Called Out

Ok, I get it.

I haven’t posted much recently. You know it’s bad when fellow bloggers start calling you out on it.  Sorry, Paige.

However, here I am!

And thanks for all the well wishes on the back and sympathy for my pathetic inability to go down a flight of stairs correctly. Handrails are there for a reason, guys. Use them.

Anyway, throughout the rest of the week, my fear of having actually serious injuring myself waned and it seems I’m just a wee bit tender in the lower back region. So I’m comfortable starting up the routine again, but staying off of strength training for a little while longer.

I’m not upset about this. We all know how I feel about using weights. Gross.

By Thursday night, it was decided I could totally go back to my normal morning routine and hit the gym on Friday morning to make friends again with the elliptical.

Friday morning came around. And after four days of sleeping in, why take my chances?  I went for the fifth and swore to make it in today, instead.

I would have felt bad about it, but was instead in an obnoxiously perky mood. Let’s blame overcaffeination that wasn’t necessary because I was extremely well-rested. And the fact that my employer announced we were allowed to wear jeans to work through the end of the holidays.

For an announcement like this to make me literally get up and do a happy dance, it’s clear my life is only average.

Anyway, some of the Chicago Running Girlies decided to congregate with our version of a holiday party (yeah- running is involved), so that is where I’m off to at the moment. Since I wanted to ease back into the working out thing, I sadly decided it would be safer to elliptical my morning away before meeting up with them post-run. Safety first. Blah.

And because you never go to a party empty-handed, I had a mini-marathon baking night with an old coworker last night in preparation.

Snickerdoodles with a white chocolate center and chubby hubby truffles. Excuse the truffles, they need tweaking. However, I don’t even love cinnamon that much and totally went gaga over the snickerdoodles. You should make them. Like yesterday.

We decided to double recipes just to make sure our respective significant others could receive an equal sugar rush. Because the way to a man’s heart is obviously baked goods and steak.

And we all know I don’t know how to make steak.

Happy Saturday, everyone. I cannot think of a way to express my sadness over the current events, but I will say hug everyone a little tighter and treasure the company of those around you. Holiday love. Make it happen.

 

Lingering Halloween Celebrations

I hope everyone had a good Halloween!

After dressing up twice over the weekend, I had no motivation to come up with anything for the office yesterday.

Plus, as I said before, we had a pretty awesome costume-filled weekend. Which is still a relatively new concept for me. Halloween was on my mom’s shit list for a long time.

With both of my parents being notorious teachers in our high school, turns out we were a major target for the good ol’ “let’s to toilet paper a house!” prank.

However, to be fair, maybe we were also asking for it. Growing in our front yard was a 20-year-old tree (or something like that). It surely SCREAMED “decorate me with common household items! Throw food staples at me!”

I still don’t know how people got a trash can up in it one year when we were out of town.

Hats off to you crazy tricksters on that one.

Anyway…

I didn’t really need to celebrate the holiday yesterday in order to throw myself into massive sugar coma.

We had birthday celebrations to take care of around here.

And cupcakes are way better than candy corn. Don’t even try to argue.

Especially when I now know they can be made just two at a time. Mind blown.

Someone give me a reason to make another pair of cupcakes today. Please…

Back In The Day

I am older than my brother by approximately a year and a half.  Which doesn’t mean a lot now. But back when we were kids?

I was THE boss.

When butter and peanut butter are the foundation, you know it’s gonna get good…

He was a pretty decent sport about it, though. He’d let me make the executive decision to play beauty parlor or dress up regularly enough. And to show I wasn’t a heartless dictator, sometimes his teenage mutant ninja turtles would be allowed to save the day when it was time to have adventures with Barbie.

I know. I’m such a giver.

Anyway, little did he know, my power was self-appointed. And little did he know that I really had no idea what I was doing. Like ever.

Probably like most political leaders today. (ZING)

My new mixer! This one hopefully won’t attempt to kill me by having parts of beaters fly all about…

But that didn’t matter. So when I had the brilliant idea to recreate sledding in the middle of summer?

He was down to clown.

So how did we do it, you ask?

Rolling dough into balls… and trying not to eat all the dough…

Well. Our house is on top of a hill. A hill just big enough to have a house on it and that’s it.

