Evolution of a Cookie
Today I tried out a new recipe for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I have been on the hunt for some time for the perfect oatmeal cookie recipe. I've tried a number of online and cookbook versions, all of which just didn't turn out like in the pictures. I have been looking for something not to too thin, not too thick, chewy and full of oats, but not a granola bar...you know...juuuust right.
Well, imagine my disappointment when I tried this one and yet again, it was less than I had hoped for. The first batch was thin, crunchy and crumbly! Crud! But, I was determined to have at least decent if not the perfect cookies, so I added some flour to the batter and tried again. The second batch was a little bit better, but still seemed a bit over cooked and too flat, even though I cooked them for less than the stated time. So, the third time around, I added a bit more flour again and lowered the temp, putting them in for the full time. They turned out much better.
If you look closely, you can actually see the difference in batches from left to right on the rack. Still not sure if they ended up the perfect oatmeal cookies. But by far better than past imitations.
One thing that I did realize from this experience was actually how far I've come as a cook slash baker over the years. When I moved out of my parent's house to attend BYU in Provo, I moved in with four other girls and realized very quickly that I was less than a qualified chef. Frequent calls home for some of my mom's recipes and several cookbooks with glossaries at least brought me up from the stone age into the beginner's level. I actually remember once attempting a pasta bake, but not realizing that I was suppose to boil and drain the pasta before putting it together to bake (turned out very crunchy, if you get my drift).
I had a pretty pitiful cooking repetoire to say the least. I didn't know what some of the basic cooking terms even were - "sauté", "broil", "pare", "poach". Might as well have been Greek. Cooking had just not been an interest of mine while I lived at home, and I was paying the price for it.
When Jake and I were married, my weekly dinner menu was a solid rotation of Hamburger Helper, spaghetti, hamburgers, burritos and frozen pizzas. Not the healthiest and not exactly full of variety.
Now all these years later, it's nice to be able to look back and see that I've made some progress. I'm still by no means an expert. For instance, I've still yet to master baking my own bread from scratch or how to grill, but by golly I can whip up a mean roast with Yorkshire puddings, bake and ice a cake and figure out how to tweak recipes a bit to get the results I want. I've been blessed to have friends and family members that are much better cooks that I am to teach me how to take risks in the kitchen, show me some of the ropes, and let me steal some of their perfected recipes. I've still got a long way to go until "Grandma level", but I figure that it takes grandma's fifty or so years to get to that level, too, right? So, I've got a good chance of not disappointing my future grandchildren. I'll definitely have my perfect oatmeal cookies by then.
Well, imagine my disappointment when I tried this one and yet again, it was less than I had hoped for. The first batch was thin, crunchy and crumbly! Crud! But, I was determined to have at least decent if not the perfect cookies, so I added some flour to the batter and tried again. The second batch was a little bit better, but still seemed a bit over cooked and too flat, even though I cooked them for less than the stated time. So, the third time around, I added a bit more flour again and lowered the temp, putting them in for the full time. They turned out much better.
If you look closely, you can actually see the difference in batches from left to right on the rack. Still not sure if they ended up the perfect oatmeal cookies. But by far better than past imitations. One thing that I did realize from this experience was actually how far I've come as a cook slash baker over the years. When I moved out of my parent's house to attend BYU in Provo, I moved in with four other girls and realized very quickly that I was less than a qualified chef. Frequent calls home for some of my mom's recipes and several cookbooks with glossaries at least brought me up from the stone age into the beginner's level. I actually remember once attempting a pasta bake, but not realizing that I was suppose to boil and drain the pasta before putting it together to bake (turned out very crunchy, if you get my drift).
I had a pretty pitiful cooking repetoire to say the least. I didn't know what some of the basic cooking terms even were - "sauté", "broil", "pare", "poach". Might as well have been Greek. Cooking had just not been an interest of mine while I lived at home, and I was paying the price for it.
When Jake and I were married, my weekly dinner menu was a solid rotation of Hamburger Helper, spaghetti, hamburgers, burritos and frozen pizzas. Not the healthiest and not exactly full of variety.
Now all these years later, it's nice to be able to look back and see that I've made some progress. I'm still by no means an expert. For instance, I've still yet to master baking my own bread from scratch or how to grill, but by golly I can whip up a mean roast with Yorkshire puddings, bake and ice a cake and figure out how to tweak recipes a bit to get the results I want. I've been blessed to have friends and family members that are much better cooks that I am to teach me how to take risks in the kitchen, show me some of the ropes, and let me steal some of their perfected recipes. I've still got a long way to go until "Grandma level", but I figure that it takes grandma's fifty or so years to get to that level, too, right? So, I've got a good chance of not disappointing my future grandchildren. I'll definitely have my perfect oatmeal cookies by then.
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