Oatmeal Toffee Lace Cookies

It hasn't been so many weeks since I told you that I found the perfect oatmeal cookie. So when I found another recipe for oatmeal cookies in the box, I was hesitant to make them right now-- how could I improve upon perfection?

Well, the only thing I can figure is that these cookies taste nothing like oatmeal. They don't even have an oatmeal texture, and if they weren't such a royal pain to make, I would be sending each of you, dear readers, a tin full of them today. These cookies are basically just toffee-- there's just a tiny dusting of flour in the entire recipe, and the oatmeal is in there at a 1:1 ratio with the brown sugar, so as soon as they get warm, these basically become an oatmeal-studded caramel that expands all over the cookie sheet in the thinnest lattice, turning golden and toasty as it bubbles.

But, alas. In the words of Smitten Kitchen, I have to put a yellow light on these cookies. Had I tried to make them before starting this project, I would have failed miserably. I say this with some certainty, because three Thanksgivings ago, I tried to make these cookies, which failed miserably because I a) didn't follow the directions, b) didn't have the right equipment, and c) (I would argue) the recipe makes them sound infinitely easier than they are and doesn't mention any of the weird conundrums that I faced.

I feel pretty confident that Eleanor had no trouble with this recipe, though, because I think if she had, there would be amendment notes on it detailing the things she changed... and I know she must have made these, because damn, they're delicious.

However. I literally spent the whole time these were in the oven sitting in a chair in front of the oven watching them cook. The recipe itself even says that 'Mrs. Brown's advice is to never leave the stoce [sic], even if it means missing a phone call.' I don't know who Mrs. Brown is, but I agree with her. Shut off your phone, these cookies require full concentration.

The cookies on the right were removed from the cookie sheet when they were still too hot, which is why they are stupid looking.

But are they worth it? HECK YES. The first tray I made shattered upon being removed from the cookie sheet, but I swept the crumbs into an airtight container and we had them over ice cream the next night, and, if possible, they were even better than on the first day! The second and third trays came off in one piece, but in weird shapes because they go from WAY TOO SOFT OMG THIS COOKIE IS MELTING AND BURNING MY HAND to THIS COOKIE IS MADE OF CEMENT AND WILL NEVER COME OFF OF THE COOKIE SHEET in a window of less than a minute, so you have to work quickly, like a bomb defuser, or a brain surgeon. The good news is that once you've made them they actually stay crunchy for up to three days in an airtight container, provided you don't pack them up until they are really, really cool.

Some tips:

• Make sure your cookie sheet is flat, as this batter will turn to liquid as soon as you place it in the oven, and if the cookie sheet is on an angle, the batter will run. This would seem obvious, but you'd be shocked at the angle at which I usually have to use my cookie sheets because I have the world's tiniest/most Scottish oven.

• Keep a close eye on these at the end of their time in the oven and don't be afraid to leave them in for another minute or two. The middle should be soft, but not sticky or wet, and the rim should be just a shade more brown than the golden middle.

• Upon getting them out of the oven, give them 30-60 seconds to cool without touching them-- then slide your thinnest spatula under one and lift it as quickly as you can. If you haven't let it cool enough, your cookie will squish into a weird oval as a result of the spatula pressing on it. If you have let the cookies cool too much, you won't be able to get your spatula more than a ½ inch under the cookie and you're going to have to chisel the whole thing off in tiny crumbs. The good news is that if you do either of those things, the cookies are still going to taste fantastic, even if they look a little worse for wear.

• The recipe below is the original cut in half, because I was afraid 2 cups each of sugar and oatmeal was going to make a huge batch. Out of the quantity below, I got about 20 cookies, but then only about 15 came off the cookie sheet in a reasonable fashion, so the other 5 turned to crumbs. Plan accordingly.

The verdict:

It's hard not to give these toffee bites 5 spoons because they are just that good. But they are a huge pain to cook and get off of the cookie sheet (though the actual batter is a piece of cake-- pun not intended). If you're feeling ambitious, make these. I give them 5 spoons out of five for flavour, 2 spoons out of five for difficulty level.

This is definitely the weirdest selfie I've ever taken.

The recipe:

Oatmeal Toffee Lace Cookies

THE DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F.
In a large bowl, stir together oats, flour, salt, and sugar.
Melt the butter and stir it into the mixture.
Add the beaten egg and the vanilla and stir together.
Place tablespoon-sized dollops of batter far apart on a cookie sheet (no more than 5 per normal-sized cookie sheet).
Bake for 7 minutes, watching carefully, probably from in front of the oven.
Wait 30-60 seconds before removing them from the cookie sheet, but absolutely no more or cookies will not come off the cookie sheet.
Allow to cool completely on a wire rack before storing in a very airtight container for up to three days.

the ingredients:

¼ lb butter
1 1/8 c porridge or rolled oats
1 1/8 c light brown sugar
1 ½ tbsp flour
½ tsp salt
½ egg, beaten slightly (I know, this is a huge pain if you don't have a scale. If you have a scale, use it for this. If you don't, use a small egg or just eyeball it. Nobody's gonna tell.)
½ tsp vanilla

 

Green Salad with Toasted Sesame Vinaigrette

Tonight's recipe comes from a 1967 newspaper article with the title 'The Three Faces of Tossed Salad.' Ahem.

