So its that time of year, where people do a lot of baking and people of the smarter variety even do studies examining the adverse affects of baking to the waistline during "that time of year." Well "that time of year" is also a week were a workaholic has a break and is unaccustomed to this foreign concept of relaxation. So, thus commences the 7 days of baking.
More astounding than that, can you believe that I made it through the entire bag of unwrapping Kisses, without eating a SINGLE ONE?
Dontcha wish yo batter was sweet like me? Dontcha? (Reality: in baking cookies, all batter looks the same to a great degree, so this is your time to memorize the batter, and insert in various colors and extraneous ingredients for batches to come. Otherwise, this is just boring y'all. This will be one of the few documented batter shots.)
Kissy cookies. Delicious. Confession: I don't know their name. Kissy cookies work for me or mistletoes? hugs and kisses? XOllents? Fred?
They say a moment on the lips, forever on the hips, but I think just looking at pictures of cookies has a non-caloric value unless you are eating cookies while reading this, or it inspires you to do so post read.
A tribute to Shawn Taylor.
Finger-lickin good. Even if you get sick...but I didn't.
And the cranberries fell from heaven into the biscotti, or a stork flew by and dropped off the package, or they were poured in by my dear friend Amy while a picture was shot. You decide.
Gluten free cranberry biscotti. When I say biscotti, I want to say it in a scottish accent. Anyone else?
Me and spoons... I like spoons. Spoons like to fall into the batter. They mock me.
My baking racks, they stack. Be jealous.
Candy cane cookies. They are classics.
But inevitably you end up with extra. So you make a heart or some other warm and fuzzy shape. Awwww de cookie of wooove. (If that was too mushy gushy, you have my permission to go throw up now and return. It will still be here when you get back.)
Buddy the Elf would love these.
And as the mint dark chocolate snowflakes baked, the chorus of Angels sang. Also, parchment paper rocks my LIFE.
Baking plus art equals win. It also helps that it is cheesecake.
"And I past the whirly twirly gum drops."
Molasses crinkles. My grandma's tradition even if you don't know my grandma, bite into one of these and you will. She is the bomb diggity, just like these.
Welcoming a lot of new friends to the family on my spice cabinet. In my next house, I will only have a kitchen. I can sleep on the table.
Meet the newest member of the family. My retro stand-up mixer. I named her Francis.
Insert some excellent retro love song. She's some kind of wonderful.
You mix that batter. (Suddenly the deep voice takes over from that earlier love song). Oh ...yeah ...baby...
Back by popular demand: the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.
One of many cookie trays to venture out into the world, providing a demonstration of both love and love handles.
Brothers are talented at many things, including licking beaters. My brother excels. Way to take one, or many more than one for the team.
Pecan nut-balls. Laura: some are coming your way. This is an old faithful. My mom called them the Cadillacs.
Sugar cookies. My canvas.
A delicious canvas.
And so: after 16 different batches of cookies, biscotti, cheesecake, and bark I now announce this sweet-fest complete. For those of you who helped in the consumption of this project, my jeans thank you because they can continue to fit and be of use to me. For those of you who did not, hang around me long enough you are bound to partake soon enough. Until next time: peace, love and SUGAR!