We set to the kitchen and pulled out everything in the cabinets that could possibly be helpful. We were motivated to bake, but not so motivated that we would consider going to the store for ingredients. It all could have ended there if Lizzy did not discover that we technically had all the ingredients for a peanut butter cookie recipe she found online. I say "technically" because we did not necessarily have the 2 cups of peanut butter needed. Details.
Perhaps I would have been more suspicious of the flour-less cookie recipe had I not been distractingly dazzled by Lizzy's Kitchenaid mixer. Perhaps I would have stopped and thought about it when the mix was not getting all fluffy as the recipe suggested it should, had I not convinced myself that many of my baking misadventures actually turned into pretty darn good baked goods. In short, I was suffering from envy and pride. Stupid deadly sins.
Whatever it was, by the time I was ready to "roll the dough into a ball" it was painfully clear that a ball was not going to happen. More like a heap of goo. Again I was able to convince myself (and maybe Lizzy, but probably not) that although the so-called dough was not quite perfect, the cookies would most likely taste as they should. After all, we followed a recipe from Real Simple. The entire magazine is devoted to making awesome things simple. It's in the name.
Needless to say, it was almost immediately obvious that these peanut butter cookies were, well, not cookies. I even question whether they were peanut butter. What they definitely were:
2) sticky
3) brittle
4) yes, sticky and brittle
5) slightly carmelized
One would think we would stop there, but oh no. We made two more batches! And yes, we hoped that each batch would turn out better than the last. We even switched from wax paper to cooking spray, just to see if perhaps it would make a difference. The only difference is that it was more difficult to pry the sticky brittle brown substance off of the sheet. By the third batch I disregarded the formality of making separate goo mounds and just poured the remaining "dough" into the center of the baking sheet. When you're beat, you're beat.
So what happened, you ask? Well, first of all is the obvious: I was not drinking wine. My only other thought is that there perhaps should have been flour involved.
Lessons learned:
1) Always drink wine when baking. Always. It helps one think more clearly.
2) Kitchenaid mixers ≠ easy bake oven accessories
3) If you have doubts about something missing in a recipe, follow your gut (although I do not know if I would have had any clue how much flour would have been needed; nor do I know if mine is a gut that should be followed).
4) Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and enjoy the mad scientist results of your baking experiment.
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