high-bar baking

It made me feel like a minor celebrity. 

Ok, first is made me very confused. But after that! Celebrity status here I come. 

I asked my little sister what she wanted me to bake when I came home for a little summer vacation. “Those un-chocolate chip cookies,” she requested. Cool. I got this.

Wait a minute… when did you have those? I ran through my mental list of what I’d made when she and the rents visited for the Fourth. No, those were the oatmeal peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, because there was a semi-contentious bet that I had to settle about whether I’d put the cinnamon in them (sorry, Mom!). So when had she had the un-chocolate chippers? 

I felt like a crazy person, but I had to ask. “Oh, I just saw them on your blog and they looked great. I’ve always told people, the worst part of a chocolate chip cookie is the chips!” First of all, mini-me being mini-me, wow. 

Second of all, aw! Through a very contrived internet medium, I’m able to reach someone who shares more than 50% of her DNA with me and who I could call anytime I want and have an actual conversation with. What progress I have made! Kidding, of course. 

It gets better, actually. You’ll notice that the un-chocolate chippers were a couple posts ago, and that these are actually Sarah’s original recipe, the Chocolate Chip Cookie 2.0. After I made the un-CCCs, I whipped up a batch of the OG 2.0s for movie night, just because. Those were even more well received. Even by the initial requester. 

It’s nice to make people happy with baked goods. It can be hard to remember sometimes, baking alone in my apartment. Dropping cookies off in the break room at work and getting a smattering of compliments spread over the afternoon, out of context. There’s something very human about the directness. 

And warm chocolate chip cookies are pretty dang hard to beat. 

With real chocolate, of course. No chips. Never chips.