Lately I find myself thinking lately about several things that hindsight would have “fixed”. Ranging from relationships, experiences, choices, and that horrendous hair cut I had throughout high school (think Pat), I
think know I should have known better. A reasonable person in my position would have surely known better, made better decisions, and ultimately have been better for it.
When I first began baking (high school), cookies were not my forte. In fact, I sucked at baking cookies. I would end up with bready cookies without any chew. As a baker who threw away more batches of cookies than I’d care to admit, I was convinced that Nestle’s recipe or any other popular recipes didn’t work for me. Obviously, it wasn’t the recipe. It was me. During law school, one of my best friends vetted my issue through to her baking expert mother and found me an answer: “You shouldn’t pack anything except the brown sugar.” Brilliant! I was packing flour in measuring cup and was too daft to make the connection to the final result. And that did it. This seemingly minor change fixed a problem I was working to solve for 8 years.
Looking back, I should have known better. Obviously the cookie will be more bready with more flour. Insert cliché statement about the clarity of hindsight. But, I was so set on measuring out everything perfectly that I didn’t actually measure properly at all. Similar to not taking time to measure that 5 inches off my hair length would yield a gender-bending hair style. ::Shudder::
Bad hair aside (because there is no excuse for that kind of mistake), I realize that there really isn’t much to “fix.” I’ve made some very dumb decisions and gone through experiences that could have been avoided if I just made the obvious right choice. But, I wouldn’t be where or who I am if I had. Deluding myself to believe that I would be a better person without making the foolish mistakes I’ve made is a falsity in and of itself.
If I had reduced the flour at the onset, I wouldn’t have known myself to be the type of person that tries everything I could without resigning myself to think I couldn’t bake a great cookie. If I had made the “right” decisions, I would not be the type of person who could examine the mistakes, shortcomings and areas of improvement in my life, and be strong enough to dust the flour off my apron and keep moving forward. And, again, I wouldn’t be as proud to share a great cookie recipe with you. This is one of those cookies.
SIDE NOTE! CONGRATS to Eileen at Ham Pie Sandwiches for winning the 4-Piece Le Creuset Mug Set!!! Eileen, email me so I can send out your gift!
Oatmeal White Chocolate Chip Cookies
slightly adapted from Martha Stewart
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup packed light-brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
- 2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
- 2 cups good-quality white chocolate chunks
- 1 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
- 1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts (about 4 ounces)
- Preheat oven to 350 F. Cream butter and sugars in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on medium speed until smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes. Mix in eggs one at a time until combined. Stir in vanilla.
- Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt into a medium bowl. Gradually stir into butter mixture until combined. Stir in oats, chocolate, coconut, and walnuts.
- Drop batter by heaping tablespoons onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper, spacing about 2 inches apart. Flatten slightly. Bake cookies until golden, 16 to 17 minutes. Let cool on sheets on wire racks for 2 minutes. Transfer cookies to cookie cooling racks to cool completely.