Cookies And Cream Quotes

Number of empty Ben & Jerry's containers: 3 -- two mint chocolate cookie, one plain vanilla. (Who buys plain vanilla ice cream from Ben & Jerry's, anyway? Is there a greater waste?)

No guy in his right mind would ever choose me when there are people like Hana in the world: It would be like settling for a stale cookie when what you really want is a big bowl of ice cream, whipped cream and cherries and chocolate sprinkles included.

Others letting you down is ice cream and cookies compared with the rejection of your own soul. I don’t know what is sadder, expecting myself to fail or being too scared to dream of success.

Mallowmelt turned out to be a gooey cake that tasted like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies soaked in ice cream and covered in frosting and butterscotch

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would not take the garbage out! She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans, Candy the yams and spice the hams, And though her daddy would scream and shout, She simply would not take the garbage out. And so it piled up to the ceilings: Coffee grounds, potato peelings, Brown bananas, rotten peas, Chunks of sour cottage cheese. It filled the can, it covered the floor, It cracked the window and blocked the door With bacon rinds and chicken bones, Drippy ends of ice cream cones, Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, Pizza crusts and withered greens, Soggy beans and tangerines, Crusts of black burned buttered toast, Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . . The garbage rolled on down the hall, It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . . Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs, Globs of gooey bubble gum, Cellophane from green baloney, Rubbery blubbery macaroni, Peanut butter, caked and dry, Curdled milk and crusts of pie, Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, Eggshells mixed with lemon custard, Cold french fried and rancid meat, Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat. At last the garbage reached so high That it finally touched the sky. And all the neighbors moved away, And none of her friends would come to play. And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said, "OK, I'll take the garbage out!" But then, of course, it was too late. . . The garbage reached across the state, From New York to the Golden Gate. And there, in the garbage she did hate, Poor Sarah met an awful fate, That I cannot now relate Because the hour is much too late. But children, remember Sarah Stout And always take the garbage out!

You think you're charging up that memory? Is that what you think? You are going to be so sorry when I dream about my experience of eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream yesterday. Now that was exciting.

Of course, that rationalization didn't work at all. It would have helped if I'd had some Oreo cookie ice cream to eat at the same time. I've learned that self-delusion is much easier when there's something sweet in your mouth.

Does cookie dough ice cream go better with red or white wine?

In this way Penelope's happy and sad feelings got all mixed up together, until they were not unlike one of those delicious cookies they have nowadays, the ones with a flat circle of sugary cream sandwiched between two chocolate-flavored wafers. In her heart she felt a soft, hidden core of sweet melancholy nestled inside crisp outer layers of joy, and if that is not the very sensation most people feel at some point or other during the holidays, then one would be hard pressed to say what is.

Mallowmelt turned out to be a gooey cake that tasted like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies soaked in ice cream and covered in frosting and butterscotch.

Raven has always been nice in the same way vanilla is nice but you’d rather have cookie dough.

Did we bring a lunch?' asked Tacy. 'Yes,' said Betsy. 'It's under the seat. There are chicken sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs and potato salad and watermelon and chocolate cake and sweet pickles and sugar cookies and ice cream.' 'It ought to be plenty,' Tacy said.

Life is sweet. Cookies and cupcakes and brownies and muffins and chocolate and ice cream are sweet. Therefore, life is all of the above!~:)

All I want to do is go back to my apartment, cocoon myself inside a cozy blanket, and watch Love Island while eating a pint of cookie dough ice cream.

Each boat-shaped dish held scoops of vanilla and chocolate ice cream beneath thick blankets of chocolate syrup and creamy marshmallow sauce. Mounds of whipped cream rose on top, with a juicy red maraschino cherry at the very peak. Crunchy cookies poked like wings from each side.

Foods Uniquely Designed to Screw Up Your Brain Bagels Biscuits Cake Cereal Milk chocolate/white chocolate Cookies Energy bars Crackers Doughnuts Muffins Pastas Pastries Pies Granola bars Pizza Pretzels Waffles Pancakes White bread Milkshakes Frozen yogurt Ice cream Batter Gravy Jams Jellies Fries Chips Granola

Loaded my black patent leather bag with sherry, cream cheese (for grammy’s apricot tarts), thyme, basil, bay leaves (for Wendy’s exotic stews—a facsimile of which now simmers on the stove), golden wafers (such an elegant name for Ritz crackers), apples and green pears. I was getting worried about becoming too happily stodgily practical: instead of studying Locke, for instance, or writing—I go make an apple pie, or study the Joy of Cooking, reading it like a rare novel. Whoa, I said to myself. You will escape into domesticity & stifle yourself by falling headfirst into a bowl of cookie batter.

Only eating my own bodyweight in cookies was going to help ease this kind of realization. That and maybe two gallons of ice cream.

We’re passing around a box of fancy cream-filled cookies

Moderators are able to enjoy a small bowl of ice cream and leave it at that. Abstainers find that one bowl of ice cream inevitably leads to finishing off the carton, and one cookie is never enough. Abstainers tend to do best when they abstain from all sugar for five or six days per week, leaving a day or two for eating whatever they want. Are you a moderator or an abstainer?

Kate Moss famously said that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” So I thought I’d put together a little list of things she’s obviously never tried before that taste so much better than buying into an oppressive body ideal could ever feel: Pasta, pizza, mangoes, avocados, doughnuts, peanut butter, sushi, bacon, chocolate cake, lemon cake, any cake really, blueberries, garlic bread, smoked salmon, poached eggs, apples, roast dinners, cookie dough, sweet potatoes, whipped cream, freshly squeezed orange juice, watermelon, gelato, paella, oh and cheese. You’re welcome, Kate!

…Sugar has become an ingredient avoidable in prepared and packaged foods only by concerted and determined effort, effectively ubiquitous. Not just in the obvious sweet foods (candy bars, cookies, ice creams, chocolates, sodas, juices, sports and energy drinks, sweetened iced tea, jams, jellies, and breakfast cereals both cold and hot), but also in peanut butter, salad dressings, ketchup, BBQ sauces, canned soups, cold cuts, luncheon meats, bacon, hot dogs, pretzels, chips, roasted peanuts, spaghetti sauces, canned tomatoes, and breads. From the 1980's onward manufacturers of products advertised as uniquely healthy because they were low in fat…not to mention gluten free, no MSG, and zero grams trans fat per serving, took to replacing those fat calories with sugar to make them equally…palatable and often disguising the sugar under one or more of the fifty plus names, by which the fructose-glucose combination of sugar and high-fructose corn syrup might be found. Fat was removed from candy bars sugar added, or at least kept, so that they became health food bars. Fat was removed from yogurts and sugars added and these became heart healthy snacks, breakfasts, and lunches.

The stale Oreo I am munching in the cab, with the cookie part soggy instead of crisp, the white center near-gelatinous-like a room temperature ice cream sandwich-is brilliant, but not coming close to quelling this hunger.

The sources, dubious and dubiouser, also recommended missionary position, and she was happy to oblige. Missionary position was, as far as she could tell, like vanilla ice cream: purported to be boring and chosen only by passionless, unimaginative, exhausted people but really the best one. She liked to look at Penn's face so close that it split into pieces like a modernist painting. She liked the length of his front pressed against the length of hers. She felt that people who needed to do it upside down and backward from behind -- or who added candied bacon or smoked sea salt or pieces of raw cookies to their ice cream -- were probably compensating for a product that was inferior to begin with.

The box was filled with a heating pad, painkillers, several pints of cookie dough ice cream, different kinds of chocolate and all my favorite junk food. There was even a variety box of tampons. My eyes burned. The guys… Something started waving from behind the blazer. A white flag. Someone, probably one of the twins, waved the makeshift flag in surrender.

Please tell me all the chocolate is for us.' The House had stocked the table between the armchairs with piles of chocolate truffles and confections and bars of it. Along with cookies and small finger cakes. And a platter of cheeses and fruit. And carafes of water and various juices. Gwyn surveyed the table. 'Did you go to all this trouble?' 'Oh, no,' Emerie said, eyes glowing. 'Nesta's been holding out on us.' Nesta scoffed, but Emerie said, 'The House will get you anything you want. Just say it aloud.' At Gwyn's raised brows, Emerie said, 'I'd like a slice of pistachio cake, please.' A plateful of one appeared before her. As well as a bowl of whipped cream topped with raspberries. Gwyn blinked. 'You live in a magic house.' 'It likes to read,' Nesta admitted, patting a stack of the romances. 'We've bonded over that.' Gwyn whispered to the room, 'What's your favourite book?' One thumped on the table beside Emerie's cake, and Gwyn squawked in surprise. But then rubbed her hands together. 'Oh, this is delightful.' 'That smile means trouble,' Emerie said. Gwyn's grin just widened.

Nice,” the clerk said without a smidgeon of judgment in his voice as he rang her up. “I especially like the way you’ve got the entire junk food pyramid represented here. That’s not easy to do.” She had a rack of donuts, two pies—one lemon, one cherry—a pint of caramel delight ice cream, a family-size bag of chips, and now cookies as well. “Bad breakup?” the clerk asked.

Hadn’t we said no kissing in the house? Not that the rule had stopped us from kissing in the game room last night after we’d finished our ice cream. “I’m still craving the flavor of chocolate chip cookie dough,” he’d said. So of course, I’d let him sample. But it had been . . . stressful. Because every time the house creaked, we were looking at the French doors expecting to see Dad standing there with a baseball bat in hand.

Stirring the pastry cream and putting it in the blast chiller in the island, a total chefly indulgence that I have never once regretted. The house filling with the scent of rich, dark chocolate as the cakes rise in the oven. The treat of the moist trimmings as I even up the layers before spreading the thick custard filling between them. The fudgy frosting smoothed perfectly over the whole thing, and then immediately marred with chocolate cookie crumbs.

knew how I felt, and he let me love him. He wanted me to. He stepped closer to me. “One minute you like me. Then Cam…” Conrad paused. “And then Jeremiah. Isn’t that right? You want to have your cake and eat it too, but you also want your cookies, and your ice cream…” “Shut up!” I yelled. “You’re the one who’s been playing games, Belly.” He was trying to sound casual, offhand, but his body was tense, like every muscle was as tight as his stupid guitar strings.

Maybe we’re feeling left out or defective, ashamed or insecure. The feelings get too big and … for many of us, the fix is to binge on treasure troves of sugar and fat: pizza, ice cream, cookies, cheese, chocolate. For a little while, the chemical relief numbs out the hurt. Hurt? Worry? It’s all shoved deep down beneath layers of chips or donuts. Hidden. Out of sight and out of mind. Until the chemical buzz begins to wear off … and it turns out that the feelings never went away. They’re still here. And worse, now there’s self-loathing and shame to add to the mix. So we punish ourselves … until the hurt gets too big, and the cycle starts again. For those of us who starve ourselves, the story isn’t much different. We’re still trying to escape overwhelming feelings—of being a fraud, not good enough, unworthy, a failure. Instead of indulging in cover-up chaos, undereaters (like I was) discover relief—even a sense of power—in artificial control.

The clock in the kitchen chimed and Anna looked up. The first batch of cookies would be ready any moment; then it would be time to put it in another tray. After that, there were four different types of bread, krumkaker (she wouldn't fill them with cream in this heat), and at least two spice cakes to make. Her mother hated the idea of her baking cakes that might not sell ("The ingredients cost money"), but Anna knew people would want them, and they made a tidy profit off cakes. It was a win-win.

Jaclyn’s Snickerdoodle Recipe Ingredients: 1-1/2 cups sugar 1/2 cup BUTTER, softened 1 teaspoon pure vanilla 2 eggs 2-3/4 cups flour 1 teaspoon cream of tartar 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons sugar 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon AND a secret ingredient! 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (cookies are good without the nutmeg, but sooo good with it) Instructions: Heat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Combine first four ingredients and mix well In separate bowl combine flour, cream of tartar, and baking soda. Then mix into creamed mixture. Blend well to avoid flour clumps! Shape dough into 1-inch balls. Combine the 2 tablespoons sugar with the cinnamon and nutmeg. Roll each dough ball in the sugar mixture and place on a cookie sheet, leaving about 2 inches between cookies. Bake approximately 10 minutes. Remove from cookie sheet immediately and allow to cool. ENJOY warm or allow to cool. Serve with cold milk or hot beverage of your choice. These keep best in the refrigerator if they last more than a few minutes!!

Hoping to ground herself, Rosie closed her eyes and thought of butter, the way other people probably pictured relaxing tropical idylls. Her favorite thing in the world was creaming butter and sugar, watching the way two disparate ingredients come together to form something new. She could picture it in her mind, back in the kitchen at home: the soft pale yellow of the butter, the old wooden spoon, and the cracked brown mixing bowl. Butter was magic. The starting point for cookies and cake and pie and muffins and everything good.

Mom’s Spritz Cookies 2 sticks salted butter, room temperature ½ cup granulated sugar ½ tsp. almond extract ½ tsp. vanilla 1 egg yolk 2 cups flour Preheat oven to 350°F. Cream butter and sugar together thoroughly. Add the almond and vanilla extracts, egg yolk, and flour. Mix with clean hands and roll into a log for the cookie press. You can fit about 28 cookies on an ungreased sheet. Bake for 9 to 10 minutes or until very lightly browned. Allow to cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire cooling rack. Enjoy!

ESTHER’S RECIPE FOR BOYFRIEND COOKIES Ingredients: 1 cup butter, softened ¾ cup granulated sugar ¾ cup brown sugar, packed 3 eggs 1 teaspoon vanilla ¼ cup whole wheat flour ¼ cup soy flour 3½ cups quick-cooking oatmeal 1½ cups salted peanuts, coarsely chopped 1 cup carob chips Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and sugars. Add eggs and vanilla, beating until fluffy. Sift flours and add to creamed mixture. Fold in oatmeal, peanuts, and carob chips. Drop by teaspoon 2 inches apart on greased baking sheet and bake 8 to 10 minutes. Yield: 7 to 8 dozen cookies.

Loaded Bread Dip 1 1⁄2 cups mayonnaise 1 1⁄2 cups sour cream 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese 1⁄2 onion, diced 1 clove garlic, mashed 1 cup cooked, crumbled bacon 3 cups shredded cheddar cheese 1 round loaf artisan bread* Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, combine all ingredients except the bread. Hollow out a round loaf of artisan bread, reserving the bread removed from the center. Spoon the dip into the bread and bake on a cookie sheet for 40 minutes. When done, use the bread you removed to eat the dip. Serves 4. *Use smaller rounds of bread for individual dips.

Somehow Jason and I ended up on the very last seat. Maybe everyone else was just too tired to walk that far. Jason put his arm around me and drew me up against his side. Once the coach called the roster and everyone was accounted for, we headed home. It was really dark on the bus. It didn’t seem as windy. Maybe because Jason was holding me close. Then he kissed me. A really long, slow, deep kiss. A kiss that made me see fireworks. When he pulled back, I could see him grinning, even in the darkness. “I love the flavor of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.” “You know where you can always get a taste,” I said. He kissed me again.

After some experimentation, we put hot water in a measuring cup and dissolved the honeysuckle nectar by swirling the stems around. When we were done with all the flowers, I tasted the golden liquid; it was sweet and fragrant. There wasn't much of the solution, though- we'd have to make a very small batch if we wanted the honeysuckle to be noticeable. We measured out the dry ingredients and Vik whisked in a pinch of ground cloves while I creamed the butter with the sugar, and then added honey. We poured in the honeysuckle nectar and combined everything. Vik and I tasted the dough: it was sweet and spicy, the flavors in perfect harmony.

I heard a shower go on, a distant shower, not in the bathroom next to my room, but in the one across the hall, which meant it was Jason. He’d taken at least one shower, usually two a day in that bathroom. So why was I suddenly freaked out by the thought of him in the shower? Naked? Oh, gosh, this was insane. What if he opened the door to my bedroom? What if he came inside? What if he wanted to give me a good-morning kiss? Okay, that was so not going to happen. Hadn’t we said no kissing in the house? Not that the rule had stopped us from kissing in the game room last night after we’d finished our ice cream. “I’m still craving the flavor of chocolate chip cookie dough,” he’d said. So of course, I’d let him sample.

Peacekeeper Christmas Spice Cookies 225g butter, softened 200g sugar 235ml molasses 1 egg 2 tbsp. sour cream 750g all-purpose flour 2 tbsp. baking powder 5g baking soda 1 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 tsp. ground ginger pinch salt 145g chopped walnuts 145g golden raisins 145g chopped dates In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together. Add the molasses, egg and sour cream; mix well. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger and salt; gradually add to creamed mixture. Stir in walnuts, raisins and dates. Chill for 2 hours or until easy to handle. On a floured surface, roll out dough finely. Cut with a 21/2-inch round cookie cutter. Place on greased baking sheets. Bake at 325°F for 12–15 minutes. Cool completely.

