Baking is therapy. Methodical, scientific, precise and reeking of alchemy, baking is my favorite kitchen activity. It’s nothing short of magical to take some liquids and a variety of powders and with the help of a hot oven, transmogrify them into delicious treats.
Yesterday I made a batch of traditional biscotti and Dorie Greenspan’s Famous World Peace Cookies.
Oh my God. World Peace Cookies.
Biscotti are biscotti. Hard, must-be-dunked, anise and lemon scented fingers of crunchy goodness. I personally prefer them with a cup of strong Earl Grey. However, dunked in heavily roasted coffees or woody oolongs they are equally as delicious. Biscotti are twice baked, adding to not only their hardness, but their shelf life. I somehow forgot a half-batch once that was in a tight cookie tin and six months later they still tasted fantastic. But ya gotta dunk them. At least, that’s how I like mine.
World Peace Cookies are a different beast all together. Think of a chocolate chocolate-chip cookie, only sandy in texture. The recipe calls for five ounces of bittersweet chocolate, but I use three ounces bittersweet, and two ounces unsweetened. The intensely bitter unsweetened plays against the warm caramel flavoring of the brown sugar in the dough (I use dark instead of light to play up the caramel flavor) and adds a sharp contrast to the bittersweet bits, which almost taste like pure sugar in comparison. I actually also double what Dorie’s recipe suggests for salt. I’ve also dusted the finished cookies with sea salt while they are warm so it sticks. Either way, it ramps up the sweet bits even more and allows the bitter ones to stand out.
And the dough itself! Oh, the dough! Eggless, made of creamed butter and sugars (white and dark brown) with a healthy dose of cocoa powder, leavened with just a touch of baking soda and a good measure of salt. It’s good enough to eat even before baking, and I admit to leaving a tablespoon or more in the bowl/on the spatula just to lick it off. Of course, the only thing better than the dough is the cookie, which breaks apart in your mouth, scattering it’s sandy, salty, chocolaty-ness on your lips, on your chin, in your bosom (should you have one) and obviously in your mouth.
Baking is fun. Hard work, but fun.
The above cookies were made for a friend ’cause it was his birthday and I couldn’t think of what to get him. A cop-out, perhaps, but I think I had more fun making them than he will have eating them. In any case, I had a few sample cookies and then they were out of my house. That’s the only problem with baking cookies as a single guy. If I’m not careful, I’ll eat the whole batch.