Over the past several months and a run of baking successes, I began to think of myself as a Master of the Oven. I indulged in prideful fantasies. I had The Knowledge. I had The Touch. I lived in a world beyond cookbooks.
Of course, only a novice cook thinks this way, and I was -- I am -- a novice. Experience in the kitchen teaches humility, and I had a lesson in that subject this evening. Witness the evidence above -- where I over-reached and, well, failed.
But ... it's a lesson, reminding me that someone once said, "Swallow your pride occasionally, it's non-fattening." Unlike my cookie.
Back to the cookbook.
I have more to write about cookies and baking and what I've learned about baking, about following directions, about adapting and creating, about the gifts of giving, and about the shuttle Challenger. But not tonight.
4 comments:
I tasted the cookies. In fact, I ate the one with the hole in the middle--your poster boy for cookie failure. I have another perspective. It tasted great. So, just how do we measure failure?
A cookie that collapses on the rack, leaving gaping holes in the cookie and cookie stuff on the counter, is a failed cookie -- even if it tastes great.
However, after sleeping on it, and after tasting one (well, two, actually) this morning, I find that while they didn't meet my expectations for appearance, the experience of eating them is pleasing. They are thin, and chewy, flavorful in subtle ways.
Beyond the aspects of failure, many successes are to be found here. Another day, another lesson, this one taught by cookies.
mmm. these sound like they would be good crumbled up over ice cream...
dounut cookie!!!! Yummmmmmmyyyyy
peace out
Carly
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