Marie Antoinette would have loved this place!" Piper Donovan stood agape, her green eyes opened wide, as she took in the magical space. Crystal chandeliers, dripping with glittering prisms, hung from the mirrored ceiling. Gilded moldings crowned the pale pink walls. Gleaming glass cases displayed vibrant fruit tarts, puffy éclairs, and powdered beignets. Exquisitely decorated cakes of all flavors and sizes rested on pedestals alongside trays of pastel meringues and luscious napoleons. Cupcakes, cookies, croissants, and cream-filled pastries dusted with sugar or drizzled with chocolate beckoned from the shelves. "It's unbelievable," she whispered. "I feel like I've walked into a jewel box---one made of confectioners' sugar but a jewel box nonetheless.

There are food stations around the room, each representing one of the main characters. The Black Widow station is all Russian themed, with a carved ice sculpture that delivers vodka into molded ice shot glasses, buckwheat blini with smoked salmon and caviar, borsht bite skewers, minipita sandwiches filled with grilled Russian sausages, onion salad, and a sour cream sauce. The Captain America station is, naturally, all-American, with cheeseburger sliders, miniwaffles topped with a fried chicken tender and drizzled with Tabasco honey butter, paper cones of French fries, mini-Chicago hot dogs, a mac 'n' cheese bar, and pickled watermelon skewers. The Hulk station is all about duality and green. Green and white tortellini, one filled with cheese, the other with spicy sausage, skewered with artichoke hearts with a brilliant green pesto for dipping. Flatbreads cooked with olive oil and herbs and Parmesan, topped with an arugula salad in a lemon vinaigrette. Mini-espresso cups filled with hot sweet pea soup topped with cold sour cream and chervil. And the dessert buffet is inspired by Loki, the villain of the piece, and Norse god of mischief. There are plenty of dessert options, many of the usual suspects, mini-creme brûlée, eight different cookies, small tarts. But here and there are mischievous and whimsical touches. Rice Krispies treats sprinkled with Pop Rocks for a shocking dining experience. One-bite brownies that have a molten chocolate center that explodes in the mouth. Rice pudding "sushi" topped with Swedish Fish.

Turning humans into space colonizers is his stated life’s purpose. “I would like to die thinking that humanity has a bright future,” he said. “If we can solve sustainable energy and be well on our way to becoming a multiplanetary species with a self-sustaining civilization on another planet—to cope with a worst-case scenario happening and extinguishing human consciousness—then,” and here he paused for a moment, “I think that would be really good.” If some of the things that Musk says and does sound absurd, that’s because on one level they very much are. On this occasion, for example, Musk’s assistant had just handed him some cookies-and-cream ice cream with sprinkles on top, and he then talked earnestly about saving humanity while a blotch of the dessert hung from his lower lip.

The grunt pulled his collar up around his neck. “Butterfinger.” “Yeah.” Queho nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Butterfinger. Good one. I liked that one. I always got the candy stuck between my teeth. Same with the Heath Bar.” He picked at his teeth with his finger. “Not worth the effort.” The grunt kept pace with Queho. The caravan was traveling more like an amorphous pack. The town’s wide streets accommodated the disorganization as the posse clopped along. Queho was so preoccupied with Dairy Queen, he didn’t notice. “I always got the chocolate chip cookie dough,” Queho said, licking his lips. “Oh, that was good. And remember? They’d hold it upside down?” He held out his hand to pantomime a Dairy Queen clerk holding a cup of ice cream upside down. “That way you knew how thick they made it.” The

By the time Herman appears at six thirty, I've done a double batch of my version of an upgraded pinwheel, making a homemade honey oat graham cookie base, a piped swirl of soft vanilla honey marshmallow cream, and a covering of dark chocolate mixed with tiny, crunchy Japanese rice pearls. I've made a test batch of a riff on a Nutter Butter, two thin, crisp peanut butter cookies with a layer of peanut butter cream sandwiched between them. My dad always loved Nutter Butters; he could sit in his office for hours working on briefs, eating them one after another. I figured he would be my best taster, so might as well try them and bring some with me later today. And I've just pulled a new brownie out of the oven: a deep, dark chocolate base with a praline pecan topping, sort of a marriage of brownie and that crispy top layer of a good pecan pie.

Sarah's first introduction was the signature sugardoodle. Big, billowy, and buttery, sparkling with a generous coating of sugar crystals and cinnamon, it has the perfect savory-sweet balance that comes from creamed butter and sugar. When she created it, the bakery's cookie menu was dominated by chocolaty options. She was looking to add something with a different flavor profile. Then, for the 2013 holiday season, she was playing with recipe ideas that would evoke nostalgia and home baking and struck upon the ginger spice cookie, a soft, sweet molasses number with the bite of ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It was so popular it stuck around beyond the holidays and became a year-round best seller. Then came the killer red velvet. Rich from cocoa, savory from a cream-cheese center, and crunchy from its sugar-dusted top, it gives red velvet lovers a whole new creation to die for.

Kenza’s Recipe for Ghoribas: (Makes about 50 small cookies) 2 eggs plus 1 separated egg ½ a tea glass of sugar ½ a tea glass of melted butter 3 large spoonfuls of honey 4 tea glasses of flour (Sift the flour with 1 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda and 1 teaspoon of cream of tartar) A pinch of salt Zest of an orange In a big mixing bowl beat together the 2 eggs plus the white of the separated egg (keep the yolk aside for later) and the sugar. Add the butter, honey and orange zest and beat some more. Then carefully mix in the sifted flour until the cookie dough comes together, soft enough to be rolled into little balls between your hands. Put the balls of dough on to a buttered tray and brush with the beaten egg yolk. Bake in the oven for 10–15 minutes. Josie’s Journal – Tuesday 29th April, 1941 Maman had organised a meeting at our house this morning for ladies who were interested in supporting the work of the Committee for Assistance of Foreign Refugees.

What kind of dog do you want?” Peter asks her. “Don’t get her hopes up,” I tell him, but he waves me off. Immediately Kitty says, “An Akita. Red fur with a cinnamon-bun tail. Or a German shepherd I can train to be a seeing-eye dog.” “But you’re not blind,” Peter says. “But I could be one day.” Grinning, Peter shakes his head. He nudges me again and in an admiring voice he says, “Can’t argue with the kid." “It’s pretty much futile,” I agree. I hold up a magazine to show Kitty. “What do you think? Creamsicle cookies?” Kitty writes them down as a maybe. “Hey, what about these?” Peter pushes a cookbook in my lap. It’s opened up to a fruitcake cookie recipe. I gag. “Are you kidding? You’re kidding, right? Fruitcake cookies? That’s disgusting.” “When done right, fruitcake can be really good,” Peter defends. “My great-aunt Trish used to make fruitcake, and she’d put ice cream on top and it was awesome.” “If you put ice cream on anything, it’s good,” Kitty says. “Can’t argue with the kid,” I say, and Peter and I exchange smiles over Kitty’s head.

BONNIE BROWNIE COOKIE BARS Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.   4 one-ounce squares semi-sweet chocolate (or 3/4 cup chocolate chips) 3/4 cup butter (one and a half sticks) 1½ cups white (granulated) sugar 3 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) 1/2 cup chopped cashews 1/2 cup chopped butterscotch chips 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli)   Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan by lining it with a piece of foil large enough to flap over the sides. Spray the foil-lined pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.   Microwave the chocolate squares and butter in a microwave-safe mixing bowl on HIGH for 1 minute. Stir. (Since chocolate frequently maintains its shape even when melted, you have to stir to make sure.) If it’s not melted, microwave for an additional 20 seconds and stir again. Repeat if necessary.   Stir the sugar into the chocolate mixture. Feel the bowl. If it’s not so hot it’ll cook the eggs, add them now, stirring thoroughly. Mix in the vanilla extract.   Mix in the flour, and stir just until it’s moistened.   Put the cashews, butterscotch chips, and chocolate chips in the bowl of a food processor, and chop them together with the steel blade. (If you don’t have a food processor, you don’t have to buy one for this recipe—just chop everything up as well as you can with a sharp knife.)   Mix in the chopped ingredients, give a final stir by hand, and spread the batter out in your prepared pan. Smooth the top with a rubber spatula.   Bake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes.   Cool the Bonnie Brownie Cookie Bars in the pan on a metal rack. When they’re thoroughly cool, grasp the edges of the foil and lift the brownies out of the pan. Place them facedown on a cutting board, peel the foil off the back, and cut them into brownie-sized pieces.   Place the squares on a plate and dust lightly with powdered sugar if you wish.   Hannah’s Note: If you’re a chocoholic, or if you’re making these for Mother, frost them with Neverfail Fudge Frosting before you cut them.

