Joy the Baker

Let’s play a game called What’s on Your Nightstand?.  What?  Too personal?  Oooh come on!  We’re all friends here.  Let’s try to figure out what our night stands say about the state of our lives.

On my night stand is:

1 Ikea lamp.

A water color painting made by my aunt in the 80’s.

A cup of what once was hot lemon water with honey, now just a mass of lemon seeds at the bottom of a mug.

A glass bowl with a ring and a business card for a French bed and breakfast.

Two books:  Unaccustomed Earth and Seize the Day.

My credit card, and a small bowl with cookie crumbs in it… Lemon Rosemary Palmier cookie crumbs.

What might my night stand contents say about me?  I love a home furnishing bargain.  When I run out of tea I make do with lemons.  I can’t sleep in jewelry and I like to daydream about vacationing in the French countryside. I either read a book or go internet shopping before I fall asleep, and I eat cookies in bed.  All things considered, it seems like a pretty cushy and self indulgent life…. plus, cookies!

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Dear My Bank,

We’ve known each other for a long time.  You know how I deposit my humble paychecks every so often, how I rarely use the ATM, and how I hate to use my debit card at the gas station.  I know that you like to decorate with bullet-proof glass… guns, I get it… have pens that don’t always work, and always want me to sign up for your credit card.  As much as I hate to admit it, we sort of have a thing going.

Let’s be honest Bank.  We’re not friends.  We don’t even really like each other very much.  I know that you have rules.  You know… if you’re being honest with yourself, that I do my very best to follow your rules.  And I do… Bank…..! Unless, I suppose, I just forget to add one payment to my balance books, leading me to believe I have several hundred dollars in you, Bank… instead of less than zero.

Here’s my beef with you… Bank!  Jerky bank.  When you penalize me several times in a row for spending money that I thought I had, well… that doesn’t get me any closer to having the money that you’d like to take.  How on Earth did you determine that $33 was an acceptable overdraft charge?  Why are you allowed to take money that I don’t have?  You know what I think?  I think you’re taking advantage of my mistake.  You know me, Bank.  You know that I don’t like to spend money I don’t have… and when I do… accidentally… you use that as an opportunity to take advantage of me.

That’s reeeeeaal crappy.

Nobody likes you.  I’ve done the research.  It’s true.

Nobody will ever… not even once… make you cookies just because you’re nice.  Why?  Because you’re not nice.

Now you know.

Love,

Joy

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It’s August 3, 2009 and I refuse to believe a) that summer is almost over, and b) that we’re a handful of months away from 2010.  Turns out that whether I believe or refuse to believe these two things… they’re still true.  

It’s August 3, 2009 and I will openly admit that in the past few days I’ve been stress eating like a maniac over these picnic plans.  I’m not proud.  

It’s August 3, 2009 and tonight is the night I’m going to polish off the frozen dough balls in my freezer.  Again, not proud.

It’s August 3, 2009 and I’m thinking it’s going to be really awkward when Dr Martens come back into style and I bust out my original pair that I sported back in middle school.  Yes, I still have them.  Yes, they still fit.  

It’s August 3, 2009 and among the many other things I’m thankful for today, I’m also thankful for internet shoe shopping and these beautiful thumbprint cookies.  

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I love a good weekend project, especially when that project involves my fingers in loads of cookie dough.

I’ll admit that I may be waaaay behind the times on this trick.  It’s the sort of trick that super moms have on lock to make them look even more awesome than they already are.  Since I haven’t yet produced other people with my body, this trick is just now hitting my radar.

The idea is this:  one day… (say, maybe a lazy Saturday morning) whip up a couple batches of your favorite cookie dough.  Dollop that cookie dough onto a cookie sheet, all close like.  Throw the entire cookie sheet into the freezer.  Freeze the dough balls, then throw them into a zip lock bag and back into the freezer.  You know what that means?  All you have to do is flick on the oven and throw in a few dough balls anytime you want fresh baked cookies!  Dang this livin’ is easy!

This frozen dough ball situation is key and here’s why:

You and the family can have  fresh baked cookies any and every night.

Surprise guests?  No problem at all… you just happened to be whipping up a batch of fresh cookies.  Taaadaaa!

Bake ‘em directly from frozen…. do it!

