To avoid any further confusion.

On Saturday night, someone complimented me on this here blog o' mine. Well, sorta. It went somewhere along the lines of "I really like your blog. I'm not really sure what it's about yet... but I really like it." (Thanks, Mom.)

I didn't think it was a big mystery. This is where I come to write about LIFE so that when I'm old and my tits are in my shoes* I'll be able to look back and remember where the hell I spent my time.

I like having a place to express myself in a way that doesn't come naturally in "real life." See, what you get here? It's the "real me." I'm just not good at sharing the "real me" around "real people." (And I feel the need to use unnecessary "quotation" marks throughout the rest of this "post.")

I'm very reserved and quiet and, to be honest, nervous (until I get to know you). I'm fairly certain I suffer from some sort of social anxiety which I should probably be seeing some sort of therapist for, but I'm happy and since it doesn't prevent me from leaving my house and doing things I love, I don't feel a need to shell out the dough I should be saving for when I get laid off (knock on wood).

And speaking of things I love? I have discovered the most incredible passion for photography and baking within the last couple of years and that's the direction this blog will take most of the time. So, if cookies and photographs (of just about anything that will hold still long enough) (and sometimes of things that won't) isn't your cup of tea? Then it may just be time to move along. Because life is too short to spend time doing reading things that you're not totally into.

And because I'm paranoid of anybody thinking so (I admit it, I care what people think)... No, I am not trying to be her or her or any of the other fantastic people that happen to be doing the same thing. I'm just doing what I want and sharing the outcome and if someone happens to get any sort of enjoyment from it, awesome. And if not? Well, there are plenty of other fish blogs in the sea WWW.

And by the way? I like to use the F word from time to time. Just thought I should throw that out there now while I'm telling the truth.

*Eight million dollars to the first person to name that television show. (But not really on the "eight million dollars" part.)

Edited to add: For those still wondering, the quote came from an episode of Sex and the City, in which Samantha declares that she's having nude photos taken of herself so that when "she's old and her tits are in her shoes," she can look at the pictures and remember how hot she was.

Oatmeal Cookies

I made these cookies a couple weeks ago. I'm not sure why I haven't shared them yet, but the pictures have been staring me in the face, waiting to see the light of day, and since I found these cookies so freaking good, I thought I better tell you about them.

These were the very first cookies I made using the new mixer. (Have a mentioned how much I love that thing?) I got the recipe from Alton's book and they are fantastic.

I know everyone has an oatmeal cookie recipe and maybe everyone but me already knows this, but the recipe called for cinnamon. I have never made oatmeal cookies with cinnamon. Now? I'm a believer.

Although, I will say this. The absolute best thing about these cookies were the bottoms.

They were golden brown and buttery and slightly crispy and each bite started with that amazing flavor before leading into the sweetness. I want to eat these cookies for breakfast. I mean, they're oatmeal. So, what's the problem? (Other than my expanding waistline?) (Which I don't want to talk about.)

On a side note, I promised myself that I will only bake once a week from now on. (Because of that thing I don't want to talk about.) This puts me in a tough spot as far as making a decision about what to bake. There are just way too many options.

Here is the complete recipe. Also, since I've become a firm believer in Alton's baking methods, I'm sharing the following YouTube clips with you. These two clips make up an entire Good Eats episode in which Alton explains his "creaming method." He uses this method while making nearly all his cookies and now I do the same, even if some recipes suggest otherwise.

Eventually, I want to try all three and hold a taste test. Any volunteers?

The Fog

I had to work at six a.m. this morning, which makes me want to cry even though it's over and done with. The thing that bothered me the most was missing out on The Snooze. I am an expert snoozer and I snooze my alarm no less than eight times each morning. Don't worry, The Husband finds it infuriating charming.

But, on the rare occasion that I have to wake up at four in the stinkin' morning, I fear oversleeping so much that I jump out of bed, disoriented but awake. And even though I don't mind bothering The Husband with my snooze-fest each morning at a normal time, there's something about four in the morning that makes the repeated snoozing seem almost... I don't know... cruel?