She pulls from a shelf certain rare spices and sugars that her successor is unlikely to use. Insulating the jars with softbound books and sheafs of cooking notes, she packs them in a carton that came to this kitchen holding boxes of Italian pasta. She examines the fanciful designs on a container of sugar imported from Turkey, a favorite finish for the surface of cookies: bearclaws, butter wafers. The large, faceted granules glitter like bluish rhinestones; children always choose those cookies first. She wonders if she will be able to get this sugar anymore, if borders will tighten so austerely that she will lose some of her most precious, treasured ingredients: the best dried lavender and mascarpone, pomegranate molasses. But in the scheme of things, does it matter? She comes upon her collection of vinegars, which she uses to brighten the character of certain cakes, to hold the line between sweet and cloying. She takes down a spicy vinegar she bought at a nearby farm; inside the bottle, purple peppers, like sleeping bats, hang from the surface of the liquid. Greenie used it in a dark chocolate ice cream and molasses pie.

The most obvious difference between Japanese and American ice cream bars is that if the Japanese bar promises something crispy, it will damn well be crispy. The Haagen-Dazs Crispy Sandwich, for example, is a slim bar of ice cream between two delicate wafers. How do they keep the wafers from getting soggy? Is it a layer of shellac? Maybe it's best not to ask. Crepes, soft but not mushy, are also a frequent player in ice cream bars. Near the end of the month I discovered my single favorite ice cream treat, the Black Thunder bar, a chocolate ice cream bar on a stick filled with crunchy chocolate cookie chunks. I also tried its sister product, the vanilla White Thunder, but in the immortal words of Wesley Snipes:always bet on Black Thunder. Iris and I also became mildly obsessed with Zachrich, a triangular Choco Taco-like bar that looked like a run-over sugar cone, coated with chocolate on the inside and filled with mint ice cream. And Iris often selected Coolish, a foil canteen of soft-serve that you warm with your hands until it's just melted enough to suck out through the spout. (All of these names, incidentally, are in English; I'm not translating them).

And yeah, put out as I can be with Mama 'bout a lotta things, I gotta admit she gets all the credit for getting me interested in cooking when I was just knee-high to a grasshopper. Gladys never seemed to give a damn about it when we were kids, which I guess is why she and that family of hers nourish themselves today mainly on KFC and Whoppers and junk like that. But me, I couldn't keep my eyes off Mama when she'd fix a mess of short ribs, or cut out perfect rounds of buttermilk biscuit dough with a juice glass, or spread a thick, real shiny caramel icing over her 1-2-3-4 cakes. And I can remember like it was yesterday (must have been about 4 years old at the time) when she first let me help her bake cookies, especially the same jelly treats I still make today and could eat by the dozen if I didn't now have better control. "Honey, start opening those jars on the counter," she said while she creamed butter and sugar with her Sunbeam electric hand mixer in the same wide, chipped bowl she used to make for biscuit dough. Strawberry, peach, and mint- the flavors never varied for Mama's jelly treats, and just the idea of making these cookies with anything but jelly and jam she'd put up herself the year before would have been inconceivable to Mama.

David Chang, who had become the darling of the New York restaurant world, thanks to his Momofuku noodle and ssäm bars in the East Village, opened his third outpost, Momofuku Milk Bar, just around the corner from my apartment. While everyone in the city was clamoring for the restaurants' bowls of brisket ramen and platters of pig butt, his pastry chef, Christina Tosi, was cooking up "crack pie," an insane and outrageous addictive concoction made largely of white sugar, brown sugar, and powdered sugar, with egg yolks, heavy cream, and lots of butter, all baked in an oat cookie crust. People were going nuts for the stuff, and it was time for me to give this crack pie a shot. But as soon as I walked into the industrial-style bakery, I knew crack could have nothing on the cookies. Blueberry and cream. Double chocolate. Peanut butter. Corn. (Yes, a corn cookie, and it was delicious). There was a giant compost cookie, chock-full of pretzels, chips, coffee grounds, butterscotch, oats, and chocolate chips. But the real knockout was the cornflake, marshmallow, and chocolate chip cookie. It was sticky, chewy, and crunchy at once, sweet and chocolaty, the ever-important bottom side rimmed in caramelized beauty. I love rice crisps in my chocolate, but who would have thought that cornflakes in my cookies could also cause such rapture?

Pumpkin Sugar Cookies Sugar Cookies just got better with a little pumpkin! This recipe creates soft, chewy, lightly spicy glazed pumpkin sugar cookies that are perfect for Fall! Ingredients: 1/2 cup softened butter 1/2 cup vegetable oil 1/2 cup pumpkin puree {canned pumpkin} 1 cup granulated sugar 1/2 cup powdered sugar 1/2 teaspoon vanilla 2 large eggs 4 cups all purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg For the glaze topping: 3 cups powdered sugar 4 tablespoons water 1/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice Instructions Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or silicone baking mat and set aside. In a large bowl, stir butter, oil, pumpkin, sugars, vanilla and eggs together until incorporated and smooth. Slowly mix in all dry ingredients until completely incorporated. Scoop onto prepared baking sheet using 1 1/2 tablespoon scoop and flatten to 1/2 inch thick using the bottom of a glass. If the dough is sticking to the glass, press the bottom of the glass in granulated sugar before flattening. Bake 8-9 minutes. While cookies bake, stir all ingredients together for glaze until smooth. Once cookies are finished baking, cool 3 minutes on baking sheet before transferring to cooling rack. Spread 1 1/2 teaspoons glaze over each warm cookie. Let glaze harden 2-3 hours before serving. OR eat them warm with lots of runny glaze.

Rachael Ray was in the middle of making small lemon bars, which reminded me almost immediately of a new recipe for lemon drop cookies I'd been wanting to try and maybe serve at an upcoming children's birthday party I had scheduled. Like I say, cooking can be like therapy for me when I'm real upset, and no sooner had I grabbed a bag of lemon drop candy in the cabinet, wrapped the nuggets in a towel, and begun beating them to bits with a hammer than I calmed down and concentrated on making the batter just right. Butter, sugar, grated lemon rind, heavy cream, an egg, flour baking powder and salt, the crushed candy- the ingredients couldn't have been simpler. What I wondered about was whether the candy would melt during the baking, and I got my answer after the cookies had been in the oven about twelve minutes, and I finally bit into a cooled one, and noticed a slight crunch that was one of the most wonderful sensations I'd ever experienced. Yeah, the cookies were out of this world, and I knew the kids would love 'em, but since I personally like most of my cookies to be kinda chewy, I did decide then and there that the next time I baked a batch, I'd test the texture after only ten minutes of baking- or till just the edges of the cookies browned. I also decided these cookies could give Miss Rachael Ray's lemon bars a good run for their money, and that they should have me on that program doing something a little different. I mean, anybody can make ordinary lemon bars.

sighed. “I can’t say that you weren’t expected.” “I’m just going to be walking around here and taking some measurements. It says here… you own eighty acres? That is one of the most gorgeous mansions I have ever seen,” he rambled on. “It must have cost you millions. I could never afford such a beauty. Well, heck, for that matter I couldn’t afford the millions of dollars in taxes a house like this would assess, let alone such a pricey property. Do you have an accountant?” Zo opened her mouth to respond, but he continued, “For an estate this size, I would definitely have one.” “I do have an accountant,” she cut in, with frustration. “Furthermore, I have invested a lot of money bringing this mansion up to speed. You can see my investment is great.” “Of course, it would be. The fact of the matter is, Mrs. Kane, a lot of people are in over their heads in property. You still have to pay up, or we take the place. Well, I’ll get busy now. Pay no mind to me.” He walked on, taking notes. “Clairrrrre!” Zo called as soon as she entered the house. “Bring your cell phone!” Two worry-filled months went by and many calls were made to lawyers, before Zoey finally picked one that made her feel confident. And then the letter came with the totals and the due date. “There is no way we can pay this, Mom, even if we sold off some of our treasures, because a lot of them are contracted to museums anyway. I am feeling awfully poor all of a sudden, and insecure.” “Yes, and I did some research, thinking I’d be forced to sell. It’s unlikely that anyone else around here can afford this place. It looks like they are going to get it all; they aren’t just charging for this year. What we have here is a value about equal to a little country. And all the new construction sites for housing developments suddenly popping up on this side of the river, does not help. Value is going up.” Zo put her head in her hands. “Ohhh, oh, oh, oh!” “Yeah, bring out the ice-cream and cake. I need comforting,” sighed Claire. The cell phone rang. “Yes, tonight? You guys have become pretty good to us, haven’t you?! You know, Bob, Mom and I thought we were just going to pig out on ice cream and cake. We found out we are losing this estate and are going to be poor again and we are bummed out.” There was a long pause. “No, that’s okay, I understand. Yeah, okay, bye.” “Well?” Zo ask dryly. “He was appropriately sorry, and he got off the phone fast, saying he remembered he had other business to take care of. Do you want to cry? I do…” “I’ll get the cake and dish the ice cream. You make our tea and we’ll cry together.” A pitter patter began to drum on the window. “Rain again. It seems softer though, dear.” “I thought you said this was going to be a softer rain!” It started to pour. “At least this is not a thunder storm… What was that?” “Thunder,” replied Claire, unmoved and resigned. An hour had gone by when there was a rapping at the door. “People rarely use the doorbell, ever notice that?” Zo asked on the way to the door. She opened it to reveal two wet guys holding a pizza, salad, soft drink, and giant chocolate chip cookies in a plastic container. In a plastic