Frozen dough balls in the middle of the night?  I won’t tell a soul.  Can I be honest?  I eat the dough balls more often than I actually bake the cookies.  In fact… be right back.  Dough ball for breakfast.

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You know what?  You deserve a break.  Seriously.  It’s Saturday.  Let’s take it easy.

I know… I know.  You have that whole list of things to do.  Sure, you need to get the car washed.  Yes, there’s that thing about going to the pet store, and getting a present for your mother-in-law’s church friend’s niece.  You’ve got a lot on your plate.  I know.  But… well what would happen, if for today, you kicked the list to the curb and kicked you feet up on the couch?

I’ll tell you what would happen.  The car would stay dirty, the pet store would miss you, and your mother-in-law’s church friend’s niece would have one less present at her party.  She’ll have enough presents.  Go on… take a break.

Now… if you’re anything like me, you have a list and you can’t stand not to start crossing tasks off.  Here’s my tip:  make a new list.  I’ll help.  On our new list are these things: go to the farmer’s market and buy the prettiest cherries you can get your hands on, treat yourself to frozen yogurt, call that friend you’ve been meaning to call, watch at least three hours of a Law and Order marathon, and have two glasses of wine with dinner… dinner out.

See?  Better list.  It’s the list you should be working on this Saturday.

Aaaaand, if you wanted to add the making of these sugar cookies to the list… forget about it.  These can go on your Sunday to-do list.  Yea.  Sunday.

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Dear Girl (that sat next to me on the plane last night),

Hi.  How are you?  This is just a quick note to let you know that you sat on my glasses.  I know that you know that you sat on my glasses.  You did, after all,  hand them back to me crazy mangled.  I trust that you know what shape glasses generally assume.

I understand that there are two active parties in this tragedy.  There’s the person that accidentally left her glasses in the middle seat next to her while she properly stowed her purse under the seat in from of her…. that’s me.  There’s also the person that was in such a hurry to get into that second row middle seat, that didn’t let the girl with the glasses on the aisle properly acclimate before barging in… that’s you.  So, you sat on my glasses.

My favorite part about you sitting on my glasses, was how you showed exactly zero remorse for the damage you caused.  That was awesome.  Hey… remember that part when I was very obviously trying to bend them back in shape in front of you?  Yea… that was pretty fun too.  That was me being passive aggressive.  I bet that was your favorite part.

Oh well, they’re just glasses, right?  Next time, I’ll watch where I put my glasses if you watch where you put your body.  Deal?

Sincerely,

Joy

And now… dark chocolate cookies.  Let’s do this.

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This I Used To Believe

I believed that if I wore  a stretched out paperclip across my front teeth I would be one of the cool kids with a retainer.  It turns our that retainers only seem cool when you don’t actually have to wear one.

I believed that if I sunk down in my chair low enough in Honors Algebra, I wouldn’t be called on the answer questions that I didn’t have answers to.  I didn’t have answers to any… aaany of the questions.  In reality, that posture was like a giant, neon, blinking arrow pointed right in my direction.

I believed that if I stayed up all night chewing gum, I was bound to get the part of Violet Beauregarde in the sixth grade performance of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory.  That part went to my best friend Lindsay.  What does it say about me if I still think about that from time to time?

I believed that Dylan would never leave Brenda on Beverly Hills, 90210.  Um… remember what happened in the pool?  With Kelly!? Brenda’s best friend!?  Yea… so that didn’t work out.

I believed that really good cookies simply had to have at least a few cups of all-purpose flour flour in them.  These Flourless Peanut Butter Cookies changed my mind.  Seriously.  I know you’re thinking  They’re better than you think.  Way way better.  These are great!

This post was inspired by last weeks episode of  This American Life which, in turn, was inspired by the international essay project, This I Believe.  Yaaaaay for  public radio!

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Here’s a fun game to play:

Grab a chef.  Any chef will do.

Ask that chef what their favorite Oatmeal Cookie recipe is.  I’ll bet you my favorite slippers (not that you would want those) that their favorite recipe for Oatmeal Cookies is the recipe right there on the Quaker Oats can.

I know… too easy right?  Take the easy.  Accept the easy.  Some things are complicated.  Other things are as simple as the Oatmeal Cookie recipe that I’ve been making since I was old enough to reach the counter.

Embrace the good, then add cherries and chocolate.

