Are you a nuts or no nuts type of person?
I’m a no nuts person. I’ll never refuse a brownie, with or without nuts, (I just typoed that as “buts” and snickered to myself. I am apparently a 5-year-old boy) but I generally avoid using nuts in any baked good where the texture of the baked good is my favourite part about it. This includes things like brownies, chocolate fudge and banana bread. When I’m so enamored with feeling the texture of something on my tongue, I don’t like interrupting it with anything hard and abrupt like nuts. This of course doesn’t include baked goods where the nuts are key, say pecan pie or chocolate hazelnut cake. This is strictly a “1 cup walnuts (optional)” sort of situation that I always say “No” to.
These cookies break my brownie rule and are overrun with nuts.
Each month when I get my new issue of Bon Appetit in the mail, I get rather excited. It always comes safely tucked away in plastic wrap and tearing it open, exposing the pages within is not unlike christmas morning.
I’m pretty sure that on average I spend more time each day on the computer than not on the computer. So keep that in mind when I say that I prefer reading the magazine in my hands for a subscription fee instead of on my screen for free. The glossy pictures, the small joy in each new page turned, I’m hooked. To a food magazine.
Shortbread in its simplest form. Butter, sugar, flour.
Come. Come come. Have a seat with me. I have something I need to discuss.
Grab a chair and a muffin. Oh, and some coffee, definitely, muffin + coffee make for a deadly duo. I would argue even better than donut + coffee. Except maybe Krispy Kremes and coffee. Krispy Kreme glaze is so delicious but coats your mouth like nobody’s business and coffee cuts through it beautifully, preparing your mouth for that next bite…
Er, sorry, tangent.
Here’s what I actually wanted to discuss: I think continental breakfast gets a bad rap.
So when I said that my butterscotch craving had been satiated, I was lying.
I thought about keeping up the ruse… for the sake of baked good variety on the blog, moving on to another ingredient… but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie to you, not this early in the relationship. You and me, we’ve been doing this together for what… 2.5 months? If I bring lies into our beautiful honeymoon period, what does that say for the long-term?
Tsk tsk, no, that will not stand.
However, the kitchen was in a bit of a… disarray from my previous endeavour with butterscotch.
I was going to clean it up, but if I did, I wasn’t in the mood to just make it all dirty again. And it was also such a hot day that the thought of turning on the oven was unfathomable.
So so very hot.
It was time for some scotcheroos.
I was in need for some butterscotch.
Unlike chocolate which my heart is always calling out for without pause, butterscotch is one of those things that only beckons from time to time. Understand that I will never pass on butterscotch when it is offered my way, but I don’t often search it out unless I’m in a particular mood.
Chocolate’s naturally darker flavours help balance out the rich sweetness it comes along with. Butterscotch is often like pure unadulterated sugar goo. Well, I don’t mean goo really, I eat butterscotch in a solid form more often than not, what I mean is that all the adjectives that usually go with “goo” in the dessert world are strangely appropriate. Sticky, thick, sugary, rich, oozey… make your teeth scream out in pain/joy delicious. I easily associate all this with butterscotch.
So Trevor wanted to buy some peaches.
However, due to some odd placement decisions by the supermarket staff, he was not able to find his standard peaches. Just white peaches.
We eventually found the normal peaches in a bin over by the… frozen foods? (Err.. what?) By then he already had picked out his white peaches so we just ignored them and moved on.
Unfortunately, Trevor discovered the hard way that he did not like white peaches. He likened them to peaches with no peach flavour. I knew I needed to save the poor things before they ended up in the trash. So I improvised.