I stupidly got into the habit of providing fresh, homemade cookies for my boy. He doesn’t eat a huge number of cookies, but I worried about nasty things like trans fat in commercially baked goods.
I use actual eggs and butter–which may not be the healthiest products, but I know what they are and where they come from. (Although I try not to think about it because the idea of eating something squeezed out of the back-end of a cow or chicken makes those artificial ingredients created in a sterile lab sound more palatable.)
The cookie jar was empty, had been for a few days.
My boy had started grumbling about the lack of cookies. When was I going to make more? Could I bake tonight? How about tomorrow or the next day?
Ugh! Why had I ever started baking? I’d set a dangerous precedent and my client–er, boy–expected regular delivery.
Then it came to me! My sailor is reasonably competent in the kitchen. He could give me a break by baking a batch of cookies!
I learned it’s much easier to supervise baking than to do it. (Even taking into account all the “Honey, where do we keep the sugar/flour/baking soda/vanilla?” questions.)
His results weren’t quite as wonderful as mine: a bit too brown on the bottom and the size of hamburger patties, but my boy loves them. (Possibly because they’re the size of hamburger patties.)
I’m way too smart to criticize his efforts because I see the bigger picture.
Last weekend, we set a precedent where my sailor successfully baked HUGE cookies that were well-received by our client.