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I need this recipe in my back pocket. It’s the recipe that tricks everyone into thinking that I’m the girl with a constant supply of eggs, flour, butter and every other baking necessity constantly on hand. In reality, I often only have one egg in the fridge, and just enough butter to have to take an trip to the store.

Don’t believe me? Would I lie? Um… no.

Here’s one thing I do fib about: sleeping. I just woke up from a nap. I have sleepy nap time marks on my face… totally undeniable napping has just occurred. If you were to ask me if I just woke up from a nap, I would deny it up and down. I dunno… just a little weirdness from Joy the Baker. I prefer to think of the white lie as somehow charming, and the sleep marked face as evidence of a guilty but of so indulgent afternoon.

Enough about napping. Go check your fridge for that lone egg and stick of butter, and you must have a bit of jam in there too!

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What would it feel like if vacations lasted forever?  Would it feel as good as I think it would?  Yes.  Yes, it would.

Reality hits hard after you’ve had days to let your brain ease into a happy mush.

I’m not complaining.  Does it sound like I’m complaining?  Ok… maybe a little.  It’s just hard to let vacation time slip out of my hands.

Maybe permanent vacation is like only eating these cookies for the rest of your days.  Sure, they have both chocolate and vanilla, but you can’t eat cookies forever.  They’d lose their cookie goodness.  Maybe permanent vacation would somehow start to feel like work.  Constant cookies and vacation? I’d be willing to experiment  just to see how the two would treat me after a few years.

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I’ve now typed about seven different introductions to this post, only to completely delete them all.  

I’m trying my best to avoid words like unemployment, recession, war and ceasefire.  Ugh…  the world seems to be in the thick of it right now, and here we are just trying to work it out for ourselves everyday.  

I don’t have epic solutions to offer you, but I do have a band-aid:  lots of love and loads of sugar.  

How will that do you?

Let’s make Palmiers.  Let’s make Elephant Ears.  And you know what?  Let’s use store bought puff pastry, because we’re going to need these cookies toot sweet!

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Black. White.

Chocolate. Vanilla.

Cake. Cookie.

My favorite cookies, ever.

Yes. I can have it all.

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There are some things in the world that make me feel like an adult. Most of the time my brain likes to idle in the fact that I’m somewhere between ten and twelve years old. When I thought I was pretty cool. When I thought I had a pretty good handle on things. Before the painfully awkward Blossom hats and frizzy hair set in.

Something has happened though. Time I suppose. I’ve turned around and been hit square in the face with what feels like adult things.

Um… retirement plan? Yea… I have one. It’s totally weird.

Going to the airport by myself? Um… hello!? I need an adult to carry my boarding pass and my ID and to make sure I have matching socks on! Oh… I am the adult. Seriously?

Shoe shopping. No one is there to pinch the edge of my shoe and make sure I have enough toe room. How am I supposed to know if they fit!? I can’t very well pinch my own shoes!

And then there are things that show me that maybe I’m not so adult after all.

My Mom still nags me to write holiday and birthday thank you notes.

I love hot chocolate with marshmallows. I mean seriously. Come on! That’s some good stuff.

And these Peppermint Meringues remind me of the soft after dinner mints that I used to horde from my favorite Italian restaurant growing up. Do you know the mints I’m talking about? The somewhat chalky, melt in your mouth, white mints? I’m still a sucker for those things. I may have eaten them for dinner a few weeks back. Don’t judge me.

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To Do:  Thursday 11.6.08

-Scowl at 6:30 am alarm clock.

-Randomly hit night stand in search of snooze button.

-Search the bed for warmth, find it, snuggle hardcore.

-Force self out of bed.  Write.  Seriously.  Write something.   

-Um…. snuggle more.  It’s not a crime.

-Dress.  Aroma Cafe.  Tea.  Breakfast.  Dreamy.

-Write, seriously, you have to write.

-Jump on the bed.  

-Make Sugar Crusted Ginger Cookies-  eat a great deal of the dough.

-Watch Foodproof videos.

-Snuggle more.  For your health.

-Think about showering.  

-Shower.

-Discuss cheese.  Make cheese look pretty.

-Bourbon.  Drink some.

-Bed.  Snuggle.  Prepare to scowl at forthcoming early alarm clock.  

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I come to you with these pictures and recipes not knowing whether this combination of treats is awesome or terrifying.  Blood and Bones.