Upon reading that headline, you, like me, might think that the article would hold three different recipes for salad-- or, at the very least, three variations on a single salad. Nope. The three faces of tossed salad are, I kid you not, 'appetiser, accompaniment to an entrée, or main course.' (Although the intro also mentions that a salad can also function as dessert, and I'm assuming the author means some kind of terrible jello-based 'salad' that I can only be grateful is not included in my box).

Anyway, this is the second (and last, to my knowledge) non-mayonnaise-based salad recipe in the box. At first I was kind of high-fiving Eleanor (mentally) for only owning two salad recipes (and one of the two has bacon in it, so I don't even know if that counts) and it was cracking me up that she lived in an era so different from our health-conscious one that she must not have even eaten much in the way of salads. Then I realised I think the only salad recipes I've ever used are... well, the two from this box. Salads are easy. I make them all the time without any guidance-- they're fun to assemble, they don't require much forethought or skill, and if you have a decent pantry, you probably already have the ingredients for a kickass homemade dressing.

As an aside, I always assumed everyone felt this way about salads, until I met Judson. When we were dating, he only 'knew how' (his words, not mine) to make one salad: a spring mix salad dumped out of a bag with Paul Newman balsamic vinaigrette on it. The first time I made salad dressing for us (because I was too poor to afford the $5 bottles at the grocery store), I thought his eyeballs were going to fall out of his head. He was so impressed that night that I've sometimes since wondered if it was half the reason he ended up proposing to me... you know, two years later. In fact, to this day in our kitchen, by Judson's request, I'm the only one allowed to make salads (he is the only one allowed to make eggs, which isn't quite a fair trade since I know how to make eggs, while he doesn't properly know how to make a salad, but I allow it since he always cleans the egg pan after himself).

This salad, though not super hearty, made a great light dinner with some roasted veggies. Judson loved it way more than I did-- I felt like it needed something to anchor it, like a piece of miso-roasted salmon or something, but it was definitely good. The sesame seeds and oil are the only ingredient in here that you might not have readily on hand, but I'd encourage you not to skip out on either one, as they are the thing that makes this salad really stand apart.

The best part of this recipe, as far as I'm concerned, is the ad in the corner of the newspaper that reads 'School Kids NEED SUGAR FOR ENERGY!' next to a giant bag of Dixie Crystals sugar. Truly the 1960s were a dark time for all of us.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. Judson would give it a higher rating than me, so if you trust his opinion, then this should probably have, like, 4 ½ spoons. But for me, if I'm going to take the trouble to follow a recipe for a salad, it better be mind-blowingly good, and this one just wasn't quite there (the original called for peeled tomatoes-- I mean, really?). The sesame seeds, though, were truly amazing-- roast them until they're nutty and brown, and the flavour will help set this salad apart from the kind you pour out of a bag. And it is spring after all-- maybe your make-your-own salad genes are a little rusty after a winter of pasta and chili and all things cosy, and if so, then this recipe is for you. You could make it a little easier by using premade croutons or salad from a bag, or you could easily make this vegan by swapping the honey for golden syrup, agave, or brown sugar. Even I can't ignore the fact that this meal is basically springtime incarnate. Eat it for dinner tonight, look out the window, and marvel at the fact that it's 9:30pm and still light outside. 

The recipe:

Salad with Sesame Vinaigrette

THE DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Toast sesame seeds by sprinkling them in a baking dish and baking for up to 30 minutes, shaking dish occasionally to promote even cooking.
Prepare croutons by placing bread in a baking dish and drizzling olive oil over it until it is well-drenched, then sprinkling onion powder, garlic powder, oregano, and 2 tbsp salt over them.
Bake croutons for 10 minutes, or until thoroughly browned and crunchy.
While croutons and seeds are toasting, prep the greens by washing them and tearing them into bite-size pieces.
Add onion, sliced into rings, and tomatoes.
Make dressing by combining pepper, mustard, and remaining 1 tsp salt in small bowl or jar.
Add vinegar and honey.
Stir in oil, whisking constantly.
prinkle seeds and croutons onto salad, toss well, drizzle with dressing and serve.

the ingredients:

3 tbsp sesame seeds
2 c dry bread, cubed
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp oregano
1 tbsp garlic powder
2 tbsp + 1 tsp salt
1 glug olive oil
2 little gem lettuces, or 1 small head of leaf lettuce
2 good-sized handfuls spinach
1 handful cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small red onion, cut in thinnest possible rings
¼ tsp pepper
½ tsp dry mustard
5 tbsp white wine vinegar
1 ½ tbsp honey
¼ c sesame oil (or to taste-- I use much less)

Chocolate Diva Cake with Brown Sugar Frosting, or, an Ode to the Moms

When I was a toddler, our house was broken into in the middle of the night, while my mom was home alone with my brother and me. (My dad was doing his residency at the time, and was on call at the hospital a few miles away). The only phone we had (it was the 80s) was on the other side of the house, and my mom, who was awoken by the sound of the burglar cutting through the screen of our back porch, had to make the decision of whether to stay with my infant brother and me, whose room was basically next to the porch, or to cross the entire house and call the police from the kitchen, which also overlooked the porch.

