Thomas Keller's Cookies

Today I blog about a newly acquired recipe and my incredibly strong feelings about all the important attributes of a homemade cookie. Though perhaps as a 23 year old, unmarried, mother of none I don't quite fit the profile of a baked goods blogger, the usage of a new chocolate chip cookie recipe was too great an event in my life to go undocumented. I have for my entire childhood (and adult life) used one single chocolate chip cookie recipe from a Kid's Cooking cookbook. I have baked these cookies so many times that I have the entire recipe memorized down to the color of the spoons in the picture on that page. Today, an outside source emailed me a copy of Thomas Keller's Chocolate Chip cookie recipe recorded on a baking blogger's page. At first I balked at the idea of using any other recipe but I was soon won over by the blogger's enthusiasm and insistence that the cookies stayed soft and moist even to the edges. A scan of the recipe and my cupboard revealed I had just enough butter and eggs to make it. Fate. Half a Law and Order episode and one sore arm later I realized I must invest in an electric mixer for my baking adventures to ever go beyond banana bread and cookies calling for melted butter. Apart from my lack of a mixer all was going fine until I saw that the recipe called for an entire teaspoon of salt. I stopped dead in my tracks. I rarely ever threw more than a pinch or two of salt into anything I baked. But would I really question the recipe of Thomas Keller? Was I so arrogant a baker that I would diminish his salt to a pinch (and add some uncalled for vanilla while I was at it)? I did not diminish the salt, but did (just before rolling dough-balls) add just three drops of vanilla. As promised, my cookies came out thick and moist, and in exactly the prescribed amount of time (a rare occurrence in my crapshoot of an oven). However, there was just a hint of too much salt and not enough vanilla. I should have listened to my gut, the final recipient and judge of cookies after all. The cookies were good, but I didn't happily make myself sick eating as many as I could while they were still warm. All in all I will sleep peacefully tonight knowing that in my eyes, my childhood chocolate chip recipe has not been surpassed.

I love the IRS?

I did my taxes the day before they were due, per usual, and got so much money back I'm afraid I did them wrong.  However, having averted jail by gettin' 'em done, I've already begun a slew of necessary but previously avoided purchases.  I intended to buy new underwear, but after half an hour of digging through lace, polka-dots, and granny panties I think I'll stick with my ratty old circa 1994 collection for the time being.  At least they're all very soft.  I did spring for $40 little blue sneakers to replace my chucks that are quickly becoming see-through, and also bought a shiny blue bike.  It is the right size for me (which is a relief after riding one meant for a 6 footer for two weeks) but it is pretty slow and heavy which I'm finding a little exhausting.  The gear shifter is broken, but it looks easily fixable by just tightening the connecting wire, so I'm going to give that a shot.  If that doesn't remedy the situation maybe I'll just end up with killer thighs, "Triplets of Belleville" style.  In all honesty I'm starting to think I should toss out my tight-fisted midwestern ways and use my hard earned tax return to buy myself a decent bike, not just a cheap lugger that'll get me from A to B.

Shuffle off to Buffalo

Generally I hate itunes shuffle (I can't handle the schizophrenic nature of my library) but on those rare occasions that a song of pure genius that you had no idea you even had comes on, I forgive all past transgressions.  Jamiroquai.  Canned Heat.  I just might still remember the choreography from the finale of Center Stage.  I may have to invest in a red tutu.

My roommate is a rockstar.

Ingrid got a $15,000 scholarship to NYU!!  Ten years from now I'll be saying I knew her when...

In other news, I'm eating butternut squash soup and steamed broccoli.  Surely a shocker for everyone who never thought they'd live to see the day that I acknowledged vegetables as a major food group.

In other news, I've spent the last few days catching up with friends from school that I've only seen a few times since graduation last May.  Needless to say, it was fantastic to see them.  Friday night Ben and I saw the second preview of Joe Turner's Come and Gone.  Not sure how I felt about it.  I do have to admit that Ben slept through the first 45 minutes and I slept through the scene in which they explained who Joe Turner was... but still, it felt jumbled and without a clear message.  Had it just been a presentation of personalities dealing with the issues of self identification and legal self ownership as African Americans in post civil war Pittsburgh, it would have been fascinating enough.  Throw in a vision of bones rising from the sea and a witch doctor type killing pigeons at dawn and rattling on about a shiny man, and I'm trying to delve into some deeper metaphorical understanding.  Finish off with a long lost wife shouting bible verses to a crazed husband who's tearing clothes, cutting flesh, and rebuking God, the scene culminating in (a lovely effect of) gold glitter falling from the sky and exposing the crazed husband as the witch doctor's "shiny man", and you've got one severely furrowed brow.  I'm not one to enjoy a neatly packaged "boy gets girl and they sing and dance" type show, but this metaphorical extravaganza may have been a bit beyond me.  It raised a lot of fascinating social and cultural issues, but never explored any single one beyond a superficial level.  Definitely worth seeing though, if someone offers you a free ticket.

In a continuation of seeing Syracuse friends, I had quite an adventure today.  Starting off with an Upper East Side brunch, we schlep-ed down to Chelsea to begin an afternoon of dildo shopping.  After one sleazy shop there and a few equally unsuccessful stops in the West Village we ended up at Babeland in Soho.  What an adorable little store.  Friendly sales girls, a fantastic color scheme, and the examination of a few ridiculously hi-tech and discreet vibrators left me glowing with feminine sexual empowerment.  I was also relieved to find dildos in sizes better suited for us lesbians of the "gold star" persuasion.

Tomorrow I devote to the NYT's Monday crossword, yoga, and the search for the perfect bicycle.  Goodnight!

Initiation

Hello hello!  I'm not really sure how to start out since I'm not blogging about anything in particular, just writing bits of my life that strike me as worthy of internet posting.  Including this moment in my life right now. 

I'm sitting in my living room, christening my blog, and hear "TONY!!" from Ingrid's room, followed by a jumbled conversation (in a thick Brooklyn accent that her NC roots did not bestow on her) in which she cannot come up with the movie that "A Whole New World" is from.  Shouting "Aladdin!!" from the couch, I marvel at the fact that she just got into NYU for a masters in film without knowing this essential piece of cinematic trivia.  I love my roommate, I love my apartment, I love my neighborhood, I love my life...

I'm a Michigander, born and raised in the Mitten State.  I've since relocated to Brooklyn where I spend my days barista-ing, adventuring, and enjoying every stranger who talks to me on the 2 train.  I've even introduced these east-coasters to the near godliness of homemade banana bread slathered in cream cheese.  Come say hello and perhaps I'll bake you a loaf.