There lingers a hint of my folly. It’s there with every swing of our front door. A whiff greeting on its hurried way out towards spring winds.
It’s a bit brown sugar. Walnuts. Much chocolate. All burnt.
Almost a week has passed since the first go I had at these cookies yielded two sheets of blackened pucks and suddenly antiqued parchment paper. After two fans, an open door, a pushed wide window, and a few curses at our oven running high, the smoke cleared. The scent sticks around though, reminding me of that fateful batch each time I enter our home, just before my nostrils adjust to its aroma once again, tossing it from recognition until the next entrance.
I admit that these cookies are so worth the effort. Well, if you have a food processor and an unfinicky oven, your go shall be much less trying than my own. Trust me.
Lacking a food processor, I attempted to wrestle my blender to the task of grinding down the chocolate chips and nuts. After two rounds of each, I learned that chocolate bands together in a dense mass collected at the bottom of the blender, requiring complete disassemblement to rescue each crumb. All else is simple though.
They bake til moody brown. Crisp as wafers. Thin and round and large enough that a breaking in half for milk dunking is most necessary. Just one may soothe the sweet tooth, but two is so much better.
I spied the recipe for “Flat and Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies“ in an issue of Saveur. I once again have collected together issues old and new of my favorite culinary mags for research and inspiration for my photography class — an acceptable excuse for me to spend time with the reads when normally I’d be waiting for the appropriate moment of leisure. Now, the task is work-worthy, no?