I was going to write a blog about my wet, miserable, all alone, cut-short bike ride, but who wants to read about that? Even I don’t. So we’ll move on to something nicer: Cookies.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned the cookie cookbook Colleen and Jordan gave me for Christmas. I think I have. It’s large, dense, and starts off discussing the theory of cookies and then goes into seemingly excruciating picky detail about ingredients. Nearly every recipe calls for ingredients like light corn syrup or candied ginger, things I don’t think any normal household regularly keeps on hand. It sternly instructs new bakers to follow the recipes exactly the first time, and the way it’s written you get the sense that any future deviations from the recipe would probably be ill-considered, too.

Needless to say, I was intimidated. It’s taken me three months to bravely crack it open, and then finding a simple enough recipe with standard ingredients took some doing. So far I’ve made two recipes, exactly according to the recipe, and both have turned out not just good but fabulous. The first was a peanut cookie with molasses, and they turned out wonderful — unique, delicious, and yet not overpowering.

The second recipe I just baked tonight, a simple and basic oatmeal raisin cookie. I almost always add chocolate chips to such a recipe, but mindful of the stricture against such improvisation, I stuck with the recipe as written. WOW. They’re sweet, but not overly so; hearty and tending towards the snacklike, but definitely still desert; the raisins, soaked in hot water, are soft, a nice counterpoint to the walnuts; and they’re creamy, if a cookie can be described thus.

Here’s my ideal for a cookie: Crispy with a little crunch as you bite into it, soft and gooey in the middle, but still holding together (cookies that droop or ooze when you’ve bitten them are undercooked, and although enjoyable aren’t quite perfect). These oatmeal raisin cookies may well be my current zenith in cookie-making, the epitome of the Perfect Cookie.

And I have enough to share.

PS – The time change has left me all discombobulated. We forgot about it until I woke up this morning at 6:15 and suddenly realized it was actually 7:15. It also reminded me how arbitrary time was, and made me think how funny it is that we all just agree to fabricate an hour out of nowhere every year — and it works. We say it’s 8:30 pm, and as long as we all agree, it is 8:30 pm. As I said: Funny.

Thing 1
Sun breaks yesterday.

Thing 2
I tried making the cheesy bread Ben mentioned on his blog last week.

I decided to keep the loaf sealed, rather than cutting it in quarters or half as the recipe said. You can see the result. Overall as bread it turned out well; the crispy crust, fairly light innards (although I still prefer the no-knead bread for interior lightness). As far as the cheese goes, it ended up with just a thick slab of cheese right down the middle. The recipe calls for you to flatten the dough into a rectangle, sprinkle the cheese, and then seal it up again. If I did this again, I’d probably roll the bread out a bit thinner and then do multiple rolls to get a swirl of cheese in the middle, like you do with cinnamon rolls. We enjoyed this bread with homemade tomato soup that I’ve had frozen since summer. I can hardly wait for tomato season again.

Thing 3
The first Bike Alliance teacher training is in 10 days. This morning just before I woke up, I dreamed I was back at WPI and I had overloaded my class schedule. I was overwhelmed with the number of papers I had to write. I felt panicky and unable to handle everything. Finally I gave up and started trying to decide which classes to drop so I could keep up with everything. Subconscious message, you suppose? I can tell you right now that every time I think about the first training in Mattawa — and, indeed, the next trainings in Lynden, Sedro-Wooley, and Auburn — my mouth goes dry, my stomach clenches, and a little voice inside my head starts screaming in terror. The voice keeps saying “I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready” and then follows up with “and I won’t be ready, I’m going to fail, the trainings will be a total failure and the teachers will leave not having gotten anything out of it and I’ll look incompetent and…” –and it goes on. Whenever this happens, I take a big breath, tell myself, “Calm down, it’ll be OK,” and then bury my head in the sand.

Thing 4
The sand has, lately, been The Count of Monte Cristo, which weighs in at 1,400 or so pages and is thick enough that I had to prop it on something to read it comfortably. My prior knowledge of the story came entirely from the 2002 movie of that name. Let the record show that the movie is to the book what sugar is to a cake. The movie took the first 100 pages of the book and discarded the remaining 1,300 pages.

In the book, Edmond Dantès thinks of himself as an instrument of Divine retribution against the people who wrongfully imprisoned him; it’s not just a personal vendetta, but a God-given mandate. There’s no romantic Hollywood ending where he kills the bad guy and gets Mercédès back. Instead, the Count maneuvers the four people who betrayed him into horrible deaths (or madness, in the case of one) after taking away everything they loved. Mercédès and her son (not, incidentally, secretly Edmond’s son as the movie had it) end up destitute and miserable.
After doing an unnecessarily elaborate good deed, the 40-year-old Count sails off into the sunset with a teenage slave-girl.

Most of the time the Count is a character in the story, but the reader spends more time following the lives of people the Count is ruining than the Count himself. By the end the reader feels ambivalent: Whey the slave-girl says “Oh you’re so good, you’re an angel!” I have to admit I thought, “That’s not the term I’d apply!” The plot is dense, complicated, follows the history of at least two totally incidental characters in detail unknown to today’s novelists, and leaves the reader breathing a huge sigh at the end.