Before we get down to the treats, can I share something with you?  I’m not a big fan of Halloween.  Honestly,  it scares me a bit.  The whole night seems unpredictable and slightly unstable to me, even as an adult.  It’s the costumes.  See, there are two categories of Halloween costumes that just chill me to the bone.

One one hand, there are the girls that use Halloween as an excuse to wear as little clothes as possible.  Are you one of these girls?  Are you dressing up as a ’sexy boy scout’ this Halloween?  What on earth is a sexy boy scout??  I’m scared.  I also don’t like the medical and other uniformed professions you make sexy for Halloween.  I don’t agree, and frankly, I’m frightened.

There’s also the teenage boys that dress up as murderers with bloody plastic knives and masks.  Teenage boys dressed as murders in the darkness of a Halloween night?  Is it just me being old, or do these kids seem totally out of control?  They seem waaaay too old to be dressing up and run the neighborhood with a pillow case scooping up candy from everyone they can.  Not ok.  Just not ok.

Wow!   Halloween makes me sound like a grumpy old lady.

To celebrate my inner old lady and to embrace any hidden desires to be a hussy for Halloween, I’m going to be Blanche from the Golden Girls.  It’s going to be a perfectly ridiculous Halloween getup.

What are you going to be for Halloween?

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Vote.

Vote for whomever you like.

Just vote. It’s important.

Please and Thank You.

Sugar Cookie Recipe and an ooooold school Joy the Baker post right over here.

Happy isn’t hard for me.  I might even take happy for granted.  I wake up in the morning and I’m genuinely stoked about the possibilities the day brings.  I have thoughts that make me smile when I’m sitting alone in my car.  I like rainbows and kittens, well… you get my point.

Today I shared a meal with a dear friend who isn’t so blessed in the happy department.  She’s been struggling in recent months.  She’s lost her happy.  After dinner, as we sat lingering in conversation, she told me that she couldn’t think of one thing that made her happy anymore.  I was totally floored.  I didn’t know what to say to her.  In vain I tried to name things and places that I knew she liked.  None of it worked, she just shook her head no.  It breaks my heart, but I know that I could recall fun things we’d done together until I was blue in the face.  Her happiness needs to come from the inside.

It got me thinking about happy.

What makes you happy?  What thoughts make you smile when no one else is around?  What makes you happy to get out of bed in the morning?  Share.  I want to know.

On my list of the many things things that make me happy:  Crispy Toasted Coconut Cookies.

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I’ve decided to have a very quiet and still weekend.

Today- more pictures than words.

I hope you all find a piece of peace this weekend.

These unassuming, simple and delicious meringues might be just your ticket to bliss.

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It’s about time that I introduce you to some of my friends.

Meet Jill. Jill is one fierce cookie, although me might try to fool you with her demure presence and coy smile.  Do not be fooled.  She’s a firecracker and she’s got your number.

I ventured into Jill’s kitchen one Sunday afternoon to make her famous vegan cookies.  I’m not a big vegan cookie baker, and I thought I reach out to an expert.

I met Jill when I hired her at a tiny Los Angeles coffee shop I managed.  We both learned very quickly that Jill is not a morning person and Joy is.  We also learned that Jill thinks Black Widow spiders are cool and Joy runs screaming for the hills at the mere mention of one.  But Joy and Jill share a deep love for, well… occasional boy talk and fast food tacos.  Joy and Jill are great friends.

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My week- ridiculous.

My best, most darling friend has decided to move from Los Angeles to some strange state called…. Florida?  It’s wonderful for her.  I’m just heartbroken that I won’t have her around to watch me bake and drink wine and talk for hours and hours.

I can get over that heartbreak thanks to my immense amount of rollover cell phone minutes.  I’ll be fine…

BUT!  It seems like  I’ve been saying goodbye to my friend at goodbye parties all week long.  I’m not really a girl that goes to bars, but it seems like each night of the week I’ve been raising a glass to my friend.  It’s been fun.  It’s been almost too fun!  Each night is more ridiculous than the next.

If you haven’t been to a bar in a while, well, let me tell you, it’s madness.  In just one week I’ve… Well let’s just say that I’m going to church in the morning, and no, I didn’t get a tattoo… or did I?

Bon Voyage Sonia my love.

Enough of that, we have cookies to discuss.

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