I live in fear of the “Evite.” Just the sight of one in my inbox fills me with a profound sense of dread – “How am I going to get out of this one?” I think, my conscience already grating a hole in my stomach. Give me spam, give me another Nelnet bill, give me chain letters threatening seven years of bad luck lest I forward it on to twenty five of my besties, but please, don’t send me an Evite.
It’s not that I hate people or that I even hate all parties. Every so often I enjoy putting on a pretty dress, spending more than three minutes on my make-up, and “hitting the town” with my close friends. If “hitting the town” means going to a lounge or bar where I can get a nice glass of wine and won’t be ogled by a cadre of frat boys who can burp the alphabet.
I explain my unnatural stance on partying by telling people that I’m the oldest 26-year-old I know. They don’t argue with me. My roommates shook their head in disbelief when I snuggled up on the couch with a cup of Rooibos tea and the remote on Halloween, and I’m certain my behavior last weekend would elicit a few raised eyebrows among my demographic. Instead of going to my friend Rob’s birthday house party last Saturday night, I spent the night with my parents in Orange County. While he and his friends partook in Jell-o shots, I ate mint chip ice cream and watched “Grey’s Anatomy” with my mom.
Sigh. It was a really great night.
What wasn’t so great was the guilt I felt after. Rob has always been a loyal friend to me. He came to my birthday party this past September, which I, incidentally, invited him to via Evite, and when we go to dinner he gives me veto power over which dessert we order. He’s even let me get the gelato instead of his favorite --- the butterscotch budino -- at Pizzeria Mozza.
I IMed Rob first thing this past Monday morning with a promise to make it up to him. I didn’t tell him how – because I wasn’t quite sure myself – but I knew it would involve food (since it’s pretty much all I think about). It didn’t take me long to settle on the best prescription for any malady – chocolate chip cookies.
Despite my adoration for the NY Times perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe, I opted to try Smitten Kitchen’s crispy chewy chocolate chip cookie recipe instead. Deb has never let me down like I’ve let down my friends who are celebrating birthdays, so I knew she’d come through for me in this pinch. And just like I suspected, she did.
The smile on Rob’s face when he bit into the cookie this afternoon finally released me from my prison cell of guilt. In such instances it’s not such a bad thing that I’m the oldest 26-year-old my friends know. When I’m not busy drinking tea, reading the Business section of the paper and going to bed at a reasonable hour, I can make a mean chocolate chip cookie.
Crispy, Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies
From Smitten Kitchen who adapted them from AllRecipes.com
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 egg yolk
2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (I used 1 1/2 cups Ghiradelli 60% cacoa bittersweet chips)
1. Preheat the oven to 325°F (165°C). Grease cookie sheets or line with parchment paper.
2. Sift together the flour, baking soda and salt; set aside. In a medium bowl, cream together the melted butter, brown sugar and white sugar until well blended.
3. Beat in the vanilla, egg, and egg yolk until light and creamy. Mix in the sifted ingredients until just blended.
4. Stir in the chocolate chips by hand using a wooden spoon. Drop cookie dough 1/4 cup at a time (for giant cookies) or a tablespoon at a time (for smaller cookies) onto the prepared cookie sheets. Cookies should be about 3 inches apart.
5. Bake larger cookies for 15 to 17 minutes, or 10 to 12 minutes for smaller ones (check your cookies before they’re done; depending on your scoop size, your baking time will vary) in the preheated oven, or until the edges are lightly toasted. Cool on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.