Blues Elizabeth Alexander, 1962 I am lazy, the laziest girl in the world. I sleep during the day when I want to, ‘til my face is creased and swollen, ‘til my lips are dry and hot. I eat as I please: cookies and milk after lunch, butter and sour cream on my baked potato, foods that slothful people eat, that turn yellow and opaque beneath the skin. Sometimes come dinnertime Sunday I am still in my nightgown, the one with the lace trim listing because I have not mended it. Many days I do not exercise, only consider it, then rub my curdy belly and lie down. Even my poems are lazy. I use syllabics instead of iambs, prefer slant to the gong of full rhyme, write briefly while others go for pages. And yesterday, for example, I did not work at all! I got in my car and I drove to factory outlet stores, purchased stockings and panties and socks with my father’s money. To think, in childhood I missed only one day of school per year. I went to ballet class four days a week at four-forty-five and on Saturdays, beginning always with plie, ending with curtsy. To think, I knew only industry, the industry of my race and of immigrants, the radio tuned always to the station that said, Line up your summer job months in advance. Work hard and do not shame your family, who worked hard to give you what you have. There is no sin but sloth. Burn to a wick and keep moving. I avoided sleep for years, up at night replaying evening news stories about nearby jailbreaks, fat people who ate fried chicken and woke up dead. In sleep I am looking for poems in the shape of open V’s of birds flying in formation, or open arms saying, I forgive you, all.

Spinach Quiche Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position   This is my recipe. It can be served as an appetizer if you cut it into thin slices and arrange them on a platter. It can also be served as an entrée.   One 9-inch unbaked pastry shell 1 beaten egg yolk (reserve the white in a small dish) 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach ½ teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon pepper (freshly ground is best) 3 Tablespoons horseradish sauce 2 ounces shredded Jarlsberg (or good Swiss cheese) 4 eggs 1½ cups Half & Half (or light cream) 1/8 teaspoon salt 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg (freshly ground is best)   Beat the egg yolk in a glass with a fork. Brush the inside of the unbaked pastry shell with the yolk. Set the shell aside to dry. Cook and drain the spinach. Squeeze out as much moisture as you can and then blot with a paper towel. In a bowl, combine the spinach with the salt, pepper, and horseradish sauce. Spread it in the bottom of the pastry shell. Sprinkle the top with the grated cheese. Beat the 4 whole eggs with the reserved egg white. Add the Half & Half, salt, and cayenne pepper. Mix well and pour on top of cheese. Sprinkle the top with nutmeg. Bake at 375 degrees F. for 40 minutes, or until a knife inserted one inch from the center comes out clean. Let cool for ten minutes and then cut into wedges and serve. This quiche can be served warm or at room temperature. I’ve even been known to eat it cold, straight out of the refrigerator. It’s perfect for a fancy brunch or a lazy, relaxed breakfast on the weekend. Yield: Serves from 12 to 18 as an appetizer. Serves six as an entrée if they only have one piece.

Mondays are for baklava, which she learned to make by watching her parents. Her mother said that a baklava-maker should have sensitive, supple hands, so she was in charge of opening and unpeeling the paper-thin layers of dough and placing them in a stack in the tray. Her father was in charge of pastry-brushing each layer of dough with a coat of drawn butter. It was systematic yet graceful: her mother carefully unpeeling each layer and placing them in the tray where Sirine's father painted them. It was important to move quickly so that the unbuttered layers didn't dry out and start to fall apart. This was one of the ways that Sirine learned how her parents loved each other- their concerted movements like a dance; they swam together through the round arcs of her mother's arms and her father's tender strokes. Sirine was proud when they let her paint a layer, prouder when she was able to pick up one of the translucent sheets and transport it to the tray- light as raw silk, fragile as a veil. On Tuesday morning, however, Sirine has overslept. She's late to work and won't have enough time to finish preparing the baklava before starting breakfast. She could skip a day of the desserts and serve the customers ice cream and figs or coconut cookies and butter cake from the Iranian Shusha Bakery two doors down. But the baklava is important- it cheers the students up. They close their eyes when they bite into its crackling layers, all lightness and scent of orange blossoms. And Sirine feels unsettled when she tries to begin breakfast without preparing the baklava first; she can't find her place in things. So finally she shoves the breakfast ingredients aside and pulls out the baklava tray with no idea of how she'll find the time to finish it, just thinking: sugar, cinnamon, chopped walnuts, clarified butter, filo dough....

CRANBERRY SCONES Preheat oven to 425 degrees F., rack in the middle position. 3 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) 2 Tablespoons white (granulated) sugar 2 teaspoons cream of tartar (important) 1 teaspoon baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda ½ teaspoon salt ½ cup softened salted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) 2 large eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork) 1 cup unflavored yogurt (8 ounces) 1 cup sweetened dried cranberries (Craisins, or their equivalent) ½ cup whole milk Use a medium-size mixing bowl to combine the flour, sugar, cream of tartar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Stir them all up together. Cut in the salted butter just as you would for piecrust dough.   Hannah’s Note: If you have a food processor, you can use it for the first step. Cut ½ cup COLD salted butter into 8 chunks. Layer them with the dry ingredients in the bowl of the food processor. Process with the steel blade until the mixture has the texture of cornmeal. Transfer the mixture to a medium-sized mixing bowl and proceed to the second step.   Stir in the beaten eggs and the unflavored yogurt. Then add the sweetened dried cranberries and mix everything up together.   Add the milk and stir until everything is combined.   Drop the scones by soup spoonfuls onto a greased (or sprayed with Pam or another nonstick baking spray) baking sheet, 12 large scones to a sheet. You can also drop these scones on parchment paper if you prefer.   Once the scones are on the baking sheet, you can wet your fingers and shape them into more perfect rounds. (If you do this and there are any leftovers, you can slice them in half and toast them for breakfast the next morning.)   Bake the scones at 425 degrees F. for 12 to 14 minutes, or until they’re golden brown on top.   Cool the scones for at least five minutes on the cookie sheet, and then remove them with a spatula. Serve them in a towel-lined basket so they stay warm.   Yield: Makes 12 large and delicious scones.

