Oh, hi there. I’m sorry…you were looking for, Lora? She’s gone now…and has been replaced by a savvy business woman!
I kid. I haven’t completely sold out…but my bake stand did! Yesterday was my first day at the farmer’s market and it went really, really well.
There’s me. I took a shower and everything. I’m a serious business lady now.
These cookies are a staple in our kitchen. It’s just one of those recipes, where you always seem to have everything on hand, and they’re always, ALWAYS good.
I got the recipe from AllRecipes.com and they are absolutely delish. Like, maybe, you make them when no one is home, then open all the windows and air the house out so no one knows you made them thus you can keep them all to yourself kind of delish.
The best part though, is the texture. They have a bit of a crunch on the outside, and they are soooo chewy in the middle. And they stay chewy in the middle, for like, a long time. As long as they can last without being devoured anyway.
So you make your batter, then make little cookie batter balls, roll them in sugar, pop them in the oven and they come out looking like this.
If you know me at all, you’ll know I chose that picture in particular, because it looks like a bum. Anyway, then they flatten out a little and they look like this…
Then, your pickiest eater takes a bite of one and it looks like this…
SOLD! By the 4-foot hipster with a grin!
I will full on admit it. I’m totally biased. But I don’t care. I don’t care if the journalist police hunt me down and throw me in prison for it. Because it’s worth it.
My friend Andrea opened up a new bakery/coffee shop in Burnaby and it is, without a doubt, the best place you haven’t been. I’ve had Andrea’s baking before and I will tell you this: I’d go so far as to say it’s “to die for,” except that I HATE that phrase, and really, you wouldn’t want to risk dying because you’d never be able to try any of her delectable deliciousness again. So instead I’ll say it’s to LIVE for.
Also, handling the cafe end of things is my sister Christa. Say hi when you go in! You’ll know it’s her because she’ll probably be the one making a fart sound.
Here’s a picture of the gals so you know what you’re getting into before you go.
Andrea’s is the one cutting the BRAIN CAKE she MADE, and Christa is the one laughing her head off. (Note: Andrea is not actually a cow girl – although should probably consider becoming one because she wears it so well.)
I don’t know how often you eat peanut butter cookies, but there is about to be a sharp incline on your PBC consumption. Here’s why.
They are sooooo good. And so bad! Like self-control-out-the-window bad. And it is with that spirit of pure indulgence that I have decided to name them Peanut Butter Snookies, after everyone’s favourite mom-to-be, Snooki.
A lack of restraint is not the only thing they have in common. Continue reading
Okay, so I got this recipe from my beloved sister, Jenny, who, incidentally, was not consulted before I decided to publish her recipe, so, uh…sorry Jenny. I’ll email you a really ugly picture of myself and you can post it on your facebook as retribution. Okay?
Come on! It’s late, and she just had a baby so I can’t very well call and chance waking her?!?! Do you really want me to do that? What are you sadistic or something? I’m not going to torture the poor woman just so you can feel okay about how you happened upon the recipe for these life-changing cookies.
Seriously, you will not believe how good these are. The outside is crispy. The inside is chewy. And the taste? Well, lets just say that if for some reason there was no way to make them yourself, and you had the opportunity to trade your first-born for a dozen, that baby might not look quite as cute anymore. Plus, cookies don’t cry – and you’ll put on more weight with a baby anyway. Ugh…stop, Lora…just stop.
Anyway, if a picture is worth a thousand words, than hopefully you’ll just skip the previous 1000 awkward words and just check this picture out.
My birthday is coming up, and since I know you are DYING to know what I’d like for a gift…here it is.
It’s a measuring cup/syringe…for sucking up and measuring peanut butter, butter, whatever! If you buy me this, I will make you the best peanut butter cookies you’ve ever had.
It’s only $9.50 so I guess I could just buy it myself. But to be honest, I’m really a bad gift receiver. I’m totally ungrateful and often mock the gift and giver, so after last year’s birthday fiasco, I vowed I’d never get myself another gift again. Bitch.
You should get me one though! You can order it here.
Thanks!
Lora
So despite my last post where I said that this was a faux-holiday, we had a pretty awesome Valentine’s Day at the Banks’ house. Due to a series of great events, I had possibly the best Valentine’s Day this cynical, old crabby-pants has ever had. Continue reading
There was a time when I thought that Valentine’s Day was just a day made up by card and themed-gift manufacturers to make husbands and boyfriends feel like they should buy stuff for their wives or girlfriends, who would have otherwise been just fine.
I have to say though, that as a parent, I have come to realize the true meaning behind the holiday. It’s to guilt parents into buying stupid toss-away valentines for their kids to give (with a healthy dose of uneasiness) to the other kids in their lives. (Which reminds me of a hilarious little blog post I saw here. Check it out.)
So, in quiet protest, I decided to make some valentine-themed treats myself instead of participating in the corporate love-buying-agenda. That way, we can all enjoy a little cupid’s arrow without the sting of having to wonder if “be mine” is a little too presumptuous a message to send to that runny-nosed boy in class who can never seem to keep his socks pulled up.
We’re heading out to a little valentine party for the kiddles and I’m in charge of dessert. So I made these little treats to bring along. Continue reading
The overload of chocolate and deliciousness in these cookies don’t just ease those naggy PMS symptoms, they also make you more tolerable to the other members of your household. Nothing takes away the sting of a, “GOD, you are so ANNOYING!” like a, “Would you like the best cookie you’ve ever had?”
