Chocolate-Peanut Crinkles & Oatmeal-Chocolate Chippers

Not all cooking disasters are spectacular, call-the-fire-department, buy yourself a new oven kinds of disasters. Some are weird, some are just boring, and then there are the ones like these cookies, which taste fab, but can't be considered anything but a miserable failure because... well, take a look at them.

These are a riff on the lemon-glazed cookies from earlier this summer, themselves a riff on the 'basic drop cookie' recipe I posted all the way back in July. But while those cookies were perfectly delicate and crumbly, rounded and fluffy and moist and delicious, these ones were... not so much. Oh, don't get me wrong: the texture and flavour of the oatmeal cookies was so good I ate three (or what would have been three) in the time it took me to get them off of the cookie sheet, but, as you can see, they melted into one cohesive unit and didn't exactly look appealing after they were done.

I made these cookies in two batches: first the oatmeal and then the chocolate, so I assumed that the oatmeal disaster was (somehow) going to be unique to that batch and that the other one would come out just fine. It did not, and I was thoroughly disappointed.

Here are all the things I think could potentially have gone wrong:

• I overmixed the butter/sugar. My butter was really cold, so it didn't 'cream' very well... my solution was just to keep on mixing it, so by the time I added the dry ingredients, the mixture was pretty runny. Maybe that was part of the problem?

• I used goat butter. Judson is convinced that goat butter can't be used for any of the same tasks as standard butter, but I convinced him to let me buy it because I wanted to see if it tasted any different. It doesn't taste any different, but maybe the fat/sugar content of it is enough of a change to mess with the cookie's texture?

• I just messed up an ingredient, plain and simple. I was halving both of these recipes at the same time, so it's completely possible I just screwed up a quantity without realising it (though that wouldn't explain why both recipes turned out iffy).

That said, I can't bring myself to give them less than 2 spoons because they were just so damn tasty. If you (like me, and like all reasonable people) dislike peanut butter cookies because they're always too dry, crumbly, and lacking in chocolate (except for these amazing ones!), then try these Chocolate-Peanut Crinkles. They've got the flavour of a Reese's cup and the perfect amount of saltiness to cut through the otherwise super-sweet and chocolate cookie dough. They're like a grown-up peanut butter cookie-- rich with the flavour of bitter dark chocolate and a tender crispness that falls apart in your mouth.

As for the oatmeal cookies... well, I think it's time to get one thing straight. On this site, we will never make oatmeal cookies with raisins.* There's nothing worse than biting into what you think is a chocolate chip cookie, only to have to endure a raisin. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, though, are a food of the gods (along with frosting, cheese, oysters, and most wines), and these were no exception. Super thin and delicate without being crunchy or dry, they go perfectly with a cup of coffee or tea, or even a bedtime hot chocolate. While I can't say they'll be my go-to recipe due to the spectacular failure of their shape, I do think I'll make them again... just not when I'm planning to take them anywhere.

*Unless I find a recipe for oatmeal raisin cookies in the box, in which case I will have to make them, but I will only eat one and it will be begrudgingly.

The verdict:

2 spoons out of five. Based on flavour alone, these get 4 spoons for sure. But since I can't ignore the fact that they melted into one solid cookie in the oven, I'm docking two spoons.

The recipe:

Chocolate-Peanut Crinkles

the directions:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F and grease a cookie sheet.
Cream together sugars, butter, shortening, egg, and vanilla until light and fluffy.
Do not overmix.
Add chocolate, peanuts, flour and baking soda.
Blend well.
Drop from a teaspoon 2 inches apart onto prepared cookie sheet.
Bake 8-10 minutes.
Let stand 30 seconds before removing from cookie sheet onto cooling rack.

Yields 2 dozen cookies.

the ingredients:

½ c sugar
¼ c brown sugar
¼ c butter
¼ c shortening
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 ½ oz unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled
½ c salted peanuts, chopped roughly
1 c flour
½ tsp baking soda

---

The recipe:

Oatmeal-Chocolate Chippers

the directions:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F and grease a cookie sheet.
Cream together sugars, butter, shortening, egg, vanilla and milk until light and fluffy.
Do not overmix.
Add flour, baking soda, chocolate chips, oats, and walnuts.
Blend well.
Drop from a teaspoon 2 inches apart onto prepared cookie sheet.
Bake 8-10 minutes.
Let stand 30 seconds before removing from cookie sheet onto cooling rack.

