I do my best thinking late at night. I come up with the greatest ideas and plans — everything just seems simpler and clearer when in the comfort of my own warm bed. It starts out small. I think, “I should get up early tomorrow.” I think about how much better I would feel if I got up an hour earlier and took the dog for a jog. I picture myself awake and happy and running like a champ through the park with Stella at my side. Since I will have gotten up early, I’ll actually have time to do my hair and put make up on. And since I will have gone for a run, naturally I’ll be able to fit into my skinny jeans, and those will go great with the new blouse I just bought and maybe I’ll actually accessorize! In my head I’m so skinny and stylish. Then I start thinking about all the healthy food I’ll eat. I plan my breakfast of oatmeal and a nice salad for lunch. I tell myself that I won’t drink any soda, and I’ll stay away from the vending machine. When I get to thinking about dinner, I realize that I’ll need to go grocery shopping in order to make the elaborate meal I planned. I imagine myself gliding through the organic section and buying lots of produce. Then, while I’m picking out something organic and trendy, a tall, handsome, single rich man suddenly asks for my opinion on which organic trendy thing he should buy. I’m sweet and charming and tell him that I would obviously buy this one because it is the best, and he smiles this brilliant smile and tells me how thankful he is that he ran into me. And then because I actually put on make up in the morning and can fit into my skinny jeans, I feel confident and beautiful and strike up a conversation with him about food and wine and current events. Of course he finds me irresistible and asks me if I’d like to have a drink with him later that evening, because obviously he can’t possibly wait until the weekend, and of course I say yes. Then we get married and have babies and live happily ever after.
It’s weird that none of these things ever actually happen.
So, I fall asleep happy and optimistic, and then I wake up 15 minutes before I’m supposed to be at work, and it’s all down hill from there.
I set myself up for failure with these great expectations, and yet I just can’t help myself. I’m probably not going to meet a ruggedly handsome, somewhat wealthy, highly intelligent professor who is also a lumberjack on the weekends (my dream guy – don’t worry about it) at the grocery store, and if I did happen to run into a handsome gentleman, I’m sure I would be wearing sweats and slippers and have a cart full of pizza bites, ice cream and beer, but oh well. Dream big.
You know what didn’t disappoint me today? These cookies:
Oatmeal Cinnamon Chip Chocolate Chunk Cookies
Adapted from this awesome recipe from SimplyRecipes.com
2 sticks unsalted butter
1 1/2 c. flour
1 t. salt
1 1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. nutmeg
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. white sugar
1 t. vanilla
1 c. cinnamon chips
3/4 c. semi sweet chocolate chunks
3 c. old fashioned oats
Brown the butter. It took me a bit to get the hang of browning butter at first, but now that I know how, I’m addicted. I love using brown butter in cookies, it adds a great nutty flavor. Melt butter over medium heat in a medium sized sauce pan. As you cook the butter, it will start to foam. Continue to whisk the butter, checking underneath the foam to make sure you aren’t burning it. Eventually, brown bits will begin to form and it will start to smell nutty. Once the brown bits form, remove from heat and transfer to a glass bowl to cool. While the butter cools, mix together your dry ingredients.
Whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, and nutmeg. Set aside.
In a large bowl, mix together the brown butter with both sugars on medium speed for 3 minutes. Add the vanilla and the eggs, and mix for 3 more minutes.
Use a wooden spoon to fold the dry ingredients into the butter/sugar/egg mixture. Stir in cinnamon chips and chocolate chunks. Stir in oatmeal.
Place cookies on a parchment paper lined cookie sheet – about 2 inches apart – and cook at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes.