Stop the Presses!
I blogged my lack of a Food Friday post, and went to the kitchen to start the pizza dough for dinner. Which, yes, counts since it's a new-to-me recipe. But that's not what this post is about.
While I was mixing up the dough, C asked if he could make "cookies". I brushed him off, but he was persistent. He got out his cookbooks and started "reading" from them.
Most of them seem to include phrases like, "If you put in a lot of salt and beets it will be good" and "When you are tired of mixing, you are done". I love pre-readers who pretend with enthusiasm.
He wasn't giving up. He asked for a glass of milk, which I poured for him. Then he asked for a bowl. Before I knew it, he had measured his drink from the beverage glass to the measuring cup I'd set aside, and then to the bowl. And he was in the fridge getting eggs. And dipping into my flour. All while I'm kneading pizza dough.
So I finished the dough and set it aside to rise, and started fetching ingredients for him. The only thing I added was some baking soda, lest we end up with sweet little hockey pucks. He did the rest. And surprisingly enough, he stuck to cookie ingredients. No curry powder or oregano surprises this time around. It was a bit unorthodox, though, what with milk as the first ingredient and unsoftened butter as one of the last.
He got "tired of mixing" when the dough started to form, so for the shaping and baking he gave orders to Mom.
We put them in the oven at 375 F for 10 minutes and whaddya know...
We actually had cookies.
And not only did we give them the thumbs-up, but T even praised them. So we have outside verification.
When this boy is a world-famous chef, you can all say that you knew of him waybackwhen.
PS: Egads! I just noticed the lack of apron. LOL