Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies? Not so much.

I take my chocolate chip cookies very seriously. Too seriously, perhaps, judging by my response to this article in today's New York Times promising the perfect cookie. There is so much wrong with this article, I hardly know where to begin. So, I'll begin with the recipe.

1) The Flour: This recipe calls for part cake flour and part bread flour. I read that and I was like, "What the $@%$^!%!!??!!" That's a direct quote. Nowhere in the lengthy article does the writer, David Leite, give even a hint that he's going to change up the standard All-Purpose Flour for this combo. I don't know about you, but I don't have cake and bread flour in my pantry, and if I'm going to go out and buy some, I want to know why those two together are going to give me a better cookie. Usually flour types are designated in a recipe because of their protein/gluten content--is the combination of the two really so different from all purpose?

1a) The Fridge: On a related point, Leite makes a big deal of how cookie dough should cool in the fridge for 36 hours. Twelve hours is good, he say, but 36 is ideal. City Bakery's Maury Rubin gives him this secret and the author of CookWise, Shirley Corriher, practically purrs in admiration of Rubin and his 36-hour tip. I'm glad she thinks Mr. Rubin is such a cool cat, I once did, too. But what I want to know is if time in the fridge is important because it allows the dry ingredients to absorb the liquid, does the kind of flour that's doing the absorbing matter? I know this is anal, but if we're talking about the perfect cookie, I'm going to get anal.

2) The Size: Leite and Rubin explain that size does matter in a cookie. If a cookie is big, it will allow a lovely progression of texture. Ms. Corriher again practically keels over for Rubin's suggestion. But I don't need to know that she wanted to include it in the revision of her book. I need to know what the $#%@^!$ I'm going to do with 18 golf ball sized cookies when they come out of my oven! I don't know about you, but I don't have a warming oven in my kitchen, and if I did, I wouldn't want to keep it going for a week until I finished the cookies. Usually, I freeze the bulk of my (normal-sized) cookies because I find that after two days in an air-tight container, they get stale. I can pull out a frozen (freshly-baked) cookie, let it defrost (or not) and it'll still tastes great. I'm assuming I could do the same with these fancy pants multi-flour cookies, because really, what else would I do with them other than pass them out on the street?

3) What Can Go Wrong: This was actually my first tip that the article was flawed. Leite writes:
"So few ingredients, so many possibilities for disaster. What other explanation can there be for the wan versions and unfortunate misinterpretations that have popped up everywhere — eggless and sugarless renditions; cookies studded with carob, tofu and marijuana; whole-wheat alternatives; and the terribly misguided bacon-topped variety."

I don't know about you, but I've experienced many disasters with my cookies, not ONE of them had ANYTHING to do with carob, tofu, marijuana or bacon. (OK, maybe one had to do with marijuana, but I was 16 at the time, and the marijuana had no contact with the actual cookie dough.) Seriously, I read that paragraph and thought, "Does this guy even bake?" Which brings me to my conclusion.

4) The Writer Doesn't Bake: At least not for any reason other than to show off. He doesn't bake so his kids will have a nice treat that isn't chock full of preservatives. He doesn't bake so his spouse will look at him with googly eyes full of gratitude for the scrumptious morsels of cookie just provided, righting all wrongs that might emerge from the frayed nerves of parents of preschoolers. He doesn't bake so he doesn't realize that when you're at home, the wonder of a chocolate chip cookie is that while a lot can go wrong, you can whip up a batch pretty easily, bake them off pretty quickly, and enjoy them right off a plate or out of the freezer, no warming oven necessary.

Kids at a Wedding

So, this post on Jezebel about whether or not kids should be allowed at a wedding was kind of funny. Guess what? Some people say yes, some people say no. What a surprise!

Some weddings are sophisticated cocktail events where a child in diapers would be as welcome as, you know, a child in diapers, and others are come as you are pot-luck afternoon picnics where the more messy mouths to feed the merrier.

The people throwing the shin dig (and let's hope that's the bride and groom) get to decide on the tone and the guest list.

Some guests are put off when "No Kids" is right on the invitation (granted, the baldness of the statement is rude), and some brides and grooms are put off when people just assume their children are invited, even if only adult names were on the invitation (granted, the baldness of the assumption is rude). In the end, everyone won't be happy - how could they be? it's a wedding! But hopefully, everyone can still have some fun.

How's that for a meaningful post on a hot July day when Obama is tacking right and hoping on one notices?

