Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Labor of love


I hate making cookies. I am not much of a baker to begin with, and of all the types of baking, cookie making is my least favorite. With a cake you just mix up the batter and dump in the pan. But with cookies, you have to make the dough, spoon them onto a sheet, bake them, then take them off to cool. I know, I know--it's not that hard. But it's hard enough that I make them only once a year, for Neil's birthday.

I regularly make all kinds of things from scratch and cook dinner most every night, so it is not as though I avoid time in the kitchen. But for some reason, I have a mental block about cookies. Case in point: for his birthday dinner I made a butternut squash galette, which took longer and was more involved than a batch of chocolate chip cookies, but it was the latter I dreaded making.

I almost skipped it this year since Neil's mother is coming into town a few days after his birthday and I am fairly confident that she'll bring cookies. Not only that, she is a cookie making expert. My cookies never turn out as well as hers, so I figure, why bother? He'll get a treat and I will be off the hook.

But it is his birthday, and he does love cookies, so I managed to stop my whining and made him a batch. They're a little thick and floury and a few got overdone on the bottom, but they are still cookies.

Happy birthday, Neil. For you (and only you), I will make cookies.

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