Now that I’m at the end, I can’t avoid the things I’ve been avoiding: Bonney Lake bike audit report edits and figuring out the nitty-gritty details of the teaching I’m committed to. Last night Ian reminded me, “You’re doing this because you want experience teaching bike classes so you can go out on your own.” Right. That’s right, that’s why I’m doing this. …I sure hope it’s worth it.

Introduction
A cookie recipe was received and tested. The recipe as written included directions for 3 different baking temperatures and times. This study evaluated all three combinations, seeking to determine the best combination. Subjects were randomly selected and subjectively evaluated cookies, providing feedback on preference.

Methods
One batch of dough was prepared, strictly following the directions.

The dough was divided roughly into thirds. Each third was further divided into cookie-sized units using two teaspoons. Two batches of cookies were put onto black bakeware cookie sheets; the third batch was reserved, and put on a used black bakeware sheet after the first batch had been removed and the cookie sheet had cooled.

One batch was baked at 325°F for 12 minutes; the next batch at 350°F for 9 minutes; and the final batch at 375°F for 8 minutes. All cookies were immediately removed from cookie sheets and cooled completely on wire racks.

Subjects were provided with a representative cookie sample from each batch and polled on preference. This was not a blind taste-test, and subjects were aware of time/temperature combinations while consuming cookies.

Results
The first batch, baked at 325°F for 12 minutes, appeared slightly set and golden-brown all over when removed from the oven. They were soft when removed from the cookie sheet. When cooled, they appeared moderately crunchy.

The second batch, baked at 350°F for 9 minutes, appeared unset and very lightly golden around the edges when removed from the oven. They were very soft when removed from the cookie sheet. When cooled, they appeared crunchy around the edges but lightly cooked in the middle.

The third batch, baked at 375°F for 8 minutes, appeared slightly set and lightly golden all over when removed from the oven. They were very soft when removed from the cookie sheet. When cooled, they appeared crunchy around the edges and cooked through the middle.

So far, subject n = 4*. All subjects agree that cookies baked at 350°F for 9 minutes were most delicious, exhibiting desirable cookie qualities of crunchy outer edge and soft interior. Cookies baked at 325°F for 12 minutes and cookies baked at 375°F for 8 minutes were both deemed overall too crunchy. Cookies baked at 325°F for 12 minutes were considered crunchiest and least desirable, while cookies baked at 375°F for 8 minutes were considered reasonably good, but not as desirable as the cookies baked 350°F for 9 minutes.

Conclusions
Cookies in this recipe appear to bake best at 350°F for 9 minutes. Future research into lower cook times at 325°F may provide additional data points. All data are subject to suspicion due to the low n value. Additional subjects are requested for participation if available in the next 24 hours.**

* Including one self-professed “cookie snob,” who is discriminating about cookies.
** In English: This is your chance to have free cookies! Call me if you want to try the three cookies and give your input on which is best.

What would you do if you had four days off of work to spend by yourself?

Here’s what I’ve done so far.

If you’re thinking “Gosh, those look an awful lot like peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and a loaf of banana bread with no walnuts,” you’re spot-on.

I also fell asleep while reading Spin, then woke up and finished it; and I browsed Craigslist for a couch-side table to replace our cardboard box. I think this afternoon may involve slightly more productive things like raking — the big tree in the backyard has picked up on the fact that autumn has arrived — and tomorrow I have big bike-related plans, but today is my “I never changed out of my pajamas” day. I’m enjoying every minute of it.

This is going to be a boring post.

That said, here goes.

What a weekend. On Saturday morning, I made a list of everything I wanted to achieve by Sunday evening. We completed 23 of the 25 items (the algae in my shower got a reprieve, but not for long) by the time Ian’s grandparents showed up at 5:30 pm on Sunday for dinner. It was great having them over. I’m really enjoying entertaining people in our home.

Happily, I had an excuse to take Monday off (we got the new flooring installed in our downstairs bathroom and laundry room! Now we can finally get a washer and dryer!), and I spent a good portion of it reading The Passage. Although lats November I wrote my own supernatural novel, I’ve actually avoided the entire genre diligently. However, Dad and Ian both recommended The Passage, so I gave it a try — and got sucked in, so to speak. Now I have to sleep with the light on because I’m pretty sure vampires are going to come leaping through the window if the lights go out.

Anyway, aside from my newly developed case of nyctophobia, this weekend I cooked a bunch — molasses cookies, 2 loaves of bread, an amazing berry pie, some other stuff that I’ve forgotten — and cleaned a bunch. So overall it was a pretty decent weekend, and with Monday off, I did end up feeling like I’d gotten some rest. Next up: Meeting with Kenis Loven about some shelves, two late nights in the office, and working on Saturday at the finish line of RAPSody. I know I keep saying this but, I’m eagerly looking forward to next Sunday evening, when this is all over.

