As many of you know, I am randomly, sporadically baking my way through Sharon Tyler Herbst’s The Joy of Cookies, a cookie cookbook I had owned for nearly 20 years but, until a little over a year ago, had never used. This endeavor has caused some particularly funny (to me) trips to the grocery store. It has also caused a few odd (again, for me) forays into the local liquor store. And I cannot imagine what our egg deliverer thinks of our prodigious, if irregular, egg consumption. I am planning to ask for two dozen this week.
These oddities are compounded by the fact that I will go for weeks without baking anything, and then, suddenly, there are weeks where I bake something new every night three or four days in a row.
Saturday I felt another wave of cookie production come over me, and so found myself at Wegmans watching an indifferent cashier ring up my purchases, and I wondered what he might think of me if he noticed at all what I was buying as he scanned two pounds of butter, a pound of lard, two pounds of brown sugar, five pounds of sugar, two packages of shelled pecans, one of coconut and a box of raisins along with a head of red leaf lettuce and a package of chicken thighs. Balancing that diet!
Also last week, I stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of dark rum, another of Kentucky bourbon, and a third of Kahlúa. There, the cashier asked what I was baking, and I said cookies, but I promised not to use all three liquors in one batch. Because that? That would be wrong.
Tomorrow: Kentucky bourbon bars. According to Ms. Herbst, naughty and nice.