So, I spent a few mostly-boring years living in Delaware. When I moved back to Maryland, my sister and I were verbally very committed to hanging out more. Except, we weren't so good at that. I was still going to college in Baltimore full time, and working a retail job-- plus, she was in school, and working as a doula. Suffice to say, we were pretty bad it. Then, we got clever (and she got into Pampered Chef) and we figured we could (surely.) get together once a month to make cookies! Nice idea. Crap execution. A year goes by, and yes, we see each other, but the cookie plan fails entirely. Christmas of 2011, she gives me a blank scrapbook that is sister/cookie-themed.
It's worth mentioning that my sister is a master scrapbooker.
Nevertheless, we failed a lot.
And then! Then I got a job at a museum and was able to scale back the retail stuff. And she got a job a teacher. So, now that we actually have time that does not involve wanting to sleep (her) or wanting to drink heavily (me), we finally got around to getting together to make cookies.
Then we watched Newsroom, because THERE IS NO MORE WEST WING.
(Newsroom helps to fill the Aaron Sorkin void.)
Onto the cookies.
Cookies: Morning Glory Cookies. I've never had them before. Actually, I'd never heard of them before, but I am a sucker for a theme, and it turns out that morning glories are one of the official September flowers. So I went with it.
Requisite Components:
Oven
Cookie sheets
Parchment paper
Recipe:
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 cups (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
1 heaping teaspoon grated orange zest
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 cup grated/shredded carrot (2-3 carrots)
3/4 cup grated/shredded apple (1 apple)
1 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup shredded, sweetened coconut
1 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
A splash of lemon juice
Ignore the part of the directions that talks about sifting out of a combination of laziness and a sense of superiority. Get your sister to mix together the flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon in a medium bowl and set aside.
Realise that should have brought your Kitchen-Aid mixer from home, and resort to making your sister use a hand mixer to beat together the butter and sugar and orange zest until smooth and well blended.
While she is doing that, grab a bowl of reasonable size. Shred the apple - it only took us one apple, and then, because it was such an awesome apple, we used all of it which wound up being more than the recipe technically demanded, but whatever - and add it to the bowl. Hastily add a splash of lemon juice because you just realised you've done this far too early and if you don't add lemon juice the apple will start to oxidize and turn brown, which is not cute. Chop the shredded carrot you bought from the prepped food area of the grocer's because you were too lazy to shred carrots yourself, and add them to the bowl with the apple. Add raisins, coconut, and walnuts. And then add a few more walnuts whilst no one's looking. Because walnuts are awesome. Mix with your hands, you filthy minx. (Take time to admire the polka dot manicure you gave yourself because you finally ordered dotting tools.)
On medium speed, add in the eggs, one at a time, scraping the sides of the bowl as needed, and the vanilla extract.
Add the delicious fruit/veggie/nut/what category does coconut fall into? mixture to the butter-sugar-egg-vanilla mixture.
Listen to your mother when she points out that you've forgotten to preheat the oven. And then preheat the oven to 350, for those of us in the States. Because you don't have your Kitchen-Aid mixer with you, mix in the dry ingredients by hand.
Get tired of that, and then cajole your sister into doing it. This can easily be accomplished by offering to add the dry mixture, 1/2 cup at a time until incorporated, to the bowl she's now mixing for you.
Using whatever scooping mechanism you have available, dole out cookie-sized portions onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Get into an argument over whose cookies will be superior; assume yours will be. Place your cookie sheet on the lower rack, after graciously offering your sister the upper rack. Because you're classy like that.
Bake for 15 minutes. Notice that the directions say 20 minutes, and stick them back in for another 5 minutes. Inspect your cookie sheet.
Inspect your sister's.
Claim victory.
Put them on a wire rack and try to wait until they're cool enough to eat.