Some things you just do not mess with

You may think this is an Oh, Bev post. You know, based on the vaguely confrtontational title. But you'd be wrong.

This is about Rob baking. And following (more or less) a recipe. Because some things are sacred. Not in the "Hey it's a cathedral/mosque/synagogue/other place of worship and we should maybe respect that faith's religious beliefs while inside" sort of way. No, the flippant sort of sacred that I tend to use a lot more.

I am talking, of course, about Toll House cookies.

For those of you unfamiliar with this recipe, I'm sorry for your wasted childhood/allergy to one of the included ingredients. I've been eating these since I was a wee lad and making them since I was a slightly less wee lad. I almost considered doing something different with it this time (adding ingredients, things like that), but I wisely changed my mind and just followed the damned recipe (with obligatory adjustments, mainly involving vanilla and salt). So, for your viewing pleasure, here we go.

THE SACRAMENTS

So, here's what I used for this round of cookies. You can see the stuff wherever I put the pictures this time.

250 g butter, softened
310 g flour
1 tsp and change salt
1 tsp baking soda
150 g white sugar
~165 g brown sugar
Vanilla (Lots)
2 eggs
400 g dark chocolate (70%)

Don't add tomatoes. That's just a bad idea.

Yeah, they don't exactly sell semi-sweet chocolate chips out here, so I went with a few bars of dark chocolate. Between chopping and tasting, I'd say 380-390 g of the stuff actually made it into the dough. I probably chopped it a bit too finely, but this is manly baking time (more on that later).









WE THREE BOWLS

First off, I cut the butter into cubey things to let it soften a bit more quickly. You know how I am with stirring in butter. Not great, that's how. Meanwhile, I combined the flour, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl (or tried- it was almost too much for the small bowl). This gave a nice little photo opportunity with the chocolate.

Say cheese! But seriously. Don't add cheese either. That's also a bad idea.

COMMUNING WITH THE DOUGH

And at this point, I started making the actual dough. I went ahead and combined the two sugars, the vanilla, and the butter, slowly adding the butter (1 cube at a time) and trying to stir it as much as possible. Around this time, Bev decided to enter. She advised that I mix the dough with my hands to get the butter in there even better/more easily, as I was using a wooden spoon. I prefer to do these things the way I've done them (since that's worked in the past and I have no reason to think they won't keep working), but she certainly didn't help her case by adding something along the lines of, "It makes it much more sensual that way."

What. No. I'm not wasting dough on my hands unless I'm trying to get it onto cookie sheets or I'm cleaning the bowl. Also, sensual is not a term I like to associate with baking. Apt though it may be, just no. She also proceeded to add something about how much fun it was to lick your fingers afterwards. No, Bev. Again, not wasting dough, and second, I don't want to hear you talking about sensual and licking, because that makes me want to throw bleach onto my brain. Whatever hallucinations the lesions that produces will be a long respite from the mental image you just had to give me there.

Let's temper that with an image of the dough, post egg.

What do you know, it did become a bit of an Oh, Bev post.













Anyway, I got the butter in pretty well (without resorting to my hands) and proceeded to add the eggs one at a time, stirring as I went. This makes the dough look kinda ooky, but that's why we don't stop here. That and it's bat country.

Then I gradually stirred in the flour mixture, which gets tough because good Lord does the dough thicken. But that's part of the greatness. One reason that I don't want to waste the dough on my hands earlier is because (despite what I literally just said) it's delicious on its own. Salmonella be damned. I've yet to have that problem, and even if I did, it'd be a small price to pay for the deliciousness of Toll House cookie dough. It's even fine without the chocolate.

So thick. So delicious. Marry me, Toll House.

After the flour went in, I added the bajeepers out of that chocolate. And lo, a terrible beauty was born.

Terribly DELICIOUS.

BAKING THE FLOCK

Before

And now's around where things supposedly get really easy. I say supposedly, because like everything that's theoretically easy (pasta, rice, etc.), I always manage to screw it up somehow. Basically, instructions are to throw the oven to 375 F/190 C/T6/460 K and bake the cookies (put in tablespoon sized globs) for 9-11 minutes or until they're cooked.

And around now, you're probably saying, "Gosh, Rob, how could someone as handsome and intelligent and incredibly modest as you screw something like that up? The instructions are incredibly clear!"

And I reply with, "Oh you. Yes, those instructions seem clear, but you really want to use a teaspoon, NOT a tablespoon, to get the right volume and spacing and such. And also, ovens lie to you. They lie something fierce."

But Toll House cookies aren't about uniformity. They're about delicious. Yes, some got a bit burny on the bottom. Yes, some are a bit bigger than others. Yes, some got a bit conjoined. But they're still phenomenal. If I could change anything in how I did this one, I'd throw in more baking soda- these came out a bit flatter than what I'm used to getting, and I think it comes from the extra sugar (the American recipe calls for 3/4 cup sugar and 3/4 cup brown sugar I believe (maybe it's 1/4 cup of both), but I clearly added more brown sugar) and the extra chocolate (336 g corresponds to the actual pack of chocolate chips you get from Nestle). But regardless of the "goût particulier" that Bev somewhat complained about from (she claims) the baking soda, they were still well received by Bev and Elmo, and the teachers at my school ate them up. I also got a comment from the directeur (read: principal) about how this sort of thing helps with the ladies.

Cue knowing nod. Not that I have any ulterior motives with this New Year's Resolution or anything.

Now if you'll pardon me, I'ma have one more before I go to sleep.