Yields 2 dozen cookies.

the ingredients:

½ c sugar
¼ c brown sugar
¼ c butter
¼ c shortening
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp milk
1 c flour
½ tsp baking soda
1 c chocolate chips
1 c quick-cooking oats
½ c walnuts, chopped

Wind Pudding, or Pineapple Marshmallow Concoction

This week marks the six month anniversary of this blog, which is pretty cool. That means I've made 72 dishes from the box including 6 cheesecakes (with another on the way this week!), 2 disasters, and one boozy drink.

I've taken a lot of pictures, learned where the best light in my kitchen is, and found a workable substitute for shortening. I got a job, went on holiday (3 times!), and celebrated both an anniversary and a birthday with key lime pie. I've also barely put a dent in the total recipes in the box, but I'm trying to go easy on myself on that front-- it took Eleanor 40 years to collect 'em, so as long as I get through them faster than that, I'm still winning, right?

In honour of the six-month-iversary (demiversary?) of this blog, here's some potty humour for you: Eleanor was so painfully proper that she referred to bodily functions as 'chi-chi' and 'boo-boo.' Even when she was potty-training her own kids, that's the only way she ever referred to using the bathroom. Before you ask, no, I do not know which one was 'chi-chi,' and I'm pretty sure I'm ok with that.* Anyway, I always thought those were the two dumbest names I had ever heard of for anything related to... you know. But then I moved to Scotland and learned the phrase 'trapped wind,' which means... well, I'll leave it to your imagination and just say that it's not fit conversation for a food blog. A co-worker of Judson's taught it to him one day and ever since it's become the Scottish phrase that most cracks us up, despite how gross it is. If you ever come visit us in Scotland, just know that the word wind has a whole different meaning for us now.

So of course when I found a recipe for Wind Pudding in the box, I was immediately as tickled as an 11-year-old boy, especially when I realised it's literally a 3-ingredient recipe that sounds (and, in fact, is) terrible.

When I made this, it was a miserable failure. Although I'll be the first to admit that I regularly suffer from cooking-related mishaps, I have a hard time believing this one was my fault. I really think that marshmallows in Scotland are just different than their American counterparts. Seriously: I think American marshmallows are mostly vegetarian these days, but the ones here-- which are much more delicious, in my humble opinion-- are still made with beef gelatin, which renders them chewier and stiffer than American ones, and, in this case, less likely to melt in pineapple juice. I think the marshmallows in the recipe were supposed to kind of dissolve in the pineapple, then the whipped cream would have made the entire mixture like a creamy Dole Whip. But instead, the marshmallows just swelled slightly, holding their shape and texture, and just sitting on top of the pineapple, which was now extra-dry because the spongey marshmallows soaked up all the juice. It's also possible that the size of the marshmallows contributed to this problem-- mini marshmallows have not yet been invented in Scotland, apparently, so I had to use regular-sized ones. Although the recipe doesn't specify the marshmallows should be miniature, I can't imagine it would have hurt.

Even Judson turned up his nose at this, and Judson loves marshmallows.

In conclusion, I have no idea what the 'wind' in wind pudding is referring to. Was it a reference to the tropical breezes of Florida and the fact that they carry with them the sweet smells of tropical fruit, like pineapples? Or was it referring to the air in the marshmallows? I don't know, and I failed at this recipe, big time. Don't make this recipe. Please.

*As a kid, my mom made the grave mistake of telling me this, and I've still never passed a bottle of Chi-Chi's salsa without giggling.

The verdict:

1 spoon out of five. This is the dumbest recipe that exists.