Anyway, there’s also a retaining wall built into the hill. It’s hard to explain, but basically imagine a steep hill and a wall at the bottom of it. With a tree was hanging out about 10 feet away from said wall.

I started making the cookies pretty like the traditional peanut butter cookie would be. But then I realized it wouldn’t matter in the end… time efficiency is important!

As a 5-year-old, I was pretty confident in my navigating abilities.

Yes. There was great confidence that I would be able to steer my little red wagon down a hill between two obstacles.

Did I mention I was 5 and also thought I could fly if I closed my eyes and wished it really really hard?

As for the “puppy chow” coating… you know I’m not one to make a dessert without chocolate being involved…

Long story short, the glory of flying down the hill in our little red wagon was a wonderful full 10 seconds before slamming directly into the retaining wall.

As the leader who wanted the best view, I was in front. Because I was in front, I also smacked into the retaining wall. Wagons didn’t have airbags back then.

Dipping the tops of cookies into the peanut butter chocolate coating. The original recipe requires you to dip the ENTIRE cookie into it… but that seemed almost excessive…

No brain damage occurred (shut it, I know what you’re thinking), but boy does the head bleed easily.

My brother was unharmed physically, which further strengthens the argument of why children should not sit in the front passenger seat until the age of 12, however, I think he was a little jarred emotionally as I was screaming and crying about ALL THE BLOOD OMG.

I do feel bad if there was any long term harm done. Sorry, brother.

Anyway… all the blood loss came from a teeny tiny cut in my head, and after a few days, my brother and I were back in cahoots together.

The whole reason I even bothered to tell you this long and drawn out story is that we were like two peas in a pod. No matter what the idea or scheme, I could always count on him as a backup. Whether it be flying down a hill like idiots, or most importantly, stealing as many cookies as possible from the kitchen.

The original recipe calls for way more powdered sugar. But I didn’t really find it necessary, either. The cookies are super rich as-is.

My mom used to make massive batches of puppy chow (muddy buddies- whatever) and leave it out to harden. As soon as she left the kitchen? Game on. In and out of the kitchen we’d go… mouths full of puppy chow.

It’s amazing my brother and I didn’t contract diabetes as children. Because when we weren’t stuffing our faces with freshly made cookies/sweets, we were spooning the dough out of the bowl. Or eating whipped cream out of the container.

Yes that happened and no, we’re not ashamed.

The peanut butter makes them healthy. Protein, don’t ya know…

So there ya go. A double throwback to stories of a more innocent age and cookies that everyone in the world seemed to grow up with.

Those were the days…

For those of you who happen to love puppy chow as much as I do, here’s the recipe. Straight from the Betty Crocker website. Although I did actually make Martha Stewart’s peanut butter cookies on my own. Using the mix just wasn’t going to cut it this time. I couldn’t have eaten spoonfuls of peanut butter that way.

*Shoulder shrug*

And I swear I tried to find a picture of said hill/retaining wall. But alas… there isn’t one. So instead, here’s a picture of me bottle feeding a calf.
Close enough.

Happy weekend!

Behind Closed Doors

Teenage girls are a strange breed.

Pretty sure they scare the crap out of everyone. EVERYONE. Their parents. Their teachers. Their boyfriends. Even their other girl friends.

They. Are. Scary.

Emotional. Irrational. Vicious. Dramatic. Whiney.

Every other day is LIKE OMG THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE EVER EVER EVER.

Hopefully I’ve mellowed out a bit since then (er… *cough* 8 years ago…), but the fact of the matter is that I was one.

The teen years weren’t my favorite time of my life, even with my ability to cry at the drop of a hat. But it was bearable enough.

I bake a lot. So when a beater flies apart mid-mix, I don’t even think twice about it. I only cross my fingers I’ll be able to finish the mixing process before the other part of it flies away.

My parents may say otherwise. As the eldest of my brother and I, I took it upon myself to break my parents in. Test the waters. Push the limits.

Annoy the crap out of them.

My mom’s biggest complaint?

“Why do you always have to shut your bedroom door? What’s so secret? Why don’t you spend more time in the rest of the house with the family?”

I’ve never used greek yogurt in cookies before. But it was part of the promise of some of the softest cookies of all time. Is this considered healthifying them? I generally shy away from doing such things, but in this instance, curiousity totally killed the cat.