SNAPPY TURTLE PIE   1 chocolate cookie crumb pie shell (chocolate is best, but shortbread or graham cracker will also work just fine) 1 pint vanilla ice cream 4 ounces ( of a 6-ounce jar) caramel ice cream topping (I used Smucker’s) ½ cup salted pecan pieces 4 ounces ( of a 6-ounce jar) chocolate fudge ice cream topping (I used Smucker’s) 1 small container frozen Cool Whip (original, not low-fat, or real whipped cream) Hannah’s Note: If you can’t find salted pecans, buy plain pecans. Measure out ½ cup of pieces, heat them in the microwave or the oven until they’re hot and then toss them with 2 Tablespoons of melted, salted butter. Sprinkle on ¼ teaspoon of salt, toss again, and you have salted pecan pieces. Set your cookie crumb pie shell on the counter along with your ice cream carton. Let the ice cream soften for 5 to 10 minutes. You want it approximately the consistency of soft-serve. Using a rubber spatula, spread out your ice cream in the bottom of the chocolate cookie crumb crust. Smooth the top with the spatula. Working quickly, pour the caramel topping over the ice cream. You can drizzle it, pour it, whatever. Just try to get it as evenly distributed as you can. Sprinkle the salted pecan pieces on top of the caramel layer. Pour or drizzle the chocolate fudge topping over the pecans. Cover the top of your pie with wax paper (don’t push it down—you don’t want it to stick) and put your Snappy Turtle Pie in the freezer overnight. Put your container of Cool Whip in the refrigerator overnight. Then it’ll be spreadable in the morning. In the morning, remove your pie from the freezer and spread Cool Whip over the top. Cover it with wax paper again and stick it back into the freezer for at least 6 hours. If you’re not planning to serve your pie for dinner that night, wait until the 6 hours are up and then put it into a freezer bag and return it to the freezer for storage. It will be fine for about a month. Take your Snappy Turtle Pie out of the freezer and place it on the countertop about 15 minutes before you’re ready to serve it. When it’s time for dessert, cut it into 6 pieces as you would a regular pie, put each piece on a dessert plate, and place one Snappy Turtle Cookie (recipe follows) on the center of each piece, the head of the turtle facing the tip of the pie. Yield: 6 slices of yummy ice cream pie that all of your guests will ooh and ahh over.

225 g butter, at room temperature [16 tablespoons (2 sticks)] 250 g granulated sugar [1¼ cups] 150 g light brown sugar [¼ cup tightly packed] 1 egg 2 g vanilla extract [½ teaspoon] 240 g flour [1½ cups] 2 g baking powder [½ teaspoon] 1.5 g baking soda [¼ teaspoon] 5 g kosher salt [1¼ teaspoons] ¾ recipe Cornflake Crunch [270 g (3 cups)] 125 g mini chocolate chips [¼ cup] 65 g mini marshmallows [1¼ cups] 1. Combine the butter and sugars in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and cream together on medium-high for 2 to 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the egg and vanilla, and beat for 7 to 8 minutes. (See notes on this process.) 2. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Mix just until the dough comes together, no longer than 1 minute. (Do not walk away from the machine during this step, or you will risk overmixing the dough.) Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula. 3. Still on low speed, paddle in the cornflake crunch and mini chocolate chips just until they’re incorporated, no more than 30 to 45 seconds. Paddle in the mini marshmallows just until incorporated. 4. Using a 2¾-ounce ice cream scoop (or a ⅓-cup measure), portion out the dough onto a parchment-lined sheet pan. Pat the tops of the cookie dough domes flat. Wrap the sheet pan tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to 1 week. Do not bake your cookies from room temperature—they will not hold their shape. 5. Heat the oven to 375°F. 6. Arrange the chilled dough a minimum of 4 inches apart on parchment- or Silpat-lined sheet pans. Bake for 18 minutes. The cookies will puff, crackle, and spread. At the 18-minute mark, the cookies should be

There were mini Vienna hot dogs with all the classic Chicago toppings. A macaroni 'n' cheese bar with all kinds of fun add-ins. Cold sesame noodles in tiny white cardboard Chinese take-out containers, sliders served with small cones of skinny fries. Fried chicken legs, barbecued ribs, mini gyros in tiny three-inch pitas. All of it the most delicious and perfectly prepared elevated junk food, complete heaven, and just what I love. She gave us each a bamboo tray with a piece of parchment paper on it to use as plates, and large kitchen tea towels instead of napkins. There were cold beers in a tub, endless bottles of rosé, and a massive birthday cake, chocolate with fluffy vanilla frosting, and rainbow sprinkles. And then, after coffee, mini ice-cream sandwiches on chocolate chip cookies.

In many cases, those at this level are not hungry for breakfast, but they get ravenous in the evening and end up bingeing on salty or sweet foods like chips, ice cream, cookies, or pretzels.

Raven has always been nice, in the same way vanilla ice cream is nice but you’d rather have cookie dough.

Hudsonville Extra Indulgent Cookie Dough ice cream

First off, the Oreo on its own is a perfect damn cookie. No need to be throwing your hard-earned money after more fake cream. The entire cookie-to-filling ratio is so far gone on those. Oh, I’ll eat them!” she said as Sarah made a grab for the pack in Tracy’s hand. “But I won’t be happy about it.

Debbie’s Delicious Christmas Cookies Cookies – Ingredients List #1: 2-1/2 cups flour 1 cup white sugar ¼ tsp. salt 1 tsp. baking soda 2 tsp. cream of tartar *Mix dry ingredients in large bowl   Cookies – Ingredients List #2: 1 cup butter, softened 2 eggs 1 tsp. vanilla *Mix wet ingredients Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees Mix both wet and dry ingredients together. (You can also refrigerate dough so it “firms up.”) Roll cookie dough on floured surface.  Cut with cookie cutters. Place cookies on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 6 – 10 minutes (depending on thickness)  *You can add more flour if the mixture seems “doughy” Frosting ½ cup solid vegetable shortening ½ cup softened butter (not melted) 1 tsp. vanilla 4 cups powdered sugar 2 tbsp. milk food coloring Cream butter & shortening Add vanilla Slowly add sugar Add milk Beat on high until fluffy.  (This recipe will test your mixer.  I recommend using a heavy-duty mixer, but it is not required.  Just keep an eye on the mixer so it doesn’t overheat.) *You can also add a little extra milk, a tablespoon at a time. Separate frosting into bowls.  Add drops of food coloring until color desired is achieved. Frost cooled cookies.  Decorate with sprinkles, etc.

The goal of flavor creation is to reach the seven-year-old inside the forty-seven-year-old," Brian explains of their instant connection with customers. While other ice cream start-ups in the city- and there have been plenty launches since Ample Hills, including Oddfellows (2013), Morgenstern's (2014), and Ice & Vice (2015), to name a few- have found their success in offbeat flavors like avocado, extra virgin olive oil, red bean, and chorizo caramel, they aren't made in the same spirit of evoking the fun and play of childhood that Brian finds essential. It's a different brand of creativity. Even though it inevitably meant waiting in a long line, I loved being the one to go to Ample Hills to pick up a pint because it also meant sampling the flavors. Each one is sweet and creamy, über-rich, and totally original. They're loaded with so many ingredients you never tire of taste testing them. There's Ooey Gooey Butter Cake, a full-flavor vanilla that's studded with chunks of rich, dense Saint Louis-style cake; The Munchies, a salty-sweet pretzel-infused ice cream chock-full of Ritz crackers, potato chips, M&M's, and more pretzels; Nonna D's Oatmeal Lace is brown-sugar-and-cinnamon ice cream chunked with homemade oatmeal cookies; and their signature flavor, Salted Crack Caramel, which involves caramelizing large amounts of sugar on the stove top until it's nearly burnt, giving it a bitterness that distinguishes their version from all the other salted caramels out there.

You wouldn't know it by their rapid ascension to ice cream dominance, but caution has guided their way. "The goal is to build out an anti-chain chain," Brian explains, fully aware that the charm of Ample Hills is that it's small, independently owned, and has quirks that locals appreciate. Every time they add a new scoop shop, they're mindful of creating at least one flavor that's unique to that location, like It Came Out of Gowanus, "the deepest, darkest, murkiest chocolate ice cream," in Brian's words, that's chock-full of white chocolate pearls, a nod to the waterway's once-prolific bivalves; chocolatey "crack cookies" made with hazelnut paste; and Grand Marnier-laced brownies.

tsp. vanilla extract 1 c. shredded carrots 1 c. old-fashioned oats ½ c. sweetened coconut flakes ½ c. raisins For the frosting 1 oz. cream cheese at room temperature 1 c. powdered sugar 1 T. milk ¼ tsp. pure almond or vanilla extract Directions 1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Line a baking sheet with a Silpat baking mat or parchment paper, and set aside. 2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Set aside. 3. In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine coconut oil and sugars, mix until smooth. Add egg and vanilla extract, and beat until well combined. Next, add the shredded carrots and peach puree. Mix until combined. 4. Slowly add flour mixture until just combined. Stir in oats, coconut, and raisins. 5. Drop cookie dough by heaping tablespoonfuls, 2 inches apart, onto prepared baking sheet. Bake for 10–12 minutes or until

cookies are slightly golden around the edges and set. Remove cookies from pans; cool completely on wire racks. 6. While the cookies are cooling, make the cream cheese glaze. Mix together the cream cheese, powdered sugar, milk, and extract in a medium bowl. Using a spoon, drizzle the glaze over the cooled cookies. Let cookies sit until glaze hardens up. Serve!

cookies-and-cream ice

I saw myself as I’d just been captured for posterity. Little old lady with possum-gray hair falling across her face. Baja T-shirt scrunched up to expose little-old-lady midriff. Toothy shark slipper raised in elderly menace. How soon would the photo show up on the internet? Like a California-road version of those strange “Walmart People” pictures that are always popping up on Facebook. Would I be displayed between a droopy-jeans man bent over to expose a crack the size of the San Andreas fault and an oversized woman bulging out of a thong as she licked a carton of strawberry ice cream?