Snoozing is a vicious cycle. I usually wake up fairly well to my alarm, but just sleepy enough to give in to the "ten more minutes." Except, then the alarm sounds for a second time, and now I feel almost painfully tired and am forced to snooze again. This continues until I have ten minutes to get ready for work and rush out the door.

I should really let me boss read this so he'd finally understand why I'm late Every. Single. Day.

Not really, but... close.

So, there I was. At work. At six in the morning. Desperately sucking down a Grande Skinny Caramel Latte from Starbucks and Thank God for the Starbucks inside our hotel.

It was a beautiful morning, both inside and out. Most people seemed to sleep in late, which left us blessedly free to get other important things done (like gossip) and outside the morning was looking crisp and clear.

Then the random fog rolled in. At nine a.m. It seemed to completely strangle embrace Anaheim. This is odd for us. Normally, we wake up to fog and it burns off late in the morning. It didn't stick around for long, but seemed to hover just at the edges all day.

This is probably what affected our guests. Because, along with the fog, in came The Crazies. Those guests you can't help but stare at and wonder if this is the first time they've ever stepped foot outside their front door because surely they would've learned how to communicate with people if they'd done so before.

By the way? This post has no meaning whatsoever. Just thought I should clear that up.

Finally, I was on my way home. The sun was making it's descent behind the huge, thick wall of marine layer, which sometimes becomes so huge and dark and ominous that it looks like it's taking over the city. I inevitably start thinking of this really awful movie that The Husband had flipped on one night, aptly titled The Fog.

It was about (wait for it) fog. And how the fog was trying to kill everyone. Or there were ghosts living in the fog trying to kill everybody? Whatever. The Fog was awful.

But, even though I remember it's awfulness, I also remember that it scared me just a little bit.

Because I am a scairdy cat. And this morning? I hated walking out to my car alone. At five-thirty in the morning. In the dark. And cold.

I am also terrified of bugs and scared of earthquakes. Tonight we had an earthquake (albeit a small one) and then a bug fell down The Husband's shirt sleeve as he was trying to save me from it and remove it from the ceiling above our bed.

The end.

Canned Peanut Butter Candy Cookies

Something has got to give. I can't go on making all these cookies! Because who eats them all? I do. The Husband will only consume so many and that's only if they have chocolate and/or peanut butter in them. He is not a fan of fruit or vegetables. Not that any of my cookies have vegetables in them, but you never know. If my pants keep getting tighter, I might just have to come up with some sort of cookie made entirely of cauliflower. Just like my mashed potatoes. That's right. My "faux" mashed potatoes are made of cauliflower. And you know what? They're delicious.

I think the extra weight is making me cranky.

I have no idea why these are called Canned Peanut Butter Candy Cookies, except that maybe you're supposed to store them in cute little cans or something, but who do you think this is? Certainly not someone who keeps cookies around long enough to store them in cutesy containers. Although I do have a thing for cookie jars. They all inevitably turn into dust collectors. But they're stinkin' cute.

If you like Reese's peanut butter cups, peanut butter all by itself, chocolate (who doesn't???), or cookies in general, these are for you. Just don't do what I did to the first batch and overcook them. Because they go from moist and delicious to damn I need a dentist and delicious in no time. Watch them and take them out before you think they're done. I'm trying to get better at following this same advice.

Ingredients
¾ cup chunky peanut butter (I used smooth)
½ cup butter, softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 egg
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla
1 ¼ cups AP flour
2 cups miniature peanut butter cups, quartered
1/3 cup milk chocolate chips (for drizzle)

Directions
Cream together butter, peanut butter, and brown sugar.

Add egg and mix until well blended. Mix in vanilla.

Sift together flour, baking powder and baking soda. Beat into butter mixture on low speed until just mixed.

Stir in peanut butter cups. (Try not to eat them all beforehand.)

Cover and chill for 1 hour or until firm.

Now, I will share these very specific instructions and then I will tell you I didn't follow them at all.

