Mishap #1: For our office Secret Santa, participants were supposed to make or bake something for our Secret Santa rather than spending a lot of money on buying a gift. For this reason, we each filled out a questionnaire listing a few of our favorite things (now you're singing the song, aren't you?). My Secret Santa (I'm not sure that both parties are called Secret Santas, but I have no idea what the recipient would be called [other than a recipient], so just go with it) indicated that she liked raspberries. I can't craft to save my life, so I immediately thought of baking her something. And I knew just the thing: raspberry thumbprint cookies.
I had never made them before, but I found a recipe on Pinterest (where else?) and set about making them a couple nights before we were to reveal our made and baked gifts. The cookies aren't hard to make, but the dough does have to chill for an hour before the cookies can be baked.
Luckily I had another batch of cookies to make (for another office holiday party) and my friend Shawna to keep me company while I not so patiently waited for the dough to chill. Fast forward an hour and some-odd minutes, and all the cookies were baked and cooling on the counter. I had separated the SS cookies from the ones I would keep and stupidly left the SS cookies closest to the front. [note: I separated the cookies because many (way too many) of them didn't really look so good.] Shawna and I realized we needed something for a Christmas gift we were making and ran to Walmart.
Upon our return, Shawna immediately noticed that some of the SS cookies were gone. Deuce was sitting innocently on the chair, looking rather satisfied. After a thorough examination of the remaining cookies, I deduced that Deuce had eaten a dozen raspberry thumbprint cookies. I promptly sent him to my bedroom to think about what he had done and then realized that I would have to whip up another batch. Needless to say, I was quite unhappy with Deuce Wayne. (Yes, he has a middle name; it comes in handy for times such as this, when he's being a brat.) In the end, it worked out for me because the cookies were absolutely delicious and I ended up having many cookies all to myself, once I finally got the proper amount of decent-looking cookies for my SS.
Mishap #2: My dear friends Shawna and Laura bought me a mini-pie maker for Christmas, one that I had been eying for months. I finally got the chance to try that bad boy out a few days ago and was so excited that my mini apple pies came out looking exactly like the ones on the box. That never happens to me, so I was expecting a pie fairy to swoop in and give me an award or make me Pie Queen for a day. Sadly, that never happened.
But back to the pie-making process. I actually remembered to take pictures as I went because I planned on blogging about my wonderful Christmas gift that keeps on giving. I got a picture of the four dainty circles of pie dough just waiting to be put in to the pie maker. I got one of the scrumptious apple pie filling. I did not get one of the filled pies waiting for their top crust because by that point the pie maker was already baking the bottom crust. I didn't figure I had time for one more photo and just thought I'd wait until the (hopefully) gorgeous pies were finished baking. [note: I did not include the pictures I did manage to get because this post is already getting long enough.]
About ten minutes later, I removed said pies and set them on a baking rack to cool. They were golden brown and flaky, and it was all I could do not to tear into one right then and there. But I was taking them to Laura's and wanted her and Shawna to see the fruits of my labor. Once the pies had cooled, I put them on a plate (yet again on the counter) and went to my room to change and get ready. Big mistake. I realized too late that Deuce was not curled up on the bathroom rug, under my feet, and ran to the kitchen, only to be met by the sight of him with his front paws on the counter, licking his chops.
But what was even worse was the sight of the lone half a pie that remained on the plate. Telltale crumbs were also scattered all over the couch. So apparently he had time to steal one mini pie at a time, take it to my couch, and enjoy it there before going back for another...and another...and half another. He was punished yet again, and I made a mental note to remove all foodstuffs from the counter when he is unsupervised. That darn dog!
Mishap #3: Sunday night I was in the mood to bake. And I knew just what I wanted to bake: brown sugar cookies. Before you ask, yes, I got the recipe from Pinterest. Ever since I pinned this recipe a couple months ago, I have wanted to make them. So Sunday night I just went for it. I even made an extra trip to the store because I didn't have enough butter. When I got back home, I got out all my ingredients, mouth already watering. The recipe started out easy enough: cream together the butter and brown sugar. Then I added eggs, vanilla, and the dry ingredients. I then got my first indication that something wasn't quite right. The recipe said it made two dozen cookies. There was a LOT of dough in my mixing bowl. But I thought, What the hey, and just continued on.
My second indication of just-not-rightness was when I realized how soft the dough was. It was not firm at all and just sort of spread when I dolloped the cookies onto the baking sheet. Once again, though, I just decided to go with the flow. Five dozen cookies later, I knew something was wrong. The cookies looked nothing like the picture.
At that point I figured I would just see this thing through to the end, and I began making the browned butter frosting. It seemed easy enough to make: butter, powdered sugar, and milk. I think where I went wrong, though, was in the actual process of browning the butter. Looking back, I don't think mine ever browned. The recipe said to let it melt until it became a golden color. To my knowledge, melted butter always looks pretty golden, so it was difficult for me to tell when it was done. The recipe said it would happen quickly, though, so I waited just a couple minutes, and when nothing much seemed to be happening, I just took the pan off the heat and added the powdered sugar. I whisked the butter and sugar together then added the milk. Then it was time to frost the cookies.
As you may have guessed, I was only able to frost about two dozen cookies. And to be honest, the un-frosted cookies taste better to me than the frosted ones. Probably because the frosting tasted mostly like butter. You live and you learn, I suppose. You may be wondering where the "doggy don't" comes in to play in this story. Alas, Deuce did not get ahold of these cookies. I kind of wish he had, though.
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