Cherry Tuiles

These cookies bring up existential questions about what constitutes a 'cookie'. If Martha hadn't put the word "COOKIES" in big, bold type on the front of the book, I would have thought I was making candy of some sort, since the mixer didn't get used and corn syrup was involved. Not that I mind; I like making candy, too. It's just that I don't like it when I'm not sure if I stand in cookie-shire or candy-land. It makes me nervous.



I hate to be cliche, but I'm going to be anyway, and refer to the dictionary to sort this out for me (I was going to say 'us', but I'm probably the only one who cares). OK, because I'm lazy and don't want to go get the real dictionary, Dictionary.com defines 'cookie' as: "a small cake made from stiff, sweet dough rolled and sliced or dropped by spoonfuls on a large, flat pan (cookie sheet) and baked." I guess that's as good a definition as any, and I suppose it applies here, since I made a dough, dropped it onto a cookie sheet and baked it.



(Doesn't the dough look gross? It actually was tasty, kind of like brown sugar fudge... but it looks like vomit.)

But, the definition of 'cookie' brings up more issues. If a 'cookie' must be dropped onto and baked on a cookie sheet, what about brownies? What about lemon squares? What about those tiny pecan pies you get at Kroger at Christmastime? If those aren't cookies, then Martha is lying to me about them, because she's included them in her COOKIE book. And Martha Can't Lie! (Except for that whole insider trading thing... but we won't talk about that.) My world has been shaken to its core. The only recourse is to go eat some tuiles.



The dough was easy enough to put together, and the baking went well, really no more complicated than any other cookie. The excitement happens when you get to take the cookies off the baking sheet. You are supposed to form them around a rolling pin or a cannoli mold (who has cannoli molds? really?), and I tried for the first couple batches. Then I said "F-it" and decided my cherry tuiles would be flat, which makes for easier storage anyway.



About one third turned out looking pretty and nice, and the remainder were all sorts of misshapen, with big holes in their middles. But, even the ugly ones were really tasty. They kind of remind me of a really thin Worther's Original Caramel, with cherries. I bet they'd be yummy crunched up over ice cream, but we just ate them plain, and they were still tasty, despite the existential angst they caused.

Next week: Burbon Currant Cookies, p. 152.

Truffle Brownies

These are brownies for a serious chocolate lover. These do not mess around with 'cocoa powder' or 'chocolate-flavored chips' or 'walnuts' or any of that nonsense. These are brownies with tons of good baking chocolate baked in, and more chocolate on top. These are brownies that don't mess around.



These brownies were dense and moist, and (surprise!) super chocoate-y. The ganache topping was a little soft for my taste and only really set up after days in the refrigerator, but you could just add more chocolate and you'd take care of that. I tried to serve these with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, but either I am a weakling or our freezer is set too high, so that didn't happen. And, frankly I don't think I could have eaten ice cream, too, since the brownies were so rich.



Next week: Cherry Tuiles, p. 28

Double Chocolate Coconut Cookies

Apparently I was not thinking when I was making these cookies. I decided to start baking while waiting for some workmen to come around the house. I didn't want them to think that I just sit at home and watch re-runs of Monster Quest on the History Channel all day (which I totally don't do... really). So, I figured that making cookies would make me look productive.



But, I totally spaced. Perhaps I was thinking too much of not looking like a schmuck , but I really didn't have my head in the game on these cookies. First, I forgot to add the eggs until after I'd added the dry ingredients.



Then, I added the coconut, walnuts and white chocolate chips, only to realize later that I had forgotten to add the vanilla. Who knows what else I forgot to add.



But believe it or not, the cookies turned out a-ok. I guess these are pretty ditz-proof, which is always a plus, since I definitely lean towards the ditzy side sometimes.

I'm not a huge fan of white chocolate, so these really weren't my cup of tea. But I bet they'd be super yummy with regular chocolate chips. One of my tasters said they were 'pretty f-ing good,' so I suppose they count as a success.



Next week: Truffle Brownies, p. 284

Chocolate pistachio Biscotti

There's something about shelled pistachios that always makes me vaguely uncomfortable. They remind me of raw oysters or mussels or something. It probably makes me crazy, but they just ick me out a little bit. So, naturally I will begin this post with a picture of a big bowl of shelled pistachios.



I bought this cocoa powder from the fancy-pants grocery store near our house. I don't know if we're the only ones that this happens to, but it seems to me like we always end up living closer to the fancy grocery store (the one that has really great produce, but charges about three times more for everything) than the regular one. It's really not a good thing. Way too often, I get lazy and do my shopping there, and end up spending too much.

But, this fancy-pants coca powder is from the fancy-pants grocery store. It's really good. I could sit and smell it for hours. It would be like huffing paint or something, except that it's not illegal and I get to keep all my brain cells.



Anyway, biscotti are made by baking a big log of dough until it's almost cooked through, slicing it on the bias, and baking the slices a little longer to dry them out and get them nice and crunchy. So, if you make these cookies, make sure that you let the log of dough cook through before trying to slice them. They fall apart if they're not cooked enough. I learned that the hard way.



I think this is the only one that ended up looking semi-respectable. But, even the most mangled biscotti is still tasty. These are seriously good cookies, really chocolaty and a little fudge-y with the salted pistachios as a nice counter-balance to their sweetness. Good enough to make up for making me feel awkward around the pistachios.

Next week: Double Chocolate Coconut Cookies, p. 173