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Cream & Dream

Sometimes the smell of flour comes to me while I'm sleeping. Don't ask how I can smell in my sleep. Every now and then I dream in black and white. Occasionally I also talk. Just ask my roommate about butter and where you can't put it. Unconscious I'm a ball of weird fun. All that is to say earlier this week I woke up in the mood to bake something. Misadventures with butter lead to my decision that I should probably stick to only writing non-cookbook entities.

Serious note: checking to see if you have enough butter is a good idea when you start a recipe. I didn't. So I pulled a My Drunk Kitchen and experimented. Spilled flour all over myself and the floor for the first time. Couldn't get the dough to properly mash together so I added more eggs, some brown sugar, and extra vanilla extract. Oh and chocolate chips. All this to say I seriously deviated from the original recipe. Unlike writing where you can deviate from your original plan and turn out more awesome, that's not so possible with baking.

This is how I learn! By screwing up and slowly noticing my mistakes. Like changing tenses when I write, comma splices, run on sentences, typos or extra words, and non sequiturs. Yes, I even add non sequiturs to my academic writing. Franco should have gotten a nickname, like Psycho. Hitler and Mussolini both had nicknames (Drug Addict and Il Duce-which when you mispronounce sounds like Ill Dunce).

Cashew Cream

The cookie results were interesting. I won't say awful. After all I didn't get sick. The recipe needs something, probably more tweaking. The results are chewy cookies on the sweet side. I'm sharing the current version of the recipe because I wish more recipes were written like this, in laymen's terms without pretentious words like "Cream the butter and sugar" and maybe a few warnings.