First things first, before I forget because all the recent sunny weather has gone straight to my head and caused my brain to erupt into a million tiny little feathers: My chewy peanut butter cookie recipe from the book The Home Baker (as opposed to the restaurant baker, because those fools obviously don’t need any help with their recipes)
8 tbsp butter, softened
Generous 1/3 cup peanut butter
Generous 1 1/8 cups granulated sugar
Generous 1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
- Beat the butter and peanut butter together in a large bowl. Gradually add the sugar and beat well. Take some time to smell the delicious smell of peanut butter and sugar (Seriously, do this. You won’t regret it).
- Add the egg, mix until thoroughly combined.
- Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together into the mixture, mix until just combined, then wrap in plastic wrap and let chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease cookie sheet, slap some rolled-up balls of cookie down on that rascal and do the cross-hatchy smushing thing with a fork. Bake for 15 minutes until golden brown. These are pretty light brown anyway, so you’d better just poke them until they feel slightly firmed up.
- Eat too many, regret it, and then realize since these have peanut butter they’re kind of healthy anyway and then stop feeling bad about the indulgence.
There you are. The peanut butter cookie recipe I make whenever I forget to buy dessert ahead of time. Enjoy!
It was quite the weekend at casa de Mitchell. We spent Friday evening partying with my co-workers and I had my first introduction to the brutal reality that is Monarch vodka. Please, take a page from my book: Monarch does not love you back. Flee from it like the hounds of Hell itself are nipping your heels. I drank one, maybe two shots at the absolute most and I still had the spins and nausea the next day. No good can come of it, friends.
Saturday morning dawned bright and late for us and we awoke to find a nasty little surprise from Doc Holliday, puppy extraordinaire. His chewed-up bone was sitting in his crate. Wes asked him how he managed to sneak his bone into his crate but I was not convinced that Doc carried it in there. I suspected a swallowing and later regurgitation episode, so I investigated.
The evidence confirmed my suspicions: Doc swallowed his whole bone, raggedy sharp bits and all, and later threw it back up again. Lest you forget how determined our dog is to swallow things he oughtn’t, here’s the bone itself, outside my dog’s digestive system:
He’s obviously committed to his craft. I don’t even want to know the calisthenics necessary to get a bone that huge to go down your throat without choking, especially without making a huge fuss since neither Wes nor I heard him doing it. If there were a Guinness Book of World Records for canines, I believe Doc would be in strong contention for the “Most things swallowed in two years” category.
What to do with a dog like this other than make sure to throw bones away when they get nubby and love him in spite of himself?
I’m fully aware that I’m writing about peanut butter cookies and puked-up bones in the same post, and that some people might find that distasteful. Sorry about that. Maybe just don’t look at the picture while you eat the cookies…?