I got all giddy with the season, and decided to make awesome gluten-free cookies for my work friends and my garden friends and my family near and my family far.
No, I hadn't tested the recipes. Shut up.
So far, it's gone badly, and I'm surprised.
Now I'm thinking I'll be lucky to get a tiny box of cookies to my folks in Texas, and one to C.'s most excellent brother in Seattle. And lots of ugly bits to foist off on the kids when they come up. Or maybe the dogs.
The top row is three failed attempts to cook normal (not gluten-free) shortbread cookies. I'm getting really, really pissed. I Googled the problem, and apparently it might be the fat content of the butter (Oh, Mr. Grocer, can I exchange this butter for less-fatty butter?), or the proportions in the recipe (too late to do anything about that), or rolling them out too thin (if they were thicker they could make even bigger puddles!) or the oven firing too hot. I started cooking at 325. I'm down to 200 now. They are a a tiny bit better. Feh. And I forgot they had wheat flour and ate some dough, so now I have a headache and feel like a moron. (I cook, I nibble. It's how I roll.)
That's the Martha Stewart Cookbook in the back, and the Bonnie Scottish Cookbook to the left. You guys were not helpful.
I've wasted three pounds of butter, and my kitchen (C.'s kitchen, really) is a greasy, flour-streaked mess.
Sigh.
The bottom row is my less-than-brilliant success row. Left, gf lemon shortbread (better for baking, but with a funny gluten-free taste. You know what I mean), the pretty-dang-good gf chocolate crinkle cookie, and two fairly successful gf chocolate-covered peanut-butter cheesecake balls (yes, they are "decorated." It's the holidays. Shut up).
So, Ma, Pa and Dick, guess what you are getting for Christmas?
No, not pecan shortbread cookies. Those are for the dogs.
You always have the capacity to make me smile, and thank you for that. I am sure that your folks will appreciate your cookies and the effort you put into making them.
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