I didn’t really want to write about this because it would seem like I whine too much, and I hate that. But at the same time it feels difficult not to talk about it, so I’ll just do like I always say: “Get it out to let it go”.
I don’t like cookies. In fact I don’t have a sweet tooth (still wondering why I bake though). I can munch one or two when I feel bored, but that’s it. I don’t have any special desire for cookies. That explained why I didn’t tackle cookies until recently.
The recent cookie batch was made especially for a friend. It was not like he likes cookies or whatever. I just wanted to make something in squirrel shapes, and cookies were the closet thing I could do, given the constrained time frame (had to get it done in one week). I was pretty happy when I could buy the appropriate cookie cutters (the squirrel and the acorn).
The first receipt I tried was chocolate shortbread, which turned out a mess. I and my dad managed to get rid of about half of the bitter dry baked dough, but in the end I threw the rest into the bin.
Next up I tried the green tea cookies receipt, which turned out well and successfully. Honestly I didn’t know if they tasted good or not. They were okay I guess, but defininately not my most delicious creation.
So I more or less managed well with the cookies themselves. It should not have been a big mess if the cutters were of smaller and less detailed shapes. The acorn was okay, but the squirrel was a nightmare. I had a difficult time transferring the cut-out squirrel onto the baking pan without breaking its head or tail. My patience was really put on test there.
Then there came more practice, this time with royal icing. It worked, both the cookies and the icing, except for that fact that my decoration sucked. But overall I was pretty well-assured that I could make it without any problems when the time came.
Two days before the time came, I prepared the dough and put it into the fridge. One day before the time came, I baked the cookies. I was in a pretty bad mood that night, and just like very other single time, whenever I felt cranky, my baked goods turned out just exactly like I was: bad. So I overcooked the cookies and it was burnt here and there, but still forgiving enough.
I proceeded to decorate the cookies with royal icing. No problem yet, although I realized the icing was a bit watery this time. I went to bed, only to woke up six hours later to find out that the icing hadn’t dried completely yet.
It was nine in the morning, and I was to meet my friend in the early evening. I was still in bad mood and got unfinished work to take care off. Regardless, I still decided to make another batch. This time it turned out perfect (if it hadn’t, I would have killed myself).
That was actually the end of the cookie ordeal, which I swore to myself that I wouldn’t repeat, not unless for another special occasion.
But then I have been reading those beautiful cooking blogs and am completely infatuated by the beautiful cookies they show! I’m not supposed to fall in love with cookies. No! God saves my soul!
Some people are just dense.