I think she feared the worst. Maybe I was writing a manifesto. Or smoking crack.

Which is extremely ridiculous. Everyone knows you can’t write a manifesto until you’re at least 21. Duh.

And why would the rest of my family want to hang out with me anyway? I was a moody and high strung teenage girl. I wouldn’t have wanted to hang out with me, either.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time I give her peace of mind.

The other part of the beater had perfect timing and died right at the end. R.I.P. hand mixer. It’s been a great 2 years.

Tell her what I was really doing behind closed doors.

Let the world know my secrets.

Ok. Here we go.

I was talking to my friends about boys on the phone. Trying on cute outfits for the weekend (because I was going to get to stay out until 11:00!). Putting on makeup.

And I was dancing. And lip syncing. To Britney. And Eminem. And Third Eye Blind. Because I don’t discriminate.

All of this in front of the mirror. Like a total dork.

That, my dear mother, is what I was doing.

Not that exciting.

PUFFY!

That doesn’t mean I didn’t sneak a scandelous top out of the house under what I was wearing or in my purse (the gas station was an awesome dressing room).

That doesn’t mean I didn’t scrounge up a few bucks to split a 6-pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from time to time with, like, 5 other girls.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t end up on a road trip halfway across the state using entirely gravel roads. (Did you know that was possible? I sure didn’t.)

This stuff is ridiculous. There’s plenty leftover and it’s sad how quickly I’ll go through it.

But as for what went on my room?

Singing and dancing. Strictly singing and dancing.

Disappointing, right?

Anyway…

Oatmeal cookies were a standard in my mom’s rotation of baked goods when I was growing up.

Cookie Butter glaze. This is what takes the cookies from good to great. Enough said.

However, she always used raisins in hers. Which are gross. So I’d only eat the cookie dough because the raisins were easy to pick out.

But now that I’m grown up, and sing and dance with no shame wherever I damn well please, I can make oatmeal cookiest without the raisins.

And maybe even add some cookie butter icing. Because I’m feeling spunky.

The recipe I used for the Biscoff-Glazed Soft Oatmeal Cookies was from Bake at 350 and I will have to say she wasn’t kidding- these really are the softest cookies ever!

Look at the glaze… flippin’ everywhere…. sigh…

Maybe next time I’ll throw in some chocolate chips. Because I felt very strange not using any chocolate at all. Especially considering I rarely call it a dessert unless chocolate is involved.

Anyway. Now that you all know my secrets, I must sign off and get a few things done. Like buy a new hand mixer.

Plus I feel my mother may be calling soon about that mentioned road trip. So I should free up some of my schedule.

Oops.

But before I go….

Yeah. I’m just super mean sometimes.

Happy Hump Day!

I Can Totally Do This

Ok guys.

I’m done whimpering.

People far busier than me can do it. And they do. Because they prioritize what they do during the day. And act accordingly.

This morning workout thing can happen. Sure, work is an hour earlier than what I’m used to. And sure, I may have to break it up on days that I can’t QUITE get up right on time.

But this is happening. Like Friday? I got in a little under 3 miles. And that was getting up at the same I had been with my old hours.

And if I get up 15 minutes earlier? A solid trip to the gym can happen. Like on Monday. Or a 4.3-mile run can happen. Like this morning. We’ll just ignore that the rabbits and rats seem to be partying down before 5:00 in the morning.

Seriously. The rabbits can stay. But 3 rats chillin’ on the sidewalk as I run by? Not cool. 

And what if I decide to sleep in 15 minutes later? Well- I can still get a few circuits from my Jillian workouts in. Flexibility is the name of the game.

I can do this.

Totally.

And yes. That phrase will be repeated. Every morning. Until I believe it.

In other news, I found another thing I can totally do.Bake vegetables into things.

Before you judge me, just listen:

I’m not a super big fan of things like carrot cake (but, if we’re being honest, I’ll eat it for the cream cheese frosting). Or things of the nature.Healthy things don’t go into baked goods. It’s just not right.

Usually.

My old roommate from a few years ago made the meanest zucchini bread back in the day. And even sent it to me once after she moved away.Yes. I loved it THAT much.

However, it has never been made in a kitchen of mine since then.

