a pom-pom (just for me!) and gave it to me…swoon. Seriously, can we get friend married?

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Have I ever told you I’m really bad at math? Don’t ask me math questions. And please answer mine. If I’m asking, it means they’re serious and important.

For instance, if I for some reason burst into our office, covered in flour, and ask you how many grams 3/4 of a cup of flour is…it’s important. Really important.

Also, I’m a little heavy handed with the sugar when putting it in my coffee. Don’t judge me.

Let’s do cookie math, shall we? It’s way more fun than normal, real life math flour math…mainly because we get to eat this math.

This recipe yields 50 small cookies. For each cookie sandwich you’ll need two buttery, shortbread cookies and one small teaspoon of dulce de leche. Each cookie is about two bites. That means this recipe will give you 50 glorious, delicious bites of my childhood.

Yes, that’s right. These cookies you see here were some of the first I baked up. Ever.

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Real talk. Are you ready?

On Friday…(the one that just passed) I was a huge brat. I woke up extra early to show the day who’s who and by noon I had four failed recipes. Every bowl I owned was in the sink. Flour was all over the floor. There was melted butter in my bangs. Soo…to no surprise, I had major attitude. Like major. So I was like, Cool, I’m gonna sit outside eat two tacos, have an iced tea and I’ll feel better.

Didn’t work. Came home…still had an attitude.

I decided to sit in my mess of a kitchen and open up a new book that just arrived: Christina Tosi’s, Momofuku Milk Bar. Right after the introduction there is a section…and it’s called ‘Real Talk.’

Her Real Talk? Stop complaining. Keep your cool. Baking with no AC totally sweating? Shut up. No really…just shut up. Your mixer broke and you have 100 pounds of cookie dough to mix? Woman-up…roll up your sleeves…time to get busy.

Her hardbody, total attitude of pep talk is what I needed. Sometimes all of us need someone to set us straight. Christina did it. Girl crush? Totally.

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I have getting older plans. Not just older like, fifty-five…but like older older. You know…

And I’ve decided that when I’m that age, I’m gonna have a group of old lady friends..and we’re gonna be ladies who lunch. On the regular.

We’re gonna get dressed up, wear brooches on our tops, curl our hairs all nice, go to lunch, gossip and laugh a lot…and probably get really drunk. Because I mean, why not…we’re gonna die soon.

I got this idea when I met my future-older-self in the elevator, at a museum, this past weekend.

This older woman was with her group of girlfriends. They looked beautiful in pretty outfits. Their make-up was done perfectly. Their eyes were warm and their laughs were genuine.

They chatted to each other about what they had for lunch (cobb salad!) and who their favorite contemporary artists were. I smiled at them. I told them they looked nice. I totally had girl crushes on them.

And then one of the women turned to me and said something that I’ll never forget. She said, “Always dress for the elevator, honey. You never know who you’ll be stuck in one with.”

Lady wisdom. I dig it.

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Hi there! I have a request. Actually…it’s more like a favor.

I know this weekend you probably have some important things to do like errands or laundry or studying or organizing some closet you’ve been putting off.

I think you should blow it off. Yes, I’m telling you to be irresponsible.

Here’s the thing: we work too much, we run too many errands, we have too many to-do lists. Me included. But sometimes we have to put our foot down and choose fun. We gotta show our responsibilities who’s in charge in this relationship. And guess what…you are.

So I say choose fun. Just this once.

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What’s uuuuuuup?!

Oh what am I doing, you ask?

Nothing much…just plugged away this weekend…curing big world problems…like the issue of how to get Rocky Road in your face (sans Rocky Road ice cream). Were you aware this was an issue? It totally WAS. Don’t worry; I figured it out.

First way: this milkshake. Sure you can use rocky road ice cream. I realize this. But then you wouldn’t have toasted marshmallow. And really that’s the whole thing about this milkshake. I was totally in it for the burnt marshmallows.

Then there are these Rocky Road cookies. Chocolate making out with chocolate, walnuts and marshmallows all folded in. Ma-jor.

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I have an affinity for old things.

Vintage dresses, creaky old houses, boots from the flea market, random old family photos I find in the street…I dunno…I dig it all. I think it’s because I like things with history and stories attached…stuff that’s aged.  I just, myself, don’t want to be aged. I confuse myself. Constantly.

Icebox Cakes have a bit of history. They’re aged like all that stuff listed above, though I’m entirely sure about its history (if you know, please leave it in the comments!!), I do know that this dessert is what someone must’ve stumbled upon/dreamed up when they were desperate for something fast, easy and amazing. Calling for only two ingredients (chocolate wafers and whipped cream), means anyone at any time can do this successfully.

Can we talk cake deets?

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