Cookie Cake Monster

It was the end of a positively foul week, on a day that I was determined to make lemons out of lemonade (figuratively and literally) because it was Jon's 32nd birthday. He has a history of bad birthdays--see birthday #30, when he was living in Boston and I sent him on a treasure hunt to pick up the ice cream cake I'd ordered and purchased, but, sadly, the store lost my credit card information and he had to buy his cake himself. As the lemonade finished chilling, I received via post one of the best gifts ever. A cookie cake.

If the cake had tasted like cardboard, it still would have been incredible because it was sent with such thought by two of my very best friends. But this cake, OH, this cake -- it was marvelous.

Upon first bite, my surprise and delight echoed down the hall of our house. "Oh my god." At times like these, I wish my first responses could be more original, but who has time for words when they're wide-eyededly savoring the awesomeness that is Forget Me Knot's cookie cake.

Ringed with yellow buttercream and green frosted flowers, the kind of frosting that tastes like Crisco in a good way, the thin chocolate layer on top is only a teaser. The cake is at least an inch thick, and dense with the burden of semisweet chocolate chips. It's baked a little raw, so it's like eating cookie dough in cake form. Unlike the ones from the mall that I ate at arcade birthday parties as a kid, this cake tastes and smells of fresh butter, sugar, and chocolate. If there were such a thing as a cookie cake farm, this one would win a smattering of blue ribbons at the county fair.

I was already set to make birthday cupcakes for Jon that day (I wasn't about to try a cake as I hadn't baked in a long while--more on that birthday meal soon), so we ended up with both leftover cake and cupcakes. I tried to be good, I wanted to make the cake last. I cut it into slices, and froze them individually wrapped. That didn't take. The next day when I raided the freezer, I discovered my cake was even better chilled.

A few days later, when it was all gone, I started concocting wild fantasies of valid reasons why I should order another. Then I bought cookies, cookie dough ice cream, and frosting, trying to duplicate my present, but when your point of comparison is the best cookie cake ever, it's not so easy. I comforted myself with cupcakes, and eventually pulled through. Thankfully, my birthday #30 is coming soon, and this is one cake I'd be happy to buy for myself.

Chopped Pleasures

Yesterday I spent 30 minutes chopping one onion, one yellow bell pepper, and one orange bell pepper. The actual time required to chop these three vegetables should be less than half that, even for a slow, methodical, cook-in-training like me, but yesterday I wanted to teach myself the best way to chop the vegetables.

I've been watching a lot of Top Chef lately -- marathons, repeats of last week's competition to refresh me for this week, and one night when I had a bad stomach flu I even watched two of the same episodes in a row. From the bed I cradled my bucket in my hands and angled it to the right, so I could puke and watch simultaneously. Somehow I missed the same scenes during each airing.

While I've been enjoying the drama and the creativity, I've really been watching to learn technique. I admire the way their knives glide ever so smoothly and easily, and how cutting/dicing/chopping/paring is more an art than a means to a meal. I wonder, how to be efficient yet thoughtful with food, how to gain speed and control with a knife, without cutting or losing a finger?

One of our many kitchen-related wedding gifts was a block of Henckels, and yesterday I pulled a few out to experiment on the peppers and onion. The simple act of taking that much time to chop three vegetables was glorious. It's not that I didn't have time to spend on such things when I lived in New York, but time moved more quickly, and a moment of sheer downtime was most often given over to plopping on the couch. In New Orleans, most days still pass me by with surprise, but they allow time for a turn in a rocking chair or a mozy around Audobon Park before they go. That hour or two extra I wished I had at the end of most days in New York, actually seems to find its way to me here. It's only 8 o'clock? In New York it'd be at least nine...Oh, in New York it actually is 9...I've never lived in another time zone before!

I pulled out a huge cutting apparatus, a smaller serrated one, and a paring knife, and set to work. First I tried the large, scary knife, going at all the veggies at once. If I had bigger hands or better control, this could become the most efficient method, but it left too many pieces the wrong size that time around. Next the paring knife, which wasn't large enough, and finally the serrated, which mostly did the trick. I set to work getting all parties approximately equal, and ended up with an inviting, luscious, citrus-colored rainbow on my cutting board. I should mention that I am allergic to the smell of chopped onions -- they make me tingle, ache and cry -- so during this whole affair I was sporting my new onion goggles, which are as dorky as they are adorable. The process was calming and instructive, and the only pressure was that of the knife edging its way through the vegetables.

No matter how well I did or didn't finesse the peppers and onion into their culinary school-approved sized cubes, the chopped salad they later went into was crisp, refreshing, and full of flavor. I chopped mixed greens -- the big knife is very good for quick greens chopping -- and added cherry tomatoes, chickpeas, gorgonzola crumbles, and balsamic vinaigrette dressing. The sparse leftovers are featured above, and made for a good snack before I settled down to write today.

Chopped salads seem destined to become my signature dish (another one I made recently had pears, blue cheese, plus good olive oil, and was creamy yet tart). They make any Plain Jane meal a little more fun and are so much more appealing and easier to eat than a big plate of leafy greens that more often than not cries out for a little more coating of dressing here and a little less there. Plus, they give me ample and enjoyable cause to continue my cutlery practices. Just don't be surprised if my signature dish also leads to a signature finger bandanna, aka, a bandaid.

I Do

The wedding's in a week and my blogging has fallen by the wayside in lieu of moving to New Orleans and seating charts, slideshows, thank you notes, honeymoon plans, and the jitters.

Please stay tuned here for a new post, by a newly married me, in April.

Seattle Food Porn

Some tasty pics from my trip to Seattle. Coffee, fresh and local shellfish, french fries with garlic and apple slices, and local beer at a Mariners game: who could ask for anything more?!

Pretty 'til the last sip

And that I did.

Feast.

Catch!

Oh the tales they could tell.

The apples help counter the garlic.

Watermelon

Due to my job loss and computer crash this week, no new post here for another week or so, but there is one on my other blog, WatermelonShoes.Blogspot.com

Thank you to NotEatingOutinNY.com for answering my questions and driving so much traffic this way.

I look forward to regaling you soon with the details of my bachelorette debauchery and further engagement eating!