I arrived home from work this evening at 9:30. All I wanted was a good supper . . and some cookie dough. The cookie dough that was supposed to be baked into cookies two nights ago, but I had a bit of a disaster in the kitchen. This is what I get for beginning to bake so late in the evening.
At some point, I'll write more about my banana bread-baking obsession, where it originated, and how it's going. But for now, I'll just say that my original plans to bake a loaf were ruined when I realized that the bananas were too far gone. There is a small window of opportunity if you want perfectly ripe bananas, and once again, I had missed it.
So instead I decided on s'mores cookies. I had some graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bits leftover from a cookout, so perfect, I thought! And I still stick to my story that I followed all the directions. But why did my cookies end up like this?:
It's times like these that I wish my kitchen-savvy roommate wasn't out of town. She would've had enough smarts to tell me that it needed more flour.
The cookies were so bad that upon attempting to scrape them off the cookies sheet, they ended up in a pile of crumbs!
Fortunately my other roommate was still thrilled and happy to eat the mess on the plate.
I tried a second batch only to accidentally tip the sheet mid-bake when adding the marshmallows. Oops!
By the time my mess had been cleaned up, it was way past my bedtime. Why can't I be content to just sit and do nothing one night a week? This failed attempt at productivity should keep me on the couch and out of the kitchen for at least a little while.