high-bar baking

I disagree, in principle, with the existence of this class of cookies. Such that I will be rechristening it to align with my values. 

I don’t believe in a thin and crispy cookie. I only made this one and its (inferior) mate out of a sense of completeness, working through Sarah’s 100 Cookies. Ok, a sense of completeness and a totally self-righteous desire to be morally superior. 

Then I had a bite. And another. 

This cookie, Sarah’s Thin and Crispy Double Chocolate Chip Cookie, manages to perfectly mimic the taste and texture of that bagged Costco snack food called Brownie Brittle. Which is what I’m now calling the recipe. It shatters when you bite into it; crumbs go flying everywhere. It’s flatter than a boxed-mix pancake and wonderfully aerated with hundreds of itty-bitty bubble holes, frozen in time as the cookies harden after baking. 

I will say, they take forever to make. It was five or six trays, and they bake for 16-18 minutes, which is a lifetime in the cookie world, if you’re not familiar. So just don’t go thinking you’re getting out of this one easily. 

But they make me happy. And I figured they would ship well, because, well, they’re already dry and crunchy. What more could a mail delay do to them? 

I made them to celebrate a bestie’s birthday, one more year of being friends. One more year of being in the big bad world and not succumbing to the temptation to let people drift. She applied to residency tonight, so let’s all say a prayer to the capricious med school gods as they load up their absolutely random die and begin another selection process. 

Maybe offer them some cookies as a sacrifice.