random truths – Day 1,007 (Monday) – plans

Once I got around to the Christmas baking, a plan was made. Recipes were flagged and ingredients were gathered. Tasks were divided across a couple days. Sunday – make stuff. Monday – make more stuff. Tuesday – package the stuff made Sunday and Monday. Wednesday – bring some of the stuff to work.

Tonight, after a traffic congested drive from work, the workday ensemble was traded for the I’m not leaving the house fleece pants and top. Sunday’s dough logs were pulled from the fridge. The recipe said to cut the logs lengthwise, roll them in sugar, and then slice them. The sugar was supposed to colored yellow and orange with food coloring to mimic citrus rinds, but I neglected to get food coloring in the multiple baking ingredient shopping trips and the sugar remained white. 

The first log yielded two cookie sheets of small, sort-of citrus slice shaped cookie and they were set into the oven while the second log was halved, sugared and sliced. There were about 8 dozen slices by the time the knife was set aside.

Oops. Not quite like
the cookbook photo.

The oven temperature was reduced to account for the dark cookie sheets and as an extra precaution, the timer was set to check on them a bit early. The recipe said seven to nine minutes or until the edges are golden brown. The cookies were checked at five minutes. No edges were golden. They were given a smidge more time in the oven. 

Suddenly, a burnt aroma was detected, and the first 48 cookies were yanked. the edges were golden and the tops looked ok, but when they were loosened with the spatula, the bottom of every single cookie was black. They did not look like the picture in the cookbook, but they would be perfect substitutes for coal for all the naughty kids. 

The second two sheets went into the oven and were more carefully monitored. Basically, I crouched at the oven door, peering through the little glass window, watching the cookies. A watched pot never boils, and in this case, the watched cookies never get golden brown edges. But the bottoms were, and at least the second oven batch looked edible.

The cookies from the first two sheets were set aside but I couldn’t bear to just toss them. They became dinner. Such a time saver. Speaking of time, I wonder how long the charred flavor will last.

After the disappointment of the million burnt cookies, there was no desire to start another recipe, but enough was done on Sunday to make up for it. The crew is now on a break, currently watching White Christmas and admiring the old-timey clothing. Dang, I love men in suits. And the dresses! Swoon. It is so obvious I was born into the wrong fashion era. 

Maybe another recipe will happen tomorrow, like the saltine bark for which two boxes of crackers and two pounds of butter are standing ready. Or not. We’ll see.