That changed this weekend.My mom not only gifted me with her presence, but also an entire grocery bag of potatoes and a separate entire grocery bag of larger-than-life zucchini.

Don’t believe me when I describe how big it is? Check it out:Yes. The zucchini slices are almost as big as my bagel thin pulled pork sandwich. The pulled pork was the free food from the ‘rents that my roommate scored over the weekend.

Practically a free meal!

We’re living the dream this week, kids.

But anyway… where was I?Oh that’s right- baked deliciousness. The zucchini bread muffins were adapted from this recipe.

Minus the walnuts. Because they’re expensive and I didn’t have any.

What I did have was a lot of wheat flour hanging around. So I swapped 2 cups of regular flour for the wheat variety. Just for kicks.

Also, because I lack a loaf pan (it’s so embarrassing), I made bread “muffins”. Which worked out well- easier to grab and go:I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- we’re all about streamlining these days.

Holla’.

Just a Number?

My friend Annie’s birthday is this week. We kicked off the week of celebrating by joining her at the F.A.B. (Fighting Against Breast cancer) 5k on Sunday.

She was a perfect hostess and threw a ladies brunch that will surely show up on pinterest one day.

Finishing up last minute details before the race.

Since I crashed at her place the night before, I did what I often have others do for me while baking- sit and kept her entertained as she cooked away.We talked about this, that, and the other, until the topic of her birthday came up. She’s older than me by just over a month. And this is the year we turn 27.

A cookie bar recipe that includes whoppers? And not just some- I doubled the recipe and used the WHOLE carton. You’re welcome.

She said she had always wanted to have get-togethers and throw parties like this when she grew up and was just waiting to do it. Then, she realized recently, that uh…. well… somewhere in the past few years, we did grow up.

When mixing all the dry ingredients, I’ve learned to always hold back, at the very least, a half cup of flour. It only took one incident where there was WAY too much flour listed (I think it was an accident) for me to start doing this. You can always add more- it’s much harder to take away…

When? I’m not quite certain. Adulthood is a sneaky bastard, and I assume it snuck into my head as my preferences turned from Keystone Light to Goose Island.

Or when I made the decision on my own as to where I would live after college?

Or when I started drinking coffee instead of Diet Coke to wake myself up in the morning?

Or when I looked in the mirror and said to myself, “there is no way you’re leaving the house with a skirt this short. Has it always been this short? I look like a prostitute. Did it shrink in the wash?!?!”

Or when I started not being able to sleep in past 8:00 (or 9:00 at the very latest) on the weekends because I felt the need to “be productive”.

Maybe when I rolled my eyes in exasperation and said “oh crap… Mom was right.” (Yes, mom, I have said that. And no, I will not tell you specific times it happened.)

Sometimes a rolling pin just won’t do the trick. That’s when you know it’s time to break out the hammer. And I did. With pleasure. Muahahahaa….

Whenever it was, it happened. And after Annie confessed her realization, we just looked at each other.

Sure, we have two very different lives. She has a husband and owns a house. I’m perpetually single and rent. She’s excited about the idea of children and I can’t wait to say I’ve officially kept a house plant alive for 3 years (this summerrrrr!!!!).

I used the same ratio of whoppers stated in the recipe, however, I skipped the marshmallows and cut back on the amount of chocolate chips used. Unlike the original, I planned to frost the cookie cake and didn’t want it to be overkill.

But we’re both adults, nonetheless. We pay bills and taxes. We grocery shop for ourselves. We clean. We watch the news and discuss the weather. We talk about 401k’s and health insurance options. And, as we now officially enter our late 20′s, the evidence is not only in how we act, it’s on legal documents, too.

A new trick I learned! If you pop the cookie sheet into the freezer for about 10ish minutes before throwing it in the oven, the sides will start to cool down. Because the edges are cooler when put into the oven, they’ll bake slower than usual (and theoretically at the same pace as the middle). This leaves you with a cookie cake that isn’t raw in the middle and baked relatively evenly across the whole pan. Brilliant!

But why don’t I feel different?

I still feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to do some of the things I do without thinking, “oh man… mom and dad are going to be so mad…”. Shouldn’t be allowed to buy certain things on my own. Go where I want without permission.

