Today is July 9th... National Sugar Cookie Day!
This is another one of those "National" days that isn't actually a state-sponsored holiday anywhere in the world as far as I can tell. But who cares if I get to eat some cookies, right?
The orrigional plan today was to wait for my wife to get home from work and make cookies together, take picture, and tell you folks reading at home how fun it is to make cookies with your family, bla, bla, bla...
Lauren has a really long drive home from work though, and I didn't think she'd be in the mood to bake after all that, so I struck out on my own to celebrate this day by myself!
I have a very short and somewhat spotted history with baking. And by that I mean I suck at it. So, I decided that instead of making sugar cookies from scratch, I would pick up some pre-made dough at the store, and just call it a day that way.
I started by getting the dough out of the tube, and rolling it in some flour so it wouldn't stick to the counter top or the rolling pin (apparently no one told my dough that was supposed to work, because it stuck anyway.) I then rolled it out and chose some nifty dino-cookie-cutters to make the most awesome sugar cookies ever.
My first attempt at a dino-cookie didn't turn out well. Or my second. Or the third.
I eventually threw in the towel on that one and just started with some simple shapes. I even did a question mark! That gave me enough confidence to try again with the dinosaurs, and this time, they turned out okay.
As I put the cookies in the oven (350 degrees, 10-12 minutes) I had a sudden bad feeling, like I was doing something wrong. I'd greased the cookie sheet (and the pizza pan) and followed the cooking directions on the package, so I had no idea what it could be. I threw the suckers in there and waited for the timer to go off.
I waited until the edges of the cookies were golden brown before pulling them out of the oven (11.25 minutes exactly) and what to my wide and horrified eyes should appear but... BLOAT-A-SAURUS!
The cookies had of course expanded, and I'd had then way too close together. Also, the store bought dough was obviously not intended for rolling and using cookie cutters, because none of the shapes held... they were all deformed and weird looking.
Despite my failure in baking (Baking 22, Jake 3... sigh...) I had still successfully made slightly burnt but edible sugar cookies, so I could continue my celebration of the holiday! I slathered ol' Bloat-a-saurus with whipped frosting and ate the sassafras out of that cookie!
There was nothing left to do except get a plate full of cookies and eat them for dinner. Note to kids... when you grow up, you too can eat a plate of cookies for dinner... but not until you move out of your parents house.
Come back next time for when I maybe actually observe a real, documented holiday of some sort! Or, you know, maybe not. See you next time!
This is another one of those "National" days that isn't actually a state-sponsored holiday anywhere in the world as far as I can tell. But who cares if I get to eat some cookies, right?
The orrigional plan today was to wait for my wife to get home from work and make cookies together, take picture, and tell you folks reading at home how fun it is to make cookies with your family, bla, bla, bla...
Lauren has a really long drive home from work though, and I didn't think she'd be in the mood to bake after all that, so I struck out on my own to celebrate this day by myself!
I have a very short and somewhat spotted history with baking. And by that I mean I suck at it. So, I decided that instead of making sugar cookies from scratch, I would pick up some pre-made dough at the store, and just call it a day that way.
I had the best of intentions, but you know what they say about good intentions and the road to Hell being paved with them. I don't really know what they're talking about though... I've been down the road to Hell, and the Michigan Department of Transportation sure didn't pave that sucker with good intentions...
 | |
| No really, it's a real place. Look it up. |
I started by getting the dough out of the tube, and rolling it in some flour so it wouldn't stick to the counter top or the rolling pin (apparently no one told my dough that was supposed to work, because it stuck anyway.) I then rolled it out and chose some nifty dino-cookie-cutters to make the most awesome sugar cookies ever.
 |
| Rawr! Dino cookies! |
My first attempt at a dino-cookie didn't turn out well. Or my second. Or the third.
 |
| When H.P. Lovecraft's makes cookies... |
I eventually threw in the towel on that one and just started with some simple shapes. I even did a question mark! That gave me enough confidence to try again with the dinosaurs, and this time, they turned out okay.
As I put the cookies in the oven (350 degrees, 10-12 minutes) I had a sudden bad feeling, like I was doing something wrong. I'd greased the cookie sheet (and the pizza pan) and followed the cooking directions on the package, so I had no idea what it could be. I threw the suckers in there and waited for the timer to go off.
 |
| Doesn't this feel foreboding to you? |
I waited until the edges of the cookies were golden brown before pulling them out of the oven (11.25 minutes exactly) and what to my wide and horrified eyes should appear but... BLOAT-A-SAURUS!
 |
| BLOATED... AND DELICIOUS! |
The cookies had of course expanded, and I'd had then way too close together. Also, the store bought dough was obviously not intended for rolling and using cookie cutters, because none of the shapes held... they were all deformed and weird looking.
 |
| The horror! |
Despite my failure in baking (Baking 22, Jake 3... sigh...) I had still successfully made slightly burnt but edible sugar cookies, so I could continue my celebration of the holiday! I slathered ol' Bloat-a-saurus with whipped frosting and ate the sassafras out of that cookie!
 |
| NOM NOM NOM |
There was nothing left to do except get a plate full of cookies and eat them for dinner. Note to kids... when you grow up, you too can eat a plate of cookies for dinner... but not until you move out of your parents house.
Come back next time for when I maybe actually observe a real, documented holiday of some sort! Or, you know, maybe not. See you next time!
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