Preheat oven to 375. For test cookie, measure inside diameter of container. Form 1/3 cup dough into 1/4-inch-thick disc, about 2 inches in diameter less than the diameter of container. (HUH?) (One-third cup dough patted into 4-inch disc yields 5-inch cookie. Measure amount of dough used and diameter of cookie before and after baking. Make adjustments before making remaining cookies.) Place dough on ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove to wire racks and cool completely.

Now, I don't know about you, but that made little sense to me. And, according to the recipe, this makes nine 5-inch cookies. I wanted to make more than that, so I made them smaller. This definitely affected my baking time and is directly responsible for overcooking the first few.

Basically, you want to make sure all your cookies are the same size, but that's true of any cookie. As long as they're all the same size, they'll all cook in the same amount of time. Just know that if you make them smaller or larger, your baking time will vary. So, the whole "test cookie" idea might not be a bad one.

Your call.

For the icing, just melt the chocolate chips and drizzle over the cookies. You can do so in a microwaveable plastic bag, snip the end off and pipe away. Or you can melt them in a cup and use a spoon or fork like I did. It's much easier to eat the leftover chocolate if you do it my way. It's hard to lick all the chocolate out of the plastic bag without making a mess. Trust me.


I still have some of the dough in my freezer, along with dough from the other three types of cookies I've made in the last week. It's a problem I tell you.

Now, go forth and make these cookies. They're delicious. And the cookie dough? Holy crap.

I'm sorry there aren't more photos but I was really disappointed with the way these ones turned out. The photos, not the cookies. The cookies were delicious.

Oh, I already said that, didn't I?


(Edited to add: Here's the complete straight-out-of-the-book recipe.)

My life is full of randomness and so my blog should be. Or something.

For those of you unfamiliar, that's my sister, J. She's a turkey. I'm sure she'll hate me for eight years (or until she wants me to take her driving again) when she realizes I posted that photo of her, but I don't care. I like it. She's not posing, she's not acting coy. Maybe 'cause she didn't realize I was going to snap another photo. She's just herself. A turkey.

And yes, I let my sister drive my car. Far, far away from people, children, animals, and police officers. She's fourteen and it keeps me in her good graces. That's right, I said it. I'm not afraid to admit I buy my sister's love.

These are our "kids." Luke, on the left, drinks toilet water. And he's the cutest cat to ever walk the earth. You can take my word on that. Now, there's quite a debate going on in our house. See, we came by our two kids sort of by accident. Well, Luke was by choice (I wanted a kitten), but Mercedes we took in when her owners were relocated to Hawaii (what a bummer). She was just over a year old. The Husband says they've come to think of each other as brother and sister. I say they're in love. I want everyone to be in love.

But then, I'm a hopelessly retarded romantic. What do you think?

J and I made these cookies over the weekend. The Husband, not a fan of the Double Lemon Delights (which is fine, 'cause more for me), insisted that I make something with chocolate and peanut butter (his favorite sweet combo). So, I did. And he ate twenty-three of them in one sitting. And then showed off his food baby. And I really hate it when people use the phrase "food baby." And.

I will share this recipe as soon as I can. Because it's delicious and you shouldn't deprive yourself.

Thank you. The end.

Double Lemon Delights

I know, I know. I said I wanted to get more adventurous with my cookies and try recipes that normally I'd shy away from. I know!

But I couldn't help myself. I kept coming back to this recipe and, finally, I just had to try them.

I love lemon.

And these cookies were amazing on their own. Soft, sweet, just slightly tart. These are the kind of cookie that you could easily eat a dozen of and not realize it.

Trust me. I know.

But isn't everything better drizzled with icing? And this was lemon icing. (Sigh.) I may have added a bit too much lemon juice, but, again, I love lemon.

I have a serious problem with lemon-flavored pastries. I'm addicted. I love lemon in my scones, my cookies, my cakes, etc. (But lemon-flavored Skittles and Starbursts I could go without.)

The Recipe.

