Monday, December 22, 2008

Christmastime is Here

I'm starting the first batch of cookies before Geoff gets home because I can't emotionally handle telling him precisely how to measure everything without feeling paranoid that I am a nag.

I am not a nag.

I think.

Geoff and I have been working together in the kitchen to make treats for our Christmas gifts this year. Geoff volunteered this idea at Thanksgiving and insisted on helping. I accepted, somewhat hoping he was kidding.

We have mostly been making 3 different recipes for "candies" that require minimal (if any) cooking. So while I -- carefully -- melt the chocolate, he smashes the Oreos and the candy canes, and measures out the marshmallows and the peanut butter. This system has worked out pretty well.

Until Saturday when I made shortbread cookies.

I had to give in and ask for help in order to feed Phoebe and because he was asking, I asked Geoff to measure and sift 4 cups of flour.

It took him less than one minute. I don't think it'd be a stretch to say it took him 30 seconds.

He said "Okay now what do I do with it?"

I said "Wait -- You're done already?" (calling from the living room)

And he said -- ever the expert -- "Yeah it doesn't take that long to sift 4 cups of flour".

And I thought "Hm, that sounds suspicious, but I will trust that it's okay".

When I came back into the kitchen, he said "The recipe says 4 and a half cups of flour" and I said "Yes, I know, but it's a new recipe so I wanted to start out with less, but since the dough still feels sticky let's go ahead and add that extra half."

And I watched -- with horror -- as Geoff reached the liquid measuring cup into the bin of flour and roughly measured out 1/2 cup of flour.

He was not using a dry measuring cup.

He was not using a butter knife to oh-so-delicately rap against the top to settle it, and then slide the knife across to make sure it's perfectly even.

Oh how I love to measure you so precisely, flour. I do. It's so wonderful.

And the man I love was standing there -- without shame or ego -- shaking a heap of flour in a liquid measuring cup, trying to get it even with the line, emptying some, shaking it some more to settle it and get it even with the line, and then dumping the flour (unceremoniously) into the dough.

And I didn't say anything, which went against every instinct I had.

I thought "So what if the cookies don't turn out perfectly -- they're gifts. Who cares?"

So in 2 days we're going to Bakersfield (this is a good time to come and set fire to the leather recliner, in case you're in the area) and will be there until Saturday.

I have been told that I will not be allowed to open my presents before we leave, and I'm not sure who decided that policy because I'm MORE than willing to let Geoff open his presents before we leave ... stupid rules.

We have been enjoying a very mellow couple of weeks, in spite of all the cooking going on around here.

The cookies turned out fine, in spite of the flour not being measured exactly.

My diet has gone well, in spite of all the cookies I've been "sampling" for quality control purposes.

Today is Monday and by Friday Christmas will be over.

This is going to be a very short week.

And in spite of it all, I love this time of year.


Anonymous said...

i have to laugh...geoff measures like me!!!!! i've gotten better at cookies since i gave up on trying to make them reduced fat :) you two have fun making (and sampling) cookies together. and have a great christmas, your first with such a cutie.

Annie said...

Mike always asks me if I need help when I'm in the kitchen. It's very sweet, and I totally appreciate it, but it's always an exercise in patience if I say yes. I think it would be like him watching me try to change the oil in my own car...