I’ve had it with cookies. I still love my chocolate chip with walnuts (my personal best) and the peanut butter cookies were lauded by my sister who ate almost the entire cookie jar when I baked these. Butter cookies and thumbprint jam cookies were greeted okay, but not much enthusiasm.
For real. Who CAN’T bake a cookie?
For the holidays I experimented with pies. Ahh…my pies. I remember my mother would make sweet potato pie and it tasted like meat. That’s why I don’t eat sweet potatoes now. Memories of meat like pies rush in. I’m satisfied now with my Pecan Pie. That’s a gooey delight of sweetness, not for a dieter or anyone watching calories. Yum! Apple pie was met with little to no fanfare but to be fair, it was a Mrs Fields pie crust with dressed up apple filling. Nothing to get your knickers in a knot.
The Boy suggested Blueberry Muffins (nutritious and delicious! he declared) and I made them. They seem to have disappeared from the kitchen.
The skinny: I can’t manage more than coffee in the mornings. It’s just too much to try to cook breakfast, get the Boy on his bus, tell the Teen and her friend that I am not driving them, find ones for those last minute “I need money” cries. A former coworker suggested muffins and she could make a mean muffin. When I worked, I used to spend Saturday afternoons baking for the week. I wanted my family to have more in their stomachs than Cap’n Crunch or Eggo frozen waffles. Once I fell in love with Ramsay and he talked bad about pastry chefs, I left the baking alone. Oh, yeah. My ass was starting to expand from the goodies, also. I dusted off my Better Homes and Garden cookbook and went to town. I think my muffins turned out pretty tasty. I added oatmeal for the Mister’s cholesterol and cranberries for sweetness.
Over the next few days I have a Bacon Corn muffin I want to try. When I told the family the response was CHILLY. Eww, the Teen said and the Boy said he would pass. I haven’t even tried it yet, and the critics are out. I think those would go lovely with a mixed fruit .