Mamie liked a wide selection of treats, so there were assorted macarons, a plate of butter cookies half dipped in bittersweet ganache, candied-orange-and-cardamom cakes, and, my personal favorite, a paris-brest with praline cream and raspberries.

Behind the counter, I placed the pre-sliced pumpkin cheesecake with caramel pecan topping into the refrigerated glass display case. My cheesecakes were a thing of beauty. The delicate, spicy ginger-cookie crust gave the bottom a nice firm bite at the end of the airy whipped cream-cheese filling. It boggled my mind as to why people only indulged in delicious pumpkin once a year. Not at our diner. You could get a cup of pumpkin-and-black-bean soup with lump crabmeat or shrimp, or a spiced pumpkin muffin, on certain days of the week throughout the year. We attempted to rotate our daily offerings to keep them fresh and desirable.

Mr. Pixel Ate loves Pho and Sushi and Nashville Hot Chicken and Mrs. Pixel Ate loves enchiladas. But that is likely to change on a day-by-day basis. What's your favourite ice-cream flavour? Hands down chocolate chip cookie dough for Mom. Dad says peanut butter chocolate. And always Tillamook brand.

My lola had made a few jars of her specialty, matamis na bao, or coconut jam, to spread on our pandesal and kakanin. The fragrant smell of coconut cream, caramelized sugar, and pandan leaves wafted through the room, the intoxicating aroma of the dark, sticky jam making my mouth water. I scanned the contents of the fridge, waiting for inspiration to strike. Whatever I made had to be small and snack-y, so as to complement but not draw attention from my grandmother's sweet, sticky rice cakes. Maybe some kind of cookie to go with our after-dinner tea and coffee? Coco jam sandwiched between shortbread would be great, but sandwich cookies were a little heavier and more fiddly than what I was looking for. Maybe if they were open-faced? As I thought of a way to make that work, my eyes fell on the pandan extract in the cabinet and everything clicked into place. Pandan thumbprint cookies with a dollop of coconut jam! Pandan and coconut were commonly used together, plus the buttery and lightly floral flavor of the cookies would balance well against the rich, intense sweetness of the jam.

I piled the cookies, their lovely violet color peeping through a light coating of powdered sugar, on a plate. I studied the offering, then added a small bowl of vanilla ice cream as well as a serving of my ube halaya, the purple-yam jam I'd used to create the cookies, to the dish. Perfect.

cat that got into the cream pot

cat that got into the cream pot” smiles, a

I was proud of Lucian. That much was certain. He'd come through today in a big way, creating not only two towers of croquembouche, swathed in glittering strands of angel-fine spun sugar, but also luscious ice creams paired with delicate butter cookies and mangoes to look like blooming lilies.

She liked cookies and press cake; paczki filled with cream; tarts and candies. The more sugar the better. Fruit wasn't sweet enough for her.

Ron had finished delivering dairy products to his residential customers, placing their milk, cream, and eggs in the insulated boxes the dairy provided.

cookies-’n’-cream cupcakes

ordered a bacon-cheese barbecue burger with sweet potato fries and an Oreo and a cookie-dough ice-cream milkshake. X helped by eating some of the fries.

Here are seven categories of foods that should be avoided if pain and inflammation are a major symptom of your arthritis. 1. Animal Milk Products (Milk, Cream, Ice Cream, Cheese, Cottage Cheese, Yogurt) 2. Hydrogenated oils (Non-Dairy Creamer, Crackers, Cookies, Chips, Snack Bars) 3. Nitrates (Hot Dogs, Cold Cuts, Pepperoni, Sausage, Bacon, Liverwurst) 4. Processed Sugars (Candy, Soda, Bread, Bottled Fruit Juice, Cookies, Snack Bars) 5. Nightshades (Potatoes, Peppers, Tomatoes, Eggplant, Paprika) 6. Convenience Foods (French Fries, Onion Rings, Loaded Baked Potatoes, Fatty Burgers, Mexican Food, Pizza, Calzones, Stromboli) 7. Processed White Flour Products (Flour, Bread, Pasta, Pizza, Crackers, Pretzels, Donuts) Are you surprised?

2½ cups all-purpose flour ¾ tsp baking powder 2 sticks butter 1½ tbsp sugar 1 tsp salt ¾ tsp cumin seeds ½ tsp cumin powder (optional) 2 to 2½ tbsp plain whole milk yogurt Sift the flour and baking powder. Cream the butter and sugar. Mix in the salt, cumin seeds, and cumin powder (if you like the flavor of cumin, adding the powder is recommended). Add the sifted flour to the creamed mixture. Knead into a dough, adding the yogurt as you do so. Roll the dough ⅛-inch thick. Cut into round shapes with cookie cutter. Place on a greased cookie tray and bake in a preheated oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and leave on a rack to cool. Enjoy the naan khatais with a cup of hot Indian chai.

On June 20, 1790, Hamilton sat down for a fateful meal with the two most influential Virginians other than the president: Jefferson, who hosted the meal, and Madison. (There may have been another guest or two.) While Hamilton wanted the capital in New York, he needed assumption, and was willing to trade away the former to ensure congressional approval of the latter. And so—over a decadent meal of stuffed rooster, French pot roast, and, for dessert, cookies and ice cream—these leaders brokered one of the most significant deals in American political history.

ROSEMARY SARTORI’S QUICK TARTUFO (In America, SNOWBALLS) Yield: 1 dozen tartufo 3 bags shredded coconut 1 cup heavy cream 1 gallon vanilla ice cream (softened) 12 maraschino cherries FOR CHOCOLATE DRIZZLE: 1⁄4 box paraffin wax 1 pound dark chocolate Melt paraffin wax with chocolate in a double boiler on stove until liquid. Set aside. Soak coconut in heavy cream. Set aside. Roll ice cream into baseball-sized balls. Bury maraschino cherry in center of each. Drizzle chocolate sauce on ice-cream ball, then roll in coconut until covered. Place on waxed-papered cookie sheet and freeze.

JENNA SMILED WHEN Easy walked into the bedroom, carrying what appeared to be half the refrigerator on a bowing cookie sheet. How much more sweet could he be? He glanced between her and Sara like he was unsure what to do next. Jenna pulled the covers back so the surface would be flat and patted the bed next to her. “Put it anywhere.” Easy set the makeshift tray down and rubbed a hand over his head. “I tried to think of things that would be gentle on your stomach,” he said in a low voice. “But if you want something different—” “No, this looks perfect.” Her gaze settled on a tall glass of . . . She gasped. “You made me a milk shake?” At that, Sara patted her on the knee. “Okay, I’m gonna go. Let me know if you need anything?” “Oh, uh, Shane was making you all something to eat,” Easy said. Sara smiled. “Good timing. This is making me hungry,” she said, gesturing to the tray. Jenna grabbed up the milk shake and hugged the glass against her chest. “Get your own.” Holding up her hands in surrender, Sara smiled. “All yours. Besides, Nick and Jeremy have the world’s biggest sweet tooths. There’s an endless supply of ice cream downstairs. I’m not even joking. So there’s more where that came from.” She squeezed Easy’s arm. “You know where to find me if you need me,” she said. And then they were alone. Jenna was glad. Not because having Easy here warded off her panic and fear but because she just wanted to be with him. She fished a spoon out from between two plates and took a taste of her treat. Freaking heaven. “Oh, my God,” she said, scooping another big bite. “This is so good. I can’t believe you made me a milk shake.” Even when her father had been alive, no one was really taking care of Jenna. So maybe Easy’s thoughtfulness wouldn’t have been so earthshaking to someone else, but to her, it meant everything. She peered up at him, which made her realize he was still standing. Crisscrossing her legs, she pointed at the foot of the bed. “Come sit down. Some of this has to be for you, right?” “Yeah,” Easy said. “You sure this is okay?” “It’s great, really. I can’t even remember the last time I ate, so this is like filet mignon and Maine lobster rolled into one. Seriously.” She exchanged the milk shake for the bowl of soup, and the warm, salty broth tasted every bit as good. They ate in companionable silence for a while, then he asked, “So, what are you studying in school?” “International business,” Jenna said around a spoonful of soup. “I always wanted to travel.” And, to put it more plainly, she’d always wanted to get the hell out of here. “Sounds ambitious,” Easy said. “Did you have to learn languages?” Jenna nodded. “I minored in Spanish, and I’ve taken some French, too. What I’d really like to learn is Chinese since there are so many new markets opening up there. But I’ve heard it’s really hard. Do you speak any other languages?” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Easy nodded. “Hablo español, árabe, y Dari.” Grinning, Jenna reached for her bagel. She’d thought him hard to resist just being his usual sexy, thoughtful, protective self. If he was going to throw speaking to her in a foreign language into the mix, she’d be a goner. “What is Dari?” “One of the main languages in Afghanistan,” he said. “Oh. Guess that makes sense. Are Arabic and Dari hard to learn?” “Yeah. Where I grew up in Philly, there were a lot of Hispanic kids, so Spanish was like a second language. But coming to languages as an adult about kicked my ass. Cultural training is a big part of Special Forces training, though. We’re not out there just trying to win battles, but hearts and minds, too. . .” He frowned. “Or, we were, anyway.

