Chocolate Chip Cookies

I'm an average cook.  When I watch any kind of cooking show, I realize that I basically know nothing about really fine cooking.  I suspect this stems from the fact that I don't have a wide variety in my diet.  Things like kale, saffron and endives are not words I use regularly, or foods that I regularly eat.

I like to make comfort food.  Food that has lots of butter, salt (or sugar) and even cream (my chocolate cream puffs never last longer than a day).  Most of my meat dishes have some kind of cream base, or I just cover the meat in garlic and salt (I'm thinking of my sage-encrusted pork loin--yummy).  I love fresh fruit, but only at the peak of ripeness.

One thing that I'm pretty darn good at is baking.  I seriously believe this gift has been passed down genetically from the southern women who came before me.  The only person that I know who bakes better than me is my mother, and she has actual proof of her greatness.  Somewhere, tucked away, she has ribbons from Texas county fairs, verifying her ability to make strawberry jam and dilly bread better than anyone else, including me.  My pumpkin pies are the best pumpkin pies...except for hers.  My banana bread is to die for, all sweet and comforting...but my mother's is better.  I can remember when my grandparents would come to visit, and my granddad wanted nothing but my mother's cooking.  He especially loved her blueberry pie.  And when John and I were dating, he would come over late at night, hoping to find a pecan pie, baked by my mother.  Gingerbread cookies were a staple at Christmas, and that tradition carries on in our own family.

The best thing I bake?  Chocolate chip cookies.  Seriously.

I have been told on numerous occasions, by different people, that my chocolate chip cookies are better than any others.  The most recent compliment (aside from those who live in my house) came from Katrina, my sister-in-law.  She and the family were visiting, and I made a double batch of cookies for every one to munch on throughout the day.  Katrina is the "roll" queen--she can make melt-in-your-mouth rolls for dinner that are frequently eaten before dinner has even begun.  She has given me the recipe, and I don't even do it justice.  She has the "touch".

Back to cookies.  John was telling her that they were delicious, and after she had eaten one, she told me that indeed, they were good, and could she have the recipe?

I decided to risk family conflict, and tell her "no", she couldn't have the recipe.  Nothing against her.  I love Katrina, but I don't share my recipes, because inevitably, when I do, I show up for some potluck, or event, and someone has conjured up a copy of my food.  They get the credit for its deliciousness, and then they proceed to share the recipe with others.  I, on the other hand, like to have a few secrets tucked away that still surprise people and make them happy.  Too, there is a secret ingredient in my cookies that I didn't want revealed.

So, like I have posted, coming home from Interlochen, I was in quite a funk.  I didn't want to leave Interlochen, but by so doing, I was admitting that summer was coming to an end (which translates into losing all-day time with my kids and sleeping in and staying up late as a group--my favorite things of summer).  I didn't have a single thought to post on this blog (I apologize to my regular readers), and I felt out of touch with my kitchen, seeing as I had been eating in a cafeteria for the past six weeks.

Then, it hit.  Last night, while we were gearing up to watch Project Runway, I knew I had to do it.  I had to make chocolate chip cookies.

I was pretty sure that I had all the ingredients (although I'm still surprised at what things John ate while I was gone).  I checked the cupboard, and low and behold, I had all but one.  No chocolate chips.

This takes me to another aside.  We have a chocolate chip gremlin who breaks into any bags of chocolate chips in the house and slowly (and unnoticed by all) eats through the bag, a couple of chips at a time.  The problem becomes apparent when I go to make something with the chips and there stands the bag in the cupboard.  I assume it has the same number of chocolate chips in it as when I last used put it back in the cupboard, or even that it will be full and unopened.  I pick it up and am surprised to find perhaps five (yes, count them, five) chocolate chips in the bottom of the bag.

Such was the case last night.  I had no chocolate chips at 9:30 p.m., but I had the desire to make chocolate chip cookies.

Enter food storage (Alaska Hults will appreciate this).  After a holiday be it Easter, Christmas or Halloween, I head to the stores to get candy at 50% off the shelf price (sometimes more if I can wait long enough).  I buy bags and bags and bags of candy, most of which disappears within a week or two in our home.  As chance would have it, I had one bag of Easter M&M's in my pantry which had escaped the candy-hungry eyes of my children and husband.  And the angels sing...


I don't usually like M&M cookies because the cookies are way overcooked, the M&Ms are hard, and I prefer my cookies on the soft side.  However, the dough would be the same, so it should work.  As I think about it now, it makes sense.  Because my dough is a bit undercooked, the M&Ms stayed all big and chocolately.

Yeah it should have been obvious.  My chocolate chip cookie dough, combined with Easter candy.  How could it go wrong?

It didn't.  The cookies even looked pretty, and as of this morning, there are a handful of cookies left.  Perfection.  I'm headed to the kitchen...