Sunday Night, Random Thoughts

It's late, I'm tired, but since I probably won't have a chance to post anything tomorrow, here are a few thoughts:
1) My hair looks like Joan of Arc's, and not in a good way.
2) I have to be at a meeting tomorrow morning and I have to look nice but not too dressy for it, and I don't really have anything to wear. I've ordered a skirt and top and the outfit would be appropriate, especially with my cute new red shoes, but it hasn't arrived.
3) I read the July 4th post on BitchPhD about Obama and late term abortion and it really bothered me. Not because Obama has reservations about late term abortion but because BitchPhD seems to think anyone who does must disrespect women and isn't it awful she has to vote for him. I don't know, to me that attitude seems reductive and annoying. Can't someone have qualms about unlimited access to late term abortions (an exceedingly rare procedure anyway) and still respect women? I actually wrote a long post about this, but I think it might be quite muddled and I've said all I have to say on this. For now.
4) Did I mention my hair?
5) I just googled my best friend from high school with whom I haven't spoken in 10 years. I do this periodically. I was hoping for a picture, but I didn't find one. I did find some posts on a foodie web site, though, and that made me feel, maybe weird, but kind of good. I called her about a year ago and she didn't call back. This (combined with a few other things) made me worry about her, and seeing these posts made me think maybe things were better for her. I hope they are. Googling people you used to know is very, very weird.
6) My husband made an excellent salad for dinner into which he put everything but the kitchen sink and now we have very little food left in the house except for, and this is important, one unopened box of 365 brand Peanut Butter Pows. Shazam!

Cooking in Heat

When I look at food magazines this time of year, what with their near porn pics of pies (keep the crust cold!) and cobblers never mind roasted peach salads, all I can think is: "Do these people all have central air conditioning? Are they all shopping locally and cooling thoroughly?" Because, seriously, how else could you keep the pie crust cold if you don't have some kind of cold air blasting mechanism in your kitchen.

Needless to say, I don't make a lot of pies.

It's not that we're without some window units. We've got them (not that I like them so much). But even if we did live in a hermetically sealed perfectly cooled kitchen zone, I don't think I'd be baking all that much. This time of year, it's almost impossible at the end of the day to do much more than throw stuff in a bowl and hope for the best. Some nights even that seems over-whleming, because it requires, like, planning and shopping for what will go into the salad bowl.

Once I read in Gourmet that come summer one editor relied on store bought roast chickens, charcuterie, and sliced vegetables. Now that's some inspired summer cooking. Right?

Is Project Runway worth digging in the trash?

OK. So I love Project Runway as much as the next person. Really, I do. But if Harvey Weinstein wants to pimp it out and throw the evidence of said pimping into the trash, is it really worth digging it out? Apparently, some poor guy at the Village Voice did just that. And some suckers like me read about it, and now I'm telling you about it. Because even though I'm not a reporter, if I were, I wouldn't be digging in actual trash to figure out just how much money Mr. Weinstein is making on my favorite TV show. Corporate muckracking it's not. OK?

Broken Statues

I saw this headline about the broken fifteenth century statue at the Met and I thought, "Was it a kid with an umbrella?" Because last week I took my kids to the Met and my son really wanted to brandish his umbrella while going through the Greco Roman rooms, and I was like, "No way is my kid going to be the kid who smashes a 4th cent BCE libation cup!" It was pretty stressful. But stressful in a whole other way than coming up with an explanation for my kids about why the superheroes' costumes in the very silly and child-inappropriate Superheroes exhibit were so scary (to scare the bad guys). Good thing they didn't ask about the nipples.

Cute Kills

When it comes to shoes, a very wise friend once told me, point blank, that "Cute Kills." I was just 20 at the time, and it still took me years to assimilate this information. (Years and the discovery that my feet were actually a 1/2 size bigger than I thought.) Now, my daughter is falling into the same cute-shoe trap. A mere 3-1/2, she is all about the shoe, regardless of the fit. It was only under duress that she admitted that her black Mary Janes no longer fit. When I told her she couldn't wear her yellow plastic dress-up mules outside, she stomped over to my husband and announced, "She just doesn't understand me!" And this morning, she insisted on wearing her water shoes from last summer and categorically rejected the notion of buying a replacement pair that might fit better. "I want to stomp, Mommy! Help me stomp better!" It didn't help matters that she'd worn those very same shoes, apparently without a problem, yesterday with our babysitter, who actually is some kind of divine creature and makes things like eating meals seem completely natural and not a bother in the least.

All this to say that in life, there are some lessons we each must learn on our own. As a parent, I can try to guide my daughter, but I can't stop her from falling into the cute shoe trap. No, she'll have to figure that one out all by herself.