Gronk dancing topless was ice cream and cookies compared to this.

Flour and yolk and cream are all coarse- of the earth. But sugar and air and vanilla are elements of the firmament. Avis used to tell her kids: Sweets should be an evanescence, cakes and pies represent minutes, cookies and milles-feuilles are seconds, meringues are moments.

I look at the spread on the counter. I took Jacob's advice and went all out on the classic Southern good luck New Year's foods. In addition to my medium-rare porterhouse, there is hoppin' John over buttered Carolina gold rice, slow-cooked collard greens, corn pudding. The black-eyed peas are good luck in the Southern tradition but also in the Jewish, albeit not usually cooked with bacon the way these are. The greens are supposed to represent money, the corn represents gold. We're closing on the house this week, and I'll take whatever good luck I can find to start the New Year, hoping for a career resurrection and some personal clarity. There is a pan of three-layer slutty brownies sitting on the counter, chocolate chip cookie on the bottom, a layer of Oreos in the middle, brownie batter on top with swirls of cream cheese.

She collects a tray from the kitchen: arranges almond and mango cream puffs, brown sugar lace cookies, and miniature napoleons of vanilla and guava: fleeting breaths of pate a choux and buttercreams that dissolve in single bites.

Andrea is coming to pick me up in about thirty minutes to head to her folks' house for Thanksgiving. I've got buttery yeast rolls from Aimee's mom's old family recipe, my cranberry sauce with port and dried cherries, and a batch of spicy molasses cookies sandwiched with vanilla mascarpone frosting. I also have the makings for dried shisito peppers, which I will make there. Andrea's mom, Jasmin, is making turkey and ham, and braised broccoli and an apple pie, Andrea is doing a potato and celery root mash and a hilarious Jell-O mold that contains orange sherbet and canned mandarin oranges and mini marshmallows, and her dad, Gene, is making his mother's candied yams and sausage corn bread stuffing. Benji is cooking and serving most of the day at the group home where he grew up, and will come join us for dessert, bringing his chocolate pecan pie with bourbon whipped cream.

Kolacky Originating as a semisweet wedding dessert from Central Europe, Kolacky make a wonderful treat anytime, although many make them especially for Christmas. Here’s a modern version of a delicious recipe. Kolacky 1/2 cup butter, softened 1 (3oz) pkg. cream cheese, softened 1 1/4 cups flour 1/4 cup strawberry jam (any flavor works) 1/4 cup confectioner's sugar Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cream butter and cream cheese in a medium bowl. Beat until fluffy.  Add flour then mix well. Roll dough to 1/8 inch thickness on lightly floured surface. Traditionally, the pastry is cut into squares, but you can use a round biscuit cutter or glass if that’s what you have on hand. Place pastries two-inches apart on lightly greased cookie sheet. Spoon 1/4 tsp. jam onto each cookie. Fold opposite sides together. If you have trouble getting the sides to stick, dampen the edge with a drop of milk or water. Bake for 12 minutes. Cool completely on wire racks and sprinkle liberally with confectioner's sugar. It is nearly impossible to eat just one! Yield about 2 dozen.

PICTURE A CREAM-COLORED couch. Now visualize one brooding dark-haired sex machine (I’m assuming, but I have a strong feeling about this) sitting on one end and one golden being of near perfection on the other. Then there’s me, in the middle, literally squished between two yummy smelling men, and…I just want to escape. The pizzas have been demolished (I ate half of one myself) and now an awkward silence has descended. It doesn't help that I keep thinking of pornos and threesomes. I am honestly waiting for corny seventies music to start. I was here first. I don’t feel like I should have to be the one to move. But I’m awfully uncomfortable. There are other places to sit in the room; a recliner even. Ya know, super comfy, so comfy you can recline. So one of them could move to that. I almost think they’re enjoying this. Like, they’re having fun at my expense because they know I think they’re hot. Why did I blurt that out? “So, what’s with the name Kennedy?” Blake wonders in his deep timbre that doesn’t really sound like Graham’s, but reminds me of him all the same. I turn my head to the right, careful not to move any other body part, and meet his challenging gray eyes. He’s, like, two inches away. So close I can see green flecks in his eyes. I think he’s a little too amused by my predicament, if the upward curve of his mouth is anything to go by. One inky black eyebrow lifts as he waits. “It’s my name.” I raise a single eyebrow back. I can do that too, the look says. His smile deepens. “Yeah, but, what were your parents thinking? Kennedy? For a girl? And technically it’s a last name.” My eyes narrow. Oh, so it’s to be like that, is it? “So is Blake,” I retort and give myself an imaginary pat on the back. “And Graham,” I add triumphantly. “Leave me out of this,” Graham states from my left... “Did your parents have a thing for the Kennedys?” Two eyebrows go up this time. I get my mental pistols ready—it’s obvious there’s going to be a showdown. I straighten my spine. “What do you mean by a thing?” My, totally in this moment one hundred and forty-nine percent resented, roommate groans. He shrugs one broad shoulder. “You know. An infatuation. An unhealthy obsession. Fanaticism. A thing.” “You really shouldn’t have started this,” Graham intercedes, leaning around me to give his brother a look. My face is on fire and my hands are in tight fists in my lap. I stare at the television, which is on and no one’s paying attention to, and say very softly, “I’ll have you know, the Kennedys were, and are, an iconic family. I feel it an honor to be named after them.” Blake grunts. “Do you deny it?” I ask the TV. “Nope. I just wondered about your family.” I jerk my head around and give him a look full of venom. “We will not discuss my family.” He holds his hands up in surrender, but there's a gleam in his eyes. What is wrong with this guy? “Easy there, Ken.” I growl. Graham sighs beside me. “Don’t call me that,” I state through gritted teeth. He looks over the top of my head. “Touchy, isn’t she?” Graham’s head slumps against the back of the couch. “So, Blake,” I begin in a sweet voice, “what’s up with you and red?” I go still, holding my breath. Did I really just say that? That was so not nice. I wait with anticipation and dread. Graham stops moving on the other side of the couch. Blake stares at me, his lips parted. Then he looks at his brother. “What’s she talking about?” My about to be annihilated roomie makes a sound of dismay. I twist around to glare at him. He looks like a young boy who just had his hand caught in the cookie jar; guilty and disappointed that his fun has been halted. “Don’t say the word red, huh?” I jump to my feet and back away until both men are within my line of vision. “You know what?” They both look at me, obviously not knowing what. “This means war!

Consume rarely or never Wheat products—wheat-based breads, pasta, noodles, cookies, cakes, pies, cupcakes, breakfast cereals, pancakes, waffles, pita, couscous; rye, bulgur, triticale, kamut, barley Unhealthy oils—fried, hydrogenated, polyunsaturated (especially corn, sunflower, safflower, grapeseed, cottonseed, soybean) Gluten-free foods—specifically those made with cornstarch, rice starch, potato starch, or tapioca starch Dried fruit—figs, dates, prunes, raisins, cranberries Fried foods Sugary snacks—candies, ice cream, sherbet, fruit roll-ups, craisins, energy bars Sugary fructose-rich sweeteners—agave syrup or nectar, honey, maple syrup, high-fructose corn syrup, sucrose Sugary condiments—jellies, jams, preserves, ketchup (if contains sucrose or high-fructose corn syrup), chutney