Ahhhh the pink icing. It not only fits Annie’s personality, it went extremely well with the breast cancer awareness theme of the race!

So, my question is, when does that part change? That part that automatically knows what to do and reminds me “you can do this because you’re an adult and that’s what adults do”.

Or will it? I’m nervous it won’t.

Sometimes the best birthday cakes are simple and fun. Done and done.

Maybe that’s ok. Because I can’t imagine my life without a few nights out of the month where I stay up much too late for my own good. Drink an extra glass or two of wine more than I should. Eat cookies for dinner. Giggle at the word “balls”.

So yes, we have come a long way. And yes, from the looks of this post, I’m still very much confused about my age.

But oh how much longer we have yet to go. 27 doesn’t seem as scary as it used to be.

Talk to me in another year…The recipe used for the cookie cake was Picky Palate’s loaded malted chocolate chip cookie bars. I doubled the recipe so it would give me enough for a 9×13 pan and, as mentioned earlier, cut out the marshmallows and cut back on the chocolate chips. The frosting made up for this. Promise.

Another promise? There is surely not a better recipe for a cookie cake. My favorite thing about it was how the malted milk powder/crushed whoppers baked. They created a texture as if toffee had been added. VERY chewy.  And VERY addicting.

I’ll just hold on to that childish notion of eating cookies for dinner for maybe one more day…

I Want S’More Please…

I’ve mentioned it before, but I think birthdays are SUPER important.

Especially when it’s a birthday of a family member. A friend. Or the guy in the cube down from you that you don’t care about, but there’s still cake in the break room because of it.

See? Always important.

So when it’s your friend and roommate?

Time to break out the big guns.

Err… mixing spoons.

I decided to switch it up a little with a layer of white cake inbetween two layers of chocolate. Yeah. It’s like a surprise when you cut into the cake…

My roommate Bailey had her special day yesterday. But we’re celebrating tonight. It was a planning and logistics issue.

Since we delayed the start of her birthday shenanigans, that just means we have to be that much more crazy.

Uh oh… is that marshmallow creme I see? Find a good marshmallow buttercream recipe that suits you- there are a million different variations. Or, you could just do what I do. And sub in a jar of this stuff for some of the powdered sugar you would have used…

And I’m not just talking about the dancing we’re doing tonight.

I’m also talking about the birthday cake.

Make the layers even. You don’t want a lopsided mess.

Obviously.

You know I heart quality time in the kitchen. Especially when Bailey says “go crazy with it”.

Chocolate ganache made simply out of whipping cream and chocolate chips. Because what’s a cake without a rich filling?

The beautiful thing is, cakes aren’t really too difficult to make. It’s the assembly part that makes it look hard. But it’s not. 

Just a thin layer of marshmallow buttercream and a few spoonfuls of chocolate ganache on the top of each layer.

Sure, it’s time consuming, but easy.

And your cake is built! I suggest throwing a wooden rod or two in there to keep the layers from falling. And then use your extra icing to fill in the sides to make them smooth and even.

Cake:
1 recipe of your favorite chocolate cake
1/2 recipe of your favorite white/yellow cake

Then use your favorite (or easiest) chocolate ganache and marshmallow buttercream recipes. I usually end up just getting an idea of how to start and do my own thing according to taste.

Finished “dirty icing” the cake. Throw it in the refrigerator so the buttercream hardens a little and you can then go over it with another thin layer of icing to make it all pretty and smooth.

Topping is just marshmallows and graham crackers drizzled with chocolate ganache. Easy Peasy.

Ta da! Sure, it’s not perfect. But I was working under a time crunch, people!

A S’more Cake!

This will be the richest thing you eat all year, so cut small slices. A big one will only leave you with an aching tummy and heart palpitations. Of that I know. Between the perfect chocolate cake, a layer of dense white cake, the chocolate ganache, and the marshmallow buttercream… there are just no words.

Beautiful.

And again, I must stress small pieces. No one wants to receive diabetes as a birthday present.

And in the refrigerator it goes until party time. I’m always weird about leaving buttercream out, so just to be safe, I keep it cool.

Now please excuse me. I have a sink full of dishes to tend to and a run to go on so I can still fit into a sassy lil’ number for tonight’s festivities. Balance. Can’t preach it enough.

