The first year after Steve and I moved in, I had some seriously good luck with cookies. Cakes, I never have an issue with, perfect every time, same with pancakes but cookies? I've met my match.
There is a lot of personal preference with cookies, there is the very big crunchy v chewy debate. Personally I am firmly in the chewy camp, the chewier and doughier the better. That first year of our cohabiting, there was something special in the cookie air, and every one I baked turned out just perfectly. We'd have a large covered container of perfect cookies on the side for days at a time, and Steve and I and our guests feasted on soft, chewy perfection in every flavour you could imagine.
Anyway, I'm still not sure what it was about that first year that made the cookies so great. I've come up with a few hypotheses; maybe it was the snazzy new oven in our flat, maybe I'd finally stumbled upon the perfect ratio of oven-temp-to-bake-time, maybe I was infusing each batch with gushing, bubbling loved up euphoria... who knows?
I don't, because once the second summer hit, we moved on from cookies as our preferred snackage and became obsessed with cupcakes. Thus it was another six months before I made cookies again, and by then I'd forgotten the secrets. If there ever were any secrets. This was very sad and actually put a stop to Cookie Bookie Week 2009.
I guess the Cookie God can be temperamental...
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