Sift together:
2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
Set aside.

Cream together:
1 cup softened butter
3/4 cup sugar

Add:
1 egg
1 tablespoon lemon peel
1 teaspoon vanilla

Then beat in flour mixture on low speed until blended.

The book says to drop by 1/4 cupfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet and bake for 12-14 minutes until edges are golden brown. However, I did about half that size and baked for, well, half that time. Cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then move to wire racks and cool completely.

For the icing, mix together:
1 cup powdered sugar
4-5 teaspoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon lemon peel

Drizzle over cookies and allow icing to set.

Then eat a dozen. It's okay! They have fruit in them. Which makes them healthy, right?


(Edited to add: Here's the complete straight-out-of-the-book recipe.)

Internet, I'm overwhelmed today.

So, I decided to take a break, let the paperwork continue to pile up (it will regardless), and visit you!

Did you know today is the last day of the fiscal year? And did you know that I have no stinkin' idea what "fiscal year" means? I'm sure someone explained it to me once, possibly twice, but since it's not relevant to chocolate, cookies, photography, etc... well, I just don't care. All I know is I have to have all these invoices paid by the end of the day or it's my ass. Or something like that.

Below is a photo I took several days ago. I had to act fast before I lost my chance. Unfortunately, it doesn't matter how fast you grab your camera. If you use the wrong settings, you'll still miss your chance. And that's what happened here.

Personally, I look at this and think how can anyone not know what's going on in this picture??? Yes, it's terribly blurry because I had my camera set on a fifteen second shutter speed, but seriously, it's not that difficult. Is it?

Then I showed it to my sister and she looked very puzzled and made me explain it to her.

So, Internet, can you see what's going on in this photo?

The first person to call it correctly gets one billion dollars hugs and kisses from yours truly! Or, at the very least, I suppose we can bump knuckles. Whichever. I have plenty of hand sanitizer!

Since all the cool people are talking about it...

Good morning, Internet! And how was your New Year's Eve?

Did you go out and get down with your bad self? Did you drink? Did you eat? Were you merry? (Or can you only say that at Christmas?) Were you like one of the hundreds of thousands of INSANE people that went to Disneyland?

Let me say this about Disneyland on New Year's Eve. Psychotic. I've never done it myself (although one year The Husband and I went on Christmas Eve and It. Was. Nuts.) but the hotel I work in? (In which I work? Whatever.) It's a stone's throw away from the Happiest Place on Earth.

Each year, during the holidays, we are inundated with families who have decided that Disneyland is the place to be, not realizing that thousands- no, hundreds of thousands of other equally psychotic families have also decided the same.

I feel bad for the families who don't know. The families who think the parks will be quiet because it's a holiday.

Disneyland's busiest days of the year are Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. They sell out and have to turn people away. It's, for lack of a better word, crazy.

And, yes, I realize I've gotten completely off topic here, but I just had to get that off my chest.

So, what'd ya do to celebrate? Did you even make it up to midnight?

I did. Sorta. I fell asleep on the couch while The Husband flipped back and forth between Dick Clark and Tru TV's Speeders (not my first choice).

He woke me up after the ball dropped and steered me towards bed. Although, he did get a kiss at midnight. Okay, it was more like a kiss at twelve ten, but who's counting?

I've never been big on New Year's. Maybe 'cause I've never been big on people in general and it doesn't matter where you go on New Year's Eve, it's guaranteed to be busting at the seams.

We woke up on the first day of the new year to a cold, foggy morning. It's been like this for a couple of days now so I dragged The Husband out of the comfort of our warm bed and we trekked out to snap a couple photos. Of course, by the time we were actually ready and left the apartment, most of the fog was starting to burn away.

Still, it was so peaceful outside. There were very few people out and about, which I love. I wish I were an early riser. I'd get out of bed before everyone else each morning just to enjoy the calm and quiet. It's so refreshing.

Unfortunately, I find it physically painful to get out of bed when my alarm goes off and snooze eight times each day.

I hope you all have a really wonderful 2009.