Yesterday I spent cooking. Actually, I started Sunday night. By yesterday evening, I had made the following foods from scratch:

• 1 batch of oatmeal raisin cookies

• 1 loaf of No-Knead rustic bread (this from 6:00 pm on Sunday to 1:40 pm on Monday, but most of it the yeast did the work, not me)
• 2 C. basil pesto (this took a long time, washing the basil, drying it with our really fun salad spinner, then separating the leaves from the stems)
• Bean soup (really yummy Mexican recipe – creamy and delicious, without a drop of cream!)
• Mexican rice (Confession: Mom came over and she’s the one who really made this)
• Honey baked chicken (Ian did the basting — my hero!)
• Fruit smoothie

I had also washed, dried, folded, and put away two loads of laundry, cleaned up the house, vacuumed, run out to the butcher for the chicken, spiffed up the downstairs bathroom, and pruned and watered the plants that I want to keep alive.

This, frankly, is a longer list of achievements than I can say I would be able to claim if I had gone to work. I took the day off because I’d worked on Saturday. Although the Saturday working didn’t thrill me, I could definitely get used to taking Mondays off. Or, really, any days. It was nice to have time to experiment with new foods; get the house into a semblance of order; and do some things that I’m just too tired to do after a workday. When I went to bed, I felt happy and satisfied with my day.

In high school, I would’ve looked down on myself for feeling satisfied with staying home and cooking. It’s entirely counter to the whole “liberated woman” view of what a successful woman’s life looks like. I always imagined I would be a scientist, making exciting new discoveries, or working as a science journalist writing up exciting new discoveries. But as I’ve grown up, my definition of success has changed pretty dramatically. I’m still figuring out what it looks like, and I suppose that as time goes by and situations change, what makes me a “success” will change, too.

And that’s OK.

Dough:
3/4 Cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
1 Cup milk
3/4 Cup plus 1 teaspoon sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
3 1/4-ounce envelopes (7 1/2 teaspoons) active dry yeast
1/2 Cup warm water (note: NOT HOT. Too hot will kill the yeast.)
5 large eggs
8 1/2 to 9 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour

Filling:
5 Cups firmly packed brown sugar
1 1/4 Cups (2 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3 tablespoons ground cinnamon

Frosting:
1/2 Pound cream cheese, softened
1/4 Cup whipping cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 to 4 Cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted (I confess: I didn’t sift it)

For the dough, heat the butter with the milk, 3/4 C. of the sugar, and the salt in a small saucepan until the butter is melted. Set aside to cool.

In a large mixing bowl, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water, add the remaining 1 teaspoon of sugar, and set aside for 10 minutes, until the mixture is bubbly.

Add the lukewarm milk mixture and the eggs into the large mixing bowl yeast-mixture. Beat until well combined.

Add the flour 1 cup at a time, stirring and using enough flour to form a stiff dough. (Note: This takes a long time. I stirred each cup in very thoroughly before adding the next one.)

Turn out the dough onto a floured board (I just scrubbed the counter top and floured it) and knead until smooth and satiny, approximately 10 minutes. (This really does take 10 minutes of constant kneading.)

Place the kneaded dough into a very large, clean, buttered bowl bowl. Roll the dough to cover it in butter. Cover it loosely with a kitchen towel and allow to rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, approximately 1 hour.

This is a good time to do the filling. For the filling, beat together the brown sugar, cinnamon, and softened butter until well combined. It should have uniform small crumbly chunks.

Butter at least two 9″x13″ glass baking dishes.

After the dough has doubled, punch the dough down to release the gases and roll the dough into a large rectangle, 24″ by 36″. Spread the filling evenly over the surface of the dough.

Roll the dough lengthwise (this may take 2 people) and cut at 2″ intervals to make 12 rolls. Place 6 rolls in each buttered dish. Cover loosely with a kitchen towel and allow to rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour. (My dough didn’t rise again, but when they baked they puffed up nicely, so don’t worry too much if they aren’t doubled after another hour.)

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Bake the rolls for 20 to 30 minutes or until puffed and brown. Cool to room temperature on cookie cooling racks.

For the frosting, beat the cream cheese, cream, and vanilla until well combined. Add the confectioners’ sugar 1 cup at a time and beat slowly until smooth and soft, not stiff. Frost the rolls and serve immediately.

Theoretically makes 12 large rolls.

—

This recipe comes from The Last Suppers, by Diane Mott Davidson, 1994, pages 86-88. I made these cinnamon rolls last Saturday and everybody who tried one agreed that they were at least as good as the ones from a store. Good thing they take about 4 or 5 hours total, because otherwise I’d make them all the time.

This Saturday — today — I took pictures of my bike, sat in the front yard reading for a while, and then I cleaned the bathroom and worked on a handbook I’m doing for church. At 11:30 Ian and I walked the dog down to Pup Scrub. While they cleaned her up we got chicken tikka masala at Royal India and ate it at the field part of Juanita Beach Park. We sat on a bench and talked the rest of the time. Then we picked up the dog, walked home, and all three of us guzzled a bunch of water. Now I have to go fix my bike’s rear shifting and Ian’s front shifting, finish the handbook, and take a nap — not necessarily in that order.