She chose, wisely but I'm sure with great difficulty, to sneak across the entire house, crouch behind the kitchen table, and call the police from the corded phone on the wall. At some point after cutting through the screen and getting onto the porch, the burglar got scared and ran off, and, as far as I know, was never caught.

I woke up to the sound of police in our living room, interviewing my mom while sitting at my dad's desk. I remember everything about that night-- how I immediately knew which police office was the boss, and how he had short grey hair and was so nice to me. I remember how when I asked what was wrong and why they were in our house in the middle of the night, before my mom had a chance to answer, he cut her off with 'there was just a turkey who scared your mom, so she did the right thing and called us to take care of it.' And I remember looking over at my mom and thinking she was silly for being so scared of a dumb bird that she called the police.

Years later when I asked her about that night, the only thing she said was 'I was always so grateful to them for not cursing in front of you.'

THAT is the only thing she took away from that night (well, that and the fact that she has never since lived in a house without a phone in the master bedroom). I often go years without thinking about this story, because my brother slept through the whole thing, my dad wasn't even home, and my mom never talks about it. But every time I remember it, I'm literally boggled at how totally fierce my mom is.

Seriously, she's the bravest person I've ever met, in big situations and small ones, and I've met a lot of people.* If everyone had a mom like mine, the world would surely be a better place, and while it would be a disservice to my mom to credit all of her awesome to Eleanor, I think it couldn't have hurt to be raised by a woman who embodied bravery in the way Eleanor did. My mom got all of Eleanor's good qualities and none of her bad ones... except for a complete inability to pronounce the word 'syrup' without making it sound like 'seer-up.' Maybe the same thing will happen to me someday.

So here's a cake for you to make this weekend. Make it for your mom, if she's lives nearby, and thank her for all the times she's been brave for you and fought on your behalf, all the times you don't even know about because she was too busy getting things done to stop and tell you about what a badass she is. If your mom, like mine, is on the other side of the world, then have a piece of cake for breakfast, call her this week and tell her how awesome she is. Chances are, she deserves to hear it. And if your mom is not around, then please accept the virtual hug I'm sending your way, and know that you are loved.

*Incidentally, she's also the single person most capable of embarrassing me, like the time she burst into tears upon meeting my college RA for the first time, or the time she offered to do my best friend's laundry when she came to visit me as a freshman at college, promising that she 'wouldn't even look at the undies!' Oh, mom. I love you.

the verdict:

This cake is astoundingly delicious, and it somehow gets even better as it ages... kind of like most moms. It's called Diva Cake, but it's actually simple to make and the results are fab (the frosting is a little more of a pain to put together, but the results are still worth it. If you don't believe me, then just use your favourite chocolate or cream cheese frosting in place of the below). Plus, it combines two of my favourite things: chocolate and brown sugar. The recipe boasts that it is 'tender, rich, and buttery,' and if that's not the most mom-like description I've ever heard, then I don't know what.

The recipe:

Diva Cake with Brown Sugar Frosting

THE DIRECTIONS:
CAKE:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Line the bottom of two 9-inch round pans with parchment.
Beat egg whites until stiff, then scrape them out of your mixing bowl into a separate container and refrigerate until needed.
Wipe out mixing bowl, then cream together butter, sugar, and vanilla.
Blend in chocolate, then add the beaten egg yolks and mix well.
Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, then add to wet mixture with sour cream.
Beat until smooth, then add coffee.
Fold in egg whites gently.
Pour into prepared pans and bake about 25 minutes until fork inserted in centre comes out clean.
Allow to cool completely before frosting.

FROSTING:

Put all ingredients except vanilla into a pot over very low heat (use a double boiler if you have one).
Stir constantly, then turn up heat slightly and beat with a whisk.
After mixture has thickened, pour into a mixing bowl and beat until mixture will hold a peak.
tir in vanilla, then frost cake.

the ingredients:
the cake:

2 egg whites (yolks reserved)
1 c butter, softened
1 ½ c sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 oz unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled
5 egg yolks, beaten well (save your extra whites for the frosting)
1 ½ c sifted cake flour
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
½ c sour cream
2 tbsp strong coffee

the frosting:

1 c sugar
½ c brown sugar
3 tbsp dark corn syrup (if you're in the UK, you can fudge this by using 2 ½ tbsp golden syrup and the tiniest little drop of treacle. DO NOT go overboard on the treacle, or your frosting will be molasses-flavoured, which takes away from the delicacy of this cake)
¼ c water
2 egg whites
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp cream of tartar (optional, as I forgot this and my frosting was fine)
1 tsp vanilla extract