(no subject)
Aug. 13th, 2004 12:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickThe wrap meeting and elections for *the con* are tomorrow, so I'm making oatmeal cookies (with raisins and walnuts) this morning to take to that. I am not enthused about blowing an entire Saturday (*the con* has once again managed to prevent me from attending the 4-H horse show at my county fair, and this is, I swear upon all that is holy, the absolute last time it's going to do that to me) on this, so I'm ... making oatmeal cookies? Yeah, I know. It doesn't make sense to me, either.
For the folks at home:
Preheat oven to 350
Cream 3/4 cup butter (real), 1 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup white sugar
Add 1 egg, 1/4 cup water, 1 teasp. vanilla (real), mix.
In another bowl, use fork to mix 1 teasp. cinammon, 1 teasp. salt, 1/2 teasp. baking soda, 1 cup flour.
Stir well (the cinammon will show you how homogeneous your mixture is.)
Dump flour stuff into butter/sugar stuff. Mix.
Add 3 cups quick-cook oats, 1 scant cup raisins, 1 full cup chopped walnuts. Stir with a heavy spoon or mix with your hands.
Dollop out using a stingy tablespoon per cookie, twelve to a cookie sheet.
(Do not use the air-bake cookie sheets. Use real ones. These don't taste as good if they're not browned on the bottom.)
Bake cookies 10 minutes. They will firm up as they cool.
Makes approximately 60 cookies.
I believe I'll email my mother today and ask her if she wants me to drop off a jar of peach jam while I'm in the area. If she's not got other plans, what with the whirlwind lifestyle of the recently-retired, it's also possible that I could persuade her to make me dinner. Not-Our-Real & spouse appear to have other plans following the meeting and I'm not all that thrilled about eating out just to eat out. It's more of a social thing... unless there's someone else I'd really like to talk to, I've no damn urge to go out to dinner. It's stressful. Left to my own devices, I'd rather go home and cook my own damn food or (better) get my mom to make me food. Mom is a great cook. (Translation: My mother's food tastes like what I am used to, what I was raised on, what I make in my own kitchen, and what I expect when I sit down to table. Your mileage may vary.)
In other news, I finally got all the educational materials burned to CD for Sector R. Here's hoping he finds them... educational. I still need to write blurbs for them, but that'll be both fun *and* easy, so I can do it tonight. There will be cackling with glee. If I enjoyed the sound of my own prose any more, I'd go blind from it.
For the folks at home:
Preheat oven to 350
Cream 3/4 cup butter (real), 1 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup white sugar
Add 1 egg, 1/4 cup water, 1 teasp. vanilla (real), mix.
In another bowl, use fork to mix 1 teasp. cinammon, 1 teasp. salt, 1/2 teasp. baking soda, 1 cup flour.
Stir well (the cinammon will show you how homogeneous your mixture is.)
Dump flour stuff into butter/sugar stuff. Mix.
Add 3 cups quick-cook oats, 1 scant cup raisins, 1 full cup chopped walnuts. Stir with a heavy spoon or mix with your hands.
Dollop out using a stingy tablespoon per cookie, twelve to a cookie sheet.
(Do not use the air-bake cookie sheets. Use real ones. These don't taste as good if they're not browned on the bottom.)
Bake cookies 10 minutes. They will firm up as they cool.
Makes approximately 60 cookies.
I believe I'll email my mother today and ask her if she wants me to drop off a jar of peach jam while I'm in the area. If she's not got other plans, what with the whirlwind lifestyle of the recently-retired, it's also possible that I could persuade her to make me dinner. Not-Our-Real & spouse appear to have other plans following the meeting and I'm not all that thrilled about eating out just to eat out. It's more of a social thing... unless there's someone else I'd really like to talk to, I've no damn urge to go out to dinner. It's stressful. Left to my own devices, I'd rather go home and cook my own damn food or (better) get my mom to make me food. Mom is a great cook. (Translation: My mother's food tastes like what I am used to, what I was raised on, what I make in my own kitchen, and what I expect when I sit down to table. Your mileage may vary.)
In other news, I finally got all the educational materials burned to CD for Sector R. Here's hoping he finds them... educational. I still need to write blurbs for them, but that'll be both fun *and* easy, so I can do it tonight. There will be cackling with glee. If I enjoyed the sound of my own prose any more, I'd go blind from it.
