In The Chips

Call me Mrs. Fields.

Or Famous Amos or the Burny Brothers.

That’s because since May of 2016 I have been in the cookie business.

The chocolate chip cookie business to be exact.

For over a year now, I have made The Boyfriend one batch of c.c. cookies every single week.

True, I’ve skipped a week here and there- called on account of illness or out of town- stuff like that.  However there have been a few weeks that circumstances have dictated that I make a double batch so I think it evens itself out.

I never intended having this second career moonlighting as a baker.  I see myself as the clever, temperamental, sensitive artiste type.  You know, clad all in black, moodily gazing out of a window in a shabby-but-chic Paris garret contemplating the mysteries of the universe and writing the Great American Blog.

Instead, a cruel quirk of fate has me trapped in an apron and left me to the mercy of cookie sheets, cooling racks, industrial strength cookie scoops, spatulas and oven mitts.

It seems that my very first gift batch of home-made cookies was a BIG hit with TBF.  He loved them and was so enthusiastic in his praise that I was encouraged to make another batch for our get-together the following weekend.

And the following…

And the following…

And the…

You get the idea.

And I waited patiently for him to get tired of them and let me off the baking hook.

But as the months rolled by, his enthusiasm never flagged,  In fact, it took on a more sinister form.

Addiction.

Friend of Bill W. Sidebar: TBF seems to have one of those “addictive” personalities.  When he likes something it becomes absolutely necessary to his well-being and peace of mind. He is a slave to his routine and doesn’t suffer changes easily.  I only that hope I am one of those habits he’d have a tough time kicking.

To that end, I have gone through floods of flour, barrels of butter, vats of vanilla, sacks of sugar.

And, of course, carloads of chips.

I have used so many heaping cupfuls that Nestle stock should be at an all-time high.

But the good news is that, by now, I can bake a mean chocolate chip cookie in my sleep.  I never have to check the recipe and all my utensils and ingredients are kept together in convenient easy-to-grab places in my kitchen.

I can now throw these together in record time and with the panache of a Winnetka Jacques Pepin.

(Do ANYTHING for a year, and you, too, can be a pro.)

At last count- and I counted out one heaping cupful of chips and then multiplied- I’ve used 18,880 chips so far.

So far, so good.

Quick Author’s Note: Dear Readers, I’m heading out of town this week.  Please excuse my absence.  I shall be back with a brand new blog post on Sunday, August 6.  Thank you.

Now enjoy this batch.