November 04, 2012

Molasses Cookies with Ginger Cream Cheese Filling

November 04, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

You don't become a baker without developing a few bad habits along the way. Perhaps my most noticeable habit is that I forget to wear an apron. This wouldn't be a problem with most people. Sadly, the same cannot be said for me. When I worked in a bakery, the first business in the morning was to put on my trusty apron. It was more than just a flour barrier between my clothes and me; I relied on it to take the brunt of my clumsiness in the kitchen (graceful, I am not) and often used it as a towel to wipe my hands when a customer came calling. By the end of the day, the apron was hardly recognizable.

Even though I am a home-baker now, with a closet full of adorable aprons, I don't remember I have them until my pants resemble a powdered sugar nightmare. It's a work in progress.

I'm a little ashamed to admit bad habit #2. I don't own a kitchen timer. When I worked in the bakery, it was standard procedure to never set a timer for any baked goods. At first this seemed odd to me, but the ovens were passed so frequently to reach the kitchen sink and food was so strongly on the mind that the entire time I worked there, we only burned a handful of items. I like to think I've developed a "baker's intuition" in my own kitchen, justifying the fact that I never remember to check the time when I put something in the oven. The truth is that sometimes I have excellent intuition and, well, sometimes I do not.

I have gotten quite well at slightly over-baking a little bit of everything. Can we keep this our little secret, though?

Perhaps most shameful of all is that I am lousy when it comes to doing the dishes after wreaking havoc in the kitchen. My boyfriend could write you a novel revealing the horrors of kitchen aftermath. Always full of excuses, I complain to anyone within listening distance that after baking and photographing (and eating) whatever I've made, I'm much too tired to wash the bowls in the sink. No amount of sad eyes and pouting will convince them to clean up after me (I've tried). This continues to be a battle for me, but I am getting better at it. Slowly.

What are your bad kitchen habits?

Molasses Cookies with Ginger Cream Cheese Filling are spiced with everything nice. The cookies bake up soft and cake-like, with a strong molasses flavor and a touch of cinnamon. The cookies are sandwiched together with a cream cheese frosting spiced with ground ginger. Whether you think of these cookie sandwiches as whoopie pies or not, one thing is for certain—it's hard to stop at one. I like to twist open the sandwiches and eat the halves one at a time just to make them last a little longer.

October 07, 2012

Peanut Butter Cup Cookies

October 07, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

Every so often, I crave a warm cookie fresh from the oven. Crisp edges and a soft center can take me away to a special place I like to call cookie heaven. I love the simplicity of a cookie; it may not be as beautiful as a tiered cake or as fancy as a crème brûlée, but it doesn't have to be to leave an impression. Cookies are the everyday dessert—for afternoon snacks and evening treats.

It's hard to beat the simplicity of a good cookie.

As I was growing up, my mother had a rule that my sister and I were never allowed more than two cookies in one sitting. The size of the cookie never mattered—two was the limit. Even though the rule was a simple one, with our best interests at heart, it quickly turned into a rule my sister and I heeded with a religious fervor. For the most part, the rule was easy to follow; easy, that is, until a box of Oreos was placed in front of me.

It is very difficult to eat only two Oreos in one sitting.

Yet, the rule was followed faithfully for years. Even when I wasn't in the house, the rule was so ingrained within me I didn't dare break it. It wasn't until my teenage years that I took my first rebellious step against the cookie regulation. After school, with a house to myself, I ate four Oreos for an afternoon snack. Once the last bite was taken, I immediately felt guilty. Though no one had seen the crime, I was certain my mother would somehow find out about it. I drank a glass of milk to wash out the evidence between my teeth. I rearranged the Oreos left in the bag to try to cover up the scandal. So great was my guilt that I didn't eat a single cookie after dinner that evening.

Looking back, the fact that my rebellious stage involved eating too many cookies in one sitting seems fitting. Even if my mother had found out about my minor rule-breaking at the time, I can't imagine she would have done anything but laugh at me. In fact, since I've kept my cookie secret until now, I can only imagine she's doing the same, shaking her head at the lengths I went to hide my cookie shame.

For the record, I now eat three Oreos in one sitting. I make my own rules now.

Peanut Butter Cup Cookies are the ideal accompaniment to a glass of cold milk. Both the chocolate and peanut butter are in balanced proportion, with neither flavor trespassing over the other. The cookies bake up crisp on the outside, but soft in the center. I love to eat these warm, when the peanut butter is gooey and the chocolate is runny, but they are equally delicious after resting for a few hours (or days).

September 30, 2012

Chewy Vanilla Bean Cinnamon Bars

September 30, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

At times, I struggle to live in the moment. I'm always looking forward, planning ahead, or dreaming about the future. When the everyday begins to grow lackluster, my mind wanders to exotic holidays through ancient cities and foreign landscapes or to the everyday moments of future life that may or may not come to pass. My head drifts above the clouds while my body goes through the daily routines.

I struggle to ground myself in the familiar day-to-day activities of making dinner and studying for exams.

In many ways, a part of me has always been a dreamer. When I was younger, I could never decide what I would be when I grew up. I could imagine the details of a life where I was an author, a zookeeper, a doctor, or an astronomer. I wanted to play a part in all of these lives. I never wanted to settle down, to make a real decision about life, because it felt like there was such a finality about doing so. I wanted to leave more doors open than I would ever hope to shut.

When I walk through home and furniture stores, I imagine my future home and how I'll fill the empty rooms. My home by the sea will hold worn wood furniture and carry the colors of the skies; my home in the woods will welcome long shadows, stone, and the spirit of a dancing flame. These daydreams feel so real in my head; I find myself too busy divining a future that I've failed to cover the white-walls in my current apartment to make my house feel more like a home.

As I've grown up, the dreamer in me has had her fair share of doses of reality. Decisions are inevitable (though never final) and every path has its share of ups and downs. Even when doing something I love, my head still floats above the clouds, wondering what may be around the next corner. As the ever wise JK Rowling cautioned me, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." Those words struck such a chord.

The truth is that I have been forgetting to live in the present for quite awhile now. Instead of dreaming about becoming a mother or wife, a teacher or world traveler, I need to appreciate being a young woman with few ties to hold me down and high aspirations to lead my way. These days will pass too soon. Thanks for the reminder, Ms. Rowling.

These Vanilla Bean Cinnamon Bars have a little trick up their sleeves. Though they may appear to be cake-like in texture, they are actually pleasantly dense and chewy. Vanilla bean and cinnamon round out the flavor, while cornmeal lends the surprisingly texture. Topped with a light vanilla glaze, these bars may find a place in your fall rotation.

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Molasses Cookies with Ginger Cream Cheese Filling

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Chewy Vanilla Bean Cinnamon Bars

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