…started out with younger kid declaring that, well, she thought about it, and, she wasn’t going to go.
What’s a mum to do when she sees 2 days before her, no school, M.Ed coursework to do, martinis to drink, and no kids to pick up, cook for, bathe, or referee?
Well, she convinces her daughter that going to camp with her school is the best idea because staying at home will involve NO TV and NO playing with mum because she has work to do.
My own mother’s voice trickled through the air all the way from another province and into my head: “Never force them to go to camp! I was forced to go to camp, and look what happened to me.” It’s a good point. Unfortunately, the 2 days of freedom before me was so enticing, I started to empathize with my grandparents, who completely destroyed my mother’s ability to be within 15 feet of a canoe, paddle, outhouse or lifejacket by forcing her to go to camp year after year.
Tears. Cajoling. Holding back from bribes. Offered a special scarf to cuddle with, and letter paper to write home if she’s lonely, and doudou, and her elephant, and a list of all the fun things she’s going to do…. FOR 2 DAYS FOR CRISSAKES!!
Off she went. I peeled her off me in the school gym and sent her away with her lip quivering and her teacher clearly thinking, “fuck”. She didn’t say that, though. What she said was, “Don’t worry dear, we have mummy’s phone number!” Then I clearly thought, “fuck”.
So – cut to now, I’m supposed to be furiously working before the phone rings and I am summoned to drive 2 hours to pick Elsie up at camp. Instead, it’s all I can do to actually wait for the butter to come to room temperature so I can make these cookies that have, by the way, been sent here by the devil.
The Devil’s emissary is SmittenKitchen.com and you should just go there to get the recipe for the Consummate Chocolate Chip Cookie, because there’s no hiding from this once you’ve seen the picture. I made these for a party last week, and became so obsessed with them I fought it off for about 5 days before I caved and made another batch. While the girls were at camp.
The original recipe has you make such insanely big cookies, even I thought it was excessive. The 100g balls of cookie dough are the size of small oranges. This time, I halved them to 50g balls and they were jes’ fine. Also, I could fit 6 on a cookie sheet instead of 4, which certainly speeds things up.
So I made the dough and you’re supposed to let it hang out in the fridge for 24 hours at least before baking. In the interest of scientific inquiry, I decided to test out what difference this step could possibly make. I made one cookie for my dinner that night. It was pretty good, but the batch I baked the next day were miles better. My scientific inquiry stopped there, but trust me: it makes a difference.
I baked 6 cookies and froze the rest into balls that Frida, with her sugar-senses, promptly discovered in the freezer. This morning when I came downstairs ,the girls were happily watching Netflix and munching on 50-gram frozen cookie balls . “But – they’re good!”, was Elsie’s stunning defence to my reprimand. Not sure she’s on the lawyer track, but I’m sure she’ll do something lovely with her life.
I haven’t posted here since I served gum and popsicles for dinner 3 years ago. My daughters are now old enough to cross the road alone.They ride bikes with gears, they have homework and they go to camp and make it through without calling home. Just pointing out: THIS is the recipe that made me come back to Stories. The devil made me do it. And if you can resist this temptation, you won’t know what you’re missing.