The recipe:

Wind Pudding

the directions:

Soak marshmallows in pineapple overnight.
The next day, whip the cream.
Fold whipped cream into pineapple mixture gently.
Take a bite and then immediately wish that you hadn't.

the ingredients:

1 can crushed pineapple
1 cup marshmallows
½ c whipped cream

Lime-Glazed Pork Chops

Pork chops are the stupidest food. I challenge you to come up with a stupider food, truly. You would think a pineapple would be stupider, on account of how dumb they look, but they're not. Only a pork chop is that stupid. And I'd be willing to bet even Eleanor would agree with me (especially based on how few pork recipes I've found in the box so far.

Here are all the reasons pork chops are stupid:

1. You have to cook them until they have the texture of a shoe in order for them to be safe to eat.

2. They taste like leather (see above).

3. They're so thick and so dense that, no matter what you marinate them in, they're never going to soak up the flavour the way a steak or fish does.

4. Also, somehow the awfulness of pork chops is magnified because of how good all the other cuts of pork are. I mean, bacon and lardons come from the same animal! Why would you bother with a pork chop when you could have those?!

When Judson and I had been dating about a year and had just started to learn how to cook together, I moved into an awesome apartment in an old schoolhouse. But when I moved in, the studio I had paid for wasn't ready and so I had to live in a giant unit twice the size of the one I was supposed to be in. Because the unit was so much bigger than I had anticipated, I had no furniture for it except my bed, so the living room was just a giant empty space with hardwood floors and floor-to-ceiling antique windows. It was basically a dance studio and I got to live there for three months at an unreasonably cheap rate until my smaller unit was ready.

Anyway, my first week there, Judson and I decided we'd make ourselves some pork chops. It was about this time of year, and Judson had just learned to cook and was feeling ambitious. So we bought a butternut squash, some pork chops, and some plums and kumquats to cook with the chops. I, however, had not yet unpacked my kitchen, so we had to cook the chops in a disposable pie tin, and halfway through the cooking process, Judson jabbed a hole in the dish with a sharp knife, and we leaked meat drippings all over my fresh clean oven. Unfortunately, we had no idea what we were doing, and it somehow took us over two hours to cook the meal. When it was finally finished (around 11pm on a weeknight), we realised that I had nowhere for us to sit to eat, and so we sat on the floor of my living room, criss-cross applesauce, leaning against the bare walls, drinking cheap beer and eating too-done pork chops off of our laps. That may be the best memory of pork chops I have, and it's not even a great one.

Nonetheless, I find myself with pork chop recipes and a husband who loves nothing better than pig. Luckily, this one involved lime peel, cloves, and grated lime zest, so I thought maybe those ingredients would overcome #1-4 above. Alas, I was wrong.

Maybe it's the lack of a grill (though I feel like any recipe that can't be tweaked to account for the lack of such a rudimentary cooking implement isn't worth it anyway), but we failed at this recipe miserably. I'll say this: it was easy, and cooking these made our entire house smell amazing for an entire day. But the sauce burned in the pan, and even though the chops weren't burned, they still tasted like the burned sauce. Plus, the chops were tough and the flavour didn't really soak beyond the exterior of the meat. I recognise that making these with a grill would keep the sauce from burning, but it wouldn't fix the toughness. Clearly, though, not everyone shares my opinion, so if you love pork chops and own a grill, then this recipe might be right up your alley. And, like I said, your house will smell like a Hawaiian paradise while you're cooking these.

The verdict:

2 spoons out of five. We managed to eat the ones we made, but only because there was nothing else in the house and we've already survived worse in my unending quest to tweak impossible recipes into possible ones in my own kitchen.

The recipe:

Lime-Glazed Pork Chops

the directions:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Mix together all ingredients except pork chops, whisking well to blend.
Baste the chops, then place them in a searing hot pan for 5 minutes on each side.
Baste again, then move them to the oven for another 10 minutes.
Chops are done when there is no pink in the middle.

the ingredients:

1/3 c dark corn syrup (or 1:1 black treacle and golden syrup if you live over here)
1/3 c lime juice from 2-3 limes
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp lime zest, grated
¼ tsp ground cloves
2-4 1-inch thick pork chops