Happy Birthday, Bailey! Thanks for being a wonderful friend, roommate, and partner in crime!

Keepin’ it real, yo.

Cheers!

Therapeutic

My Tuesday started with a massive headache.

This comes as no surprise. It was Tuesday, after all.

And Tuesdays are just, like, sooooo stuuuupid.

Instead of raging my way through the work day, I really tried to keep it all in check. And channeled the energy elsewhere.

Running with these ladies, to be exact.

Kim and her friend Carrie! Due to my weirdly rotating work schedule, this only happens every other week or so, but it’s always a fun conversation and distraction from my regular workout routine.

We all ran and took our turns venting for 6 miles. It was therapeutic. And I felt fabulous afterwords.

Until throwing myself directly into Bulls and Cubs traffic afterwards. This left me slightly wound up again.

Luckily, there are ways to de-stress at home, too.

Comfort food helps.Or something that, in my frugality, sort of resembles it. A cheap and healthified Mexican dinner for this chick would be a quesadilla stuffed with the refried beans my roommate bought and now refuses to eat (it’s a texture thing), skimping on cheese and overloading on hot sauce. And a side of brussels sprouts to make my mother proud.

It is almost Mother’s Day, afterall.

As a side note, can we talk about how the quesadilla maker could be the greatest invention of all time?

There’s also the option to give your mind an escape.This puzzle is really coming along, kids. The roommate and I have grand plans to spend one night in this weekend in hopes of putting the finishing touches on this baby.

We’re wild.

But I’d like to have it done sooner than later. No joke, I had a dream about it last night. My roommate had deconstructed it. At this point, that may even be considered a nightmare. 2000 pieces is no joke, kids.

Because the day was a doozy, I even went the baking route.Other than obvious reasons of loving cookie dough and the cookies themselves, I really do enjoy the process of baking. Not quite sure the logic behind this, but it makes me feel all happy inside.

Or maybe that’s just the sugar high talking?

Because there’s a friend with a baby coming soon, I thought I’d send some love her way in the form of the Cookie Butter Stuffed Cookies debuted a few weeks ago. Recipes aren’t repeated in this kitchen often, but when everyone raved about them, how could I not?

I made a smaller recipe this time around. But thankfully, there’s still one this morning that was purposely left out of the care package. And it has my name on it. Expect me to have a sugar crash at my desk around 3pm.

After all that, my annoyance from the day finally subsided. Right before it was time for bed.

Funny how that works.

Oh Tuesday. You won again!

Snackage

“What is it?”
“Stick your finger in it.”
“What?”
“Just try it. You’ll thank me later.”

Cookie butter, guys. Talking about cookie butter…

The roomie had no idea what it was. I was happy to introduce her. Pretty sure she’s now mad about it. And upset I used almost all of it in cookies that are no longer around.

So. Like I said- cookie butter.

This is only the second occasion I’ve bought this stuff. First time was around the time when my friend Laura came to visit over New Years. As quickly as the two of us went through it, I thought it’d be safer to only have around the house every once in a while.

That seems to be my policy when it comes to a lot of things.

Sunflower seed butter. Guacamole. BBQ chips. Twizzlers. Cookies.

I like to eat.

But when visitors come through, it only makes sense to have stuff around the house for them to snack on.

The base of any good cookie- butter and sugar. Can I hear an Amen?

Turns out even then you should probably be overly prepared. Cookies… frozen pizza… deli… chips… it was all fair game after we got back from being out and about on Saturday night.

So along with a trip to Target to stock up on man food essentials, I busted out the big guns. Or the big mixing spoon. Whichever works better in your situation.

My one issue with this recipe- there was too much flour for my taste. And my mixing abilities. So either be prepared to scale back on the flour or mix up more butter/sugar/egg mixture to compensate. It was a time killer.

Once again, I looked to Picky Palate for inspiration. And once again, I wasn’t let down and went for a lil’ adaption on her Biscoff Stuffed White Chocolate Chip Cookies.

The only difference (other than eliminating some of the four cups of flour she suggests)? I’ve enjoyed the sweet and salty combo as of late, and since cookie butter is quite sweet in comparison to regular peanut butter, I threw in some crushed pretzels for good measure.

The pretzels were seriously the best idea ever. Throw in at least a cup of pretzels. Maybe a little more if you like the extra crunch, too...

