Rolled Sugar Cookie Fiasco

OK, so people show up all the time with sugar cookies in the shapes of cute little characters. They are all over Kroger's, all over television, all over everything. So, you know, should be easy, right? Rolled sugar cookies. Got it. Let's get rollin' (no pun intended).

I get my recipe for my Halloween Ghost Sugar Cookies from Southern Living. You definitely cannot go wrong with Southern Living. I mean, it's the staple of the baking world. Dive in, no questions asked...And then something's not quite right. I am not exaggerating when I say that I could knock JD out with the dough. And that's before it's refrigerated for an hour. Now, don't get me wrong: I was tempted to slam JD upside the head, but I did not test out my theory. As frustrated as I was (and JD was in nearest striking distance), I utilized the coping skills I teach my clients every day and took a deep breath and tried option B: the recipe on the back of my cookie cutter packaging. They turned out light and fluffy:

And then just to see what would happen I rolled and cut, with great difficulty and heart-ache, the first recipe. They turned out, well, less fluffy:

Luckily icing was uneventful, and most of the cookies actually resembled ghosts. In the end, both of the recipes worked out. The first looked (and felt) more like shortbread cookies, and the second looked (and felt) like real-life actual sugar cookies. All were eaten and presumable enjoyed by all (well, at least JD and work associates).

Lessons learned:
1) You CAN go wrong with Southern Living (if they misprint the amount of butter needed).
2) Rolled sugar cookie baking is not for the feint of heart.
3) Random acts of violence do make you feel better, but will ruin perfectly decent cookie dough.

The Coconut Cake

 
Alright. My first major cake undertaking: a coconut cake compliments of the Barefoot Contessa. So I donned my Anthropologie apron to feel more official, and went at it full steam. What followed was a lesson in getting draped in whiteness: flour, confectioner's sugar, coconut, sugar, cream cheese...there's A LOT of white in a coconut cake and it gets EVERYWHERE. The plus side: I did it right, apparently. The cakes baked beautifully and after an unfortunate icing experience it actually tasted like coconut cake! JD found it to be pretty darn delicious, and when I took part of it to work, the office ladies (all of whom are country-style bakers) gave their vote of approval. Yay!
 
Now, I learned a couple of key lessons during this maiden baking voyage:

1. I bake well while drinking white wine.

2. Let the cake cool completely before attempting to ice it.

3.  I don't like coconut cake.

Lesson yet to be learned: How long can cream cheese icing sit out and still be safe?

Starting to bake is easy as pie...

So what better way to start my baking experiment than with a little pear pie. It sounded like a good place to begin, as I have previously baked a pie without any serious mishaps, and our Green Bean Delivery had three pears included. So, reason dictated that pear pie was a safe and convenient starting point. I will admit that part of my preparation included the purchasing of pre-made pie crusts. Now, before you judge, hear me out: I am not pretending to be an honorable baker.

Moving on...
The recipe came from Southern Living. Who can go wrong with that? Backyard Pear Pie, I believe is the name. I am certain that my pears came from a backyard somewhere. I'm sure they did. Authenticity is of utmost importance in my kitchen and in my blog.

On a Friday afternoon I got home early from work and set myself to baking. Well, as I've learned from this experience, more prepping than baking is actually involved in baking; so, I set myself to cutting four pears into thin little slices, all the while telling myself, "This is calming. You like this. You are baking a pie and this is fun." Ladies and gentlemen, this was boring. However, I somehow managed to make it through the tedium and onto the good stuff of conjuring a kind of pear potion. The aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg filling the kitchen, bubbling in my Le Creuset (thanks Aaron and Malinda), and all during what would normally be my working hours. It was magic.

In the end, the pie was slightly under-baked, but beautiful in Grandma Amstutz's pear-decorated pie plate (I prefer to bake in themes) and yummy when partnered with some ice cream. And during a Sunday Colts' game in early autumn, it was just about perfect.

Let the baking commence!

So the other week I got bored. Card making became too tedious. Climbing too strenuous. Shopping too expensive. Facebooking and television too mind-numbing. So, I did what I do best and decided to launch a new hobby. While polling my ever-supportive husband, he promptly (and selflessly) suggested: "You should bake." Sounded like a good idea. I like sweets, and the pictures in my Barefoot Contessa book were pretty. So why not? I would bake and those around me would reap the benefits. Nevermind that I have my father's temper and even less of his patience. I was going to be a natural. I could feel it.

And so it began...I started baking...and JD started taking pictures. Then JD gave his second suggestion: "You should write a blog." Sounded like a good idea. A way for family to share in my triumphs, and inevitable disasters. So out of one hobby came another. With this post, I am not only a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed baker, but I am also officially a blogger.