Today was not a particularly great day for me in the kitchen. We were out for the morning and as we got home around lunch, I realized I needed to bake. Bake something, anything, just to move and create. Time for cookies, Nanaimo bars and jello!
Just so you know, I am considered the baker of the family. I make all types of cookies, Nanaimo bars, quick squares that are like s’mores and cheesecakes of all sorts. For those that know me, no comments or you’ll never see another cookie from this house. But enough of the digressing, it’s time for digesting!
So it was with great fervour I began assembling all the ingredients to prepare the tried and true family recipe for chocolate chip cookies. My first clue this may have not been the day to bake was when I grabbed for the butter and had it leave my hand at escape velocity and land on the other side of the kitchen.
Undeterred, I quickly scooped up the required cup of butter from the corner and put it in the mixing bowl with the sugars. My trusty dog took care of the rest. Once the butter was creamed nicely, it was time to add the vanilla and eggs. Remember the flying butter? Now I know why chefs and bakers have aprons and towels to wipe their hands often. As I cracked the first egg, half the shell squirted out of my fingers and into the mixing bowl. Having the mixer running at a good clip saw the eggshell quickly being mixed into the batter. Using the same words that TV chefs use when berating their underlings, I tried to turn off the mixer. You’d think they should make those mixers with a dial that works with slippery fingers, but no, no, they don’t. Three swipes and a yell of help to my darling wife and I finally got the mixer turned off.
Do you know how long it takes to get all the eggshells out of a mix of egg, butter and sugar? Come on over and I’ll be happy to show you. I’m a big believer of hands-on experience. That was a good time to find an apron in the pantry and make sure I had a towel in the pocket.
Looking very chef-like, all went well until the end when I was mixing in the chocolate chips. We have these wonderful heavy duty spatulas that have lasted forever, until today. As I was folding the dough over the chips, the head of the spatula snapped off. Perfect timing for my wife to come into the kitchen again. She gently brought to my attention our raft of wooden spoons. She showed me how strong they were for mixing dough by testing a spoon on my head once or twice. She was right – if it didn’t break on my skull, it would certainly fold in chips into dough.
Just as an aside, on kitchen lino, butter or flour should be cleaned up as soon as possible. Remarkably, they both have the same effect - it causes the floor to have the same friction coefficient as a freshly flooded ice rink.
That little factoid apart, I managed to complete the baking of the cookies with no more casualties, food or otherwise. What I couldn’t understand, though, was why my wife and kids didn’t want me to help with putting a few pictures on the wall. Something about hammers and butterfingers. Boy, you wrestle with one mixer and you’re branded for life.
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