Because if there is one snack that is available 100% of the time, it’s a massive jar of pretzels.

Cereal and pretzels. It makes the world go 'round. This is also the pantry where we keep all the wine. Yes. It is the pantry of no return.

Target knows where it’s at. Bulk food meant for the family. But bought for one.

Anyway, other than the pretzels, I followed the recipe exactly.

A dollop of cookie butter in each little "divet" you press into the bottom half. If the cookie butter leaks out of the side, you're doing something right.

And made sure not to overcook the cookies. Soft and chewy is more my preference.

These made my entire house smell like sugar. Glorious. But bad for sleeping.

Definitely do not skimp on the cookie butter. It won’t be overwhelming- promise. Instead, it adds just a soft layer in the middle that will keep people guessing as to what it is.

They say you can’t re-invent the wheel.

Just so you know, these also travel extremely well. I sent some to my lovely friend Mary for her birthday. Just make sure you have them in a sealed container of some sort and maybe even a piece of bread to keep them soft.

They’re right. You can’t. But you can have a lot of fun making it bigger and better. Just ask the dude who made those spinning hubcap thingies (the proper term, obviously).

These cookies are no different. As the recipe originally goes, they’re super sweet and delicious. But the pretzels? They’re the spinning hub cap thingie. Not necessary but obnoxiously awesome.

*Oh and because you guys asked, that burger from yesterday’s post? I got a little over half way through it at the restaurant. Finished the rest 4 hours later before we went out for drinks. BAM.

More Randomness For The Files

1. I hate packing peanuts. They’re awful. Why not bubble wrap? It doesn’t make a mess and is fun to pop. It’s the obvious way to go. But packing peanuts? They make a mess of my work area. And when they’re not all over the place, they’re clinging to my pants, my top, or whatever else on my person. Much like my last boyfriend. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now. STOP WITH THE PACKING PEANUTS!

2. My college friend is coming tonight to stay with me through the weekend. He doesn’t care if my place is dirty (trust me- I’ve seen his and that would be highly hypocritical), but yet things needed to be done before his arrival. Laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, etc. Which means the entirety of this week has been meticulously planned out.

Something I didn’t plan for? Cubs/Sox/Bulls/Blackhawks traffic. An extra 30-45 minutes spent on the interstate each night is really screwing this up.

It’s also screwing with my sanity, but at this point, that’s a non-issue.

3. My obsessively planned out week has left me with no time to watch the newest episodes of New Girl and Modern Family, along with a few others I don’t care to admit I tape on a weekly basis. This saddens me. #FirstWorldProblems

4. Another thing that saddens me? A zit on my cheek. Seriously. My cheek? GET OFF OF MY FACE.

Excuse me while I go drown it in zapzit.

5. Baking happened last night. We’ll discuss that later. But the sugar high may or may not have been the reasoning for nonsleep and the lackluster workout this morning. It was less than stellar, but I guess it’s better than hitting snooze and turning over. Which was an option I weighed heavily. 20 minutes on the stairmill and a 1-mile run before saying screw it and going home to finish out with a few circuits of No More Trouble Zones by Jillian.

So at least it was something (with weights!).

That means I can eat more baked goods, yes?

6. Last night also marked a momentous occasion. Remember how I talk about my parents supplying me with food from the garden back home? One of the things they hauled up was a big box of sweet potatoes. Each one being the size of my arm. Last night marked the end of those sweet potatoes.

Asparagus grilled cheese and sweet potatoes. I used a slice of Munster and some crumbled feta for the sandwich. Not sure if cheese experts would approve or not, but it's what I had on hand. And I liked it. So whatev.

It’s amazing I haven’t turned orange.Which is unfortunate. Because Pauly D is cute and I need to attract his attention somehow…

7. I have had the worst time trying to track down a copy of 50 Shades of Grey. Or at least a free copy (I’m looking at you, Chicago Public Library.) Apparently we all have dirty minds and need to read this book. Like now.

8. The phrase “This is my Friday!” really rubs me the wrong way. It was really only amusing the first 50 times I saw it as an update on facebook.

Ok, actually, it never really was.

However, if I were to consider using it, today would be a good day.

I think you know where I’m going with this.

Extended weekend. Holla’.