I usually like to think of myself as being pretty adept in the kitchen. I can't say that I can slice, dice, chop and fry like a Food Network star, but I do know how to use a pan, a knife and a recipe with proficiency and at least some grace. Unfortunately, just when I start to feel confident with my developing kitchen skills, along comes a humbling experience. It just so happens that one notably humbling kitchen experience occured over Holiday break.
When I got home from school, I was especially excited to blow off my finals steam with the heat of a nice warm oven. In the spirit of Christmas, I decided to make some classic sugar cut outs for the family and me to decorate. The cookies came out quite well, crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, spiked with the delicious smell of cinnamon . After letting them cool, I made some icing and my mom and I decorated the cookies while watching Christmas movies. Nothing could feel more cozy and Christmasy than a warm kitchen, a Christmas movie and decorating festively shaped cookies. To add to the enjoyment, my dad loved them! He ate at least 3 that night and within a day, told me that I would have to make more. The recipe made three dozen deliciously decorated cookies, but, despite the joy they brought, there just wasn't any room for them. So, to try to save space, we stored the excess cookies on plastic Christmas plates in the oven for safe keeping (or so we thought).
A few days later, I was still in the mood for holiday baking, so I decided to surprise my mom with a breakfast of her favorite nut cookies, fresh from the oven. In an effort to complete the dough and bake the first batch before my mom woke up, I hastily gathered the ingredients, read through the recipe and preheated the oven. The dough came together quite easily, and it was ready to be filled and rolled within a half an hour of starting the recipe. It was my first time trying the recipe and I was ecstatic that everything was coming together so quickly and smoothly. But then, I smelled it...
It was that awful, burnt rubber kind of smell. I pealed myself away from my feverish dough-rolling and turned around to see smoke billowing out of the oven. I ran to the kitchen, opened the oven door and saw my dad's favorite cookies (burnt to a crisp) perched precariously on top of melted plastic. At the bottom of the oven, a small fire was burning. I was terrified. What if something else caught on fire and burned the whole house down. Like any logical person, I began to scream and shout a few unnecessary explitives. Instead of waking up to a lovely batch of nut cookies, my mom woke up to a smokey kitchen and a screaming daughter.
Thanks to my mom's amazing ability to stay calm in high stress situations (obviously, it's not genetic...) and some quick thinking, we managed to put out the fire, air out the house with countless open doors and windows, and clean up the sticky, plastic mess that covered the inside of the oven. The nut cookies were baked in my grandmother's oven (who conveniently lives right next door) and my house is still standing. A few days later, I even regained enough confidence to make a second batch of the sugar cookies without the tantilizing scent of melting plastic.
So, even though I was knocked down a few pegs due to my kitchen mishap, I certainly added an interesting story to my Christmas party small talk arsenal. And, despite the untimely death of countless sugar snowmen, stockings and Christmas trees, I enjoyed making both the first and second batches of the cut-out cookies. (Hey, anything is better than studying for an Organic Chemistry final...)
Christmas Cutouts
Dough
·
½ cup margarine or butter (or 1 cup for thicker
cookies)
·
1 cup sugar
·
1 egg
·
1 Tbs. milk (or cream)
·
2 cups flour
·
1 ½ tsp. baking powder
·
½ tsp. salt
·
¼ tsp. white pepper
·
1 tsp. cinnamon
Icing
·
1 ½ cups XX sugar
·
2 Tbs. cream
·
1 ½ tsp. vanilla
Cream butter and sugar until
smooth. Add egg and milk and beat well. Sift together flour, baking powder,
salt, ginger, white pepper and cinnamon. Add to butter and sugar mixture.
Chill, roll to ¼ inch thickness, and cut. Bake at 350° for 10 minutes, or until
lightly browned at edges.
For
icing, beat sugar, cream and vanilla until smooth. Separate into bowls and
add color (optional).