21 December 2019 Baking Saturday No. 2

[KathyB]

Today was the day I made the Cranberry white and dark chocolate chip cookies for the cookie exchange party. Mine was the only cookie there without nuts (I personally am not a fan of nuts in cookies), so it was either a refreshing change, or somebody who couldn't get with the program. I picked up a few recipes that looked like I could make them without a mixer, and I might make them leaving out the nuts. Or (more likely) I've got all the baking out of my system, and I intend to store the flour and sugar in the freezer until the next time I need them.

The cranberry cookies were not quite as easy to make as the chocolate chip cookies I made last week, largely because creaming unmelted butter with sugar is difficult without a mixer. The melted butter in the Easiest Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe was much easier to work with, and that dough didn't need to be refrigerated before baking.

[scenicdesign71]

I seem to remember my mom creaming unmelted butter and sugar with a pastry cutter, as she did with flour and shortening; granted, not as easy as a mixer.

But while I'm a fan of nuts in cookies myself, I admire your refusal to "get with the program".  (Given the ubiquitous concerns about nut allergies these days, I'm actually kinda surprised that your nut-free cookies were the sole outlier, rather than the other way around, but then what do I know about cookie exchange parties?  They sound like an excellent idea, but I've never been to one).

I've been mood-swingy this week (leaning more toward depression) -- hence, maybe, the virulence of my ramblings about Cats? -- because last Sunday a romantic possibility that had just recently been getting off the ground after two years of slow-burn mutual curiosity and attraction... abruptly evaporated.

My life has been pretty good over the past few years, on the work front at least, decidedly better than my previous norm.  So my feelings for this guy may have been overly optimistic despite my cautiousness about expressing them.  We both have roommates and busy schedules, so I suppose an actual romantic relationship would've become challenging soon enough.  Woulda, coulda, shoulda, now I guess we'll never know.  But the attraction was real, and we seemed unusually (in my experience) compatible, and DAMN this hurts like a motherf***er.

Happy holidays.    [/vent]

[DiveMilw]

Kathy, I too am surprised yours were the only cookies without nuts.  Maybe cookies with nuts are more of a holiday or "special occasion" type of cookie and that is why there were so many.  Your cranberry and chocolate cookies sound like a cookies I'd very much enjoy eating.

David - Sorry to hear about the demise of your romantic prospect.  I know you had been looking forward to your time off and the possibility of spending more time together.

[scenicdesign71]

Thanks, Tom.  It came as a totally unexpected shock, and I've been really heartbroken ever since it happened (just over a week ago, but it feels like longer).

I won't go into the details, but for various reasons I've been unsure whether heartbrokenness is actually the inevitable reaction here, or whether that's partly, or even largely, just a familiar pattern to which I'm defaulting.  It may be a stage I need to go through.  But it sure does suck.

It turns out there's real therapeutic value in sappy stories, though.  Yesterday I gave in to curiosity about this new Dolly Parton anthology series, Heartstrings, and watched the first two episodes on Netflix.  They were highly soothing.  And Melissa Leo has an absolute ball chewing up her plum role in "Two Doors Down," which, of the two episodes, was just about ideal for my purposes even though (or maybe because?) the script cleverly repurposes the song's emotional gist in such a way that there's no direct correlation with my situation at all: 

Spoiler: ShowHide

the gay-romance plot strand (and, for that matter, the straight romance too, as far as it goes) includes zero heartbreak, while the lyric's deliciously upbeat rendering of stubbornly inconsolable self-pity gets shifted to Ms. Leo's character -- a monstrous mother-of-the-bride, horrified when her son half-stumbles out of the closet -- who, in keeping with the spirit if not the letter of the title song's second-verse twist, gets to pivot to joyous, Scrooge-like redemption at the end.  Much to my surprise, it actually gave me some respect for the pleasures of Hallmark-type drama.

And speaking of seeing things, I think I might take myself to finally see Cats today, or tonight.  It's been a busy month of seeing stuff:  in the second week of December I saw four shows (or cine-casts of shows):  Present Laughter and A Winter's Tale (both NTLive); London Assurance (at Irish Rep, uninspired but workmanlike) and Fires In The Mirror (so brilliant I immediately got tickets to see it again).  And then last Wednesday I went to three things in a single day: the Harold Prince exhibit at Lincoln Center (which included the original Aronson models for Company, Follies and Pacific Overtures -- revelatory in person, after having only seen photos of them until now); Seared in its final week at MCC (delightful, with the added pick-me-up of seeing Raúl afterward to offer my congrats); and Come From Away, which exceeded expectations and gave me a good cry.  Then yesterday I went back to Fires In The Mirror for its final performance (equally brilliant the second time).