Because I am one of those crazy people who likes the weird contests at work, I am on a mission to win our department cookie contest. But it is not just a cookie contest... it is also a cookie exchange. So, I need to make 81 cookies - 19 packs of 3 cookies each to trade and 2 dozen for tasting. Which means that I will get 57 cookies back at the end of the day on Friday. I will smile, bring them home and promptly toss in the garbage, because... well, because I see these people's hygiene habits all day at work, and frankly, I don't want to eat their cookies. Also, I don't want to buy new pants after eating almost 5 dozen cookies. So, here is the summary of my cookie making extravaganza, part 1:
5:00 - Assemble baking items
5:30 - Double batch of cookie dough in fridge to chill
5:40 - Dinner break - that was a tough half hour of work! We had leftovers, of course. Puh-lease... I don't cook on a regular day - I can't possibly cook dinner AND bake cookies!
6:30 - Rolling, cutting, baking - 4 dozen cookies - only 2 casualties! Fortunately for the vulture roaming around my house, they were the largest ones, so he made out pretty good as a result of my mistakes.
7:30 - Realize I don't have enough dough to meet my inventory requirements - dishwasher just finished, so I grab the mixing bowl (warning: metal is HOT when removed from dishwasher during 'dry' cycle), whip up another batch of dough and throw it in the fridge to chill - deja vu?
8:30 - More rolling, cutting, baking
8:55 - Last batch in the oven - much quicker than I thought! I am a cookie making master!
9:00 - Yelling at hubs for emptying the dishwasher - hey, I appreciate housework, but he was in my production area - I was trying to get the cookies out of the oven, clean up, etc. and he was all up in my space. Then I had to convince him to finish emptying the rest of it when I yelled at him for walking away. Mixed messages? Who, meeee? (batting eyelashes)
9:15 - 7 dozen cookies snoozing away on the kitchen island, unaware of the fate that awaits them... first, a dressing of icing (as if there weren't enough sugar and butter in them already) to make them beautiful for the ball... then, a horrific battle scene in the office conference room, where the snowmen will be decapitated and the bells will be cracked worse than their fair mother Liberty.
Naked cookies below:
Tomorrow: Icing Capades