I had some oats and some peanut butter I wanted to finish. Instead of making different cookies, I whipped them all together in one cookie – the chocolate chip peanut butter oatmeal cookie.
You can make some too.
Recipe
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup butter
3/4 cup smooth peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs
2 cups chocolate chips
1 1/2 cup oats
Preheat the oven to 180C. Form dough into small balls and place on a baking sheet. Bake 10 to 12 minutes.
When I finally came out of hibernation and baked, I ended up making nine different things to take to my office. I had a list of more things than that but was so slow in the baking process that I was not even sure I would manage to make the nine things I did. But here is the recount and all the recipes, for those who care:
If I ever needed evidence of how cool and community-building Twitter can be, the last couple of days are a case in point. I exchanged a couple of not terribly meaningful Tweets with thinkspace (a company in the Seattle area that is a kind of office space/tech accelerator). I had heard of them but had no real reason to interact. But yesterday having crossed paths on Twitter thanks to the Mink 3D printer story making headlines in the tech world, I checked out thinkspace (awfully cool the work they’re doing in my old stomping grounds – western Washington).
But one of the coolest finds was an article in the thinkspace blog about how “baking builds community” – and this is something I can attest to – having started this blog back in 2009 or so because of my own baking obsessions and inclinations. Earlier parts of the blog are all about baking, recipes and pictures of cookies – 2014 has been almost bake-less, but somehow seeing the mention of baking mania on the thinkspace site makes me think it might be time to come out of hibernation.
Bear with me a minute – I am going to reach a point but before that will discuss a bit about the operational side of my weekly commuting life, a very impersonal and faceless grind. Each week, I spend one night and two days in Gothenburg, Sweden (where I work). Almost every week now, I stay in the same spare, no-frills hotel on the edge of the city. I don’t mind it; it is one of the least expensive options and the staff is pretty friendly. I would never go so far as to say that most Swedish companies, even those squarely in competitive consumer markets, are particularly friendly or service-oriented, but this low-end place has actually been friendlier and offered better service than I got at a lot of the city’s more upscale places.
Generally, in the year+ that I have been doing this “commute”, I have stayed in at least half of Gothenburg’s 90-ish hotels and in all parts of the city. In many cases, I have stayed in the handful of places that are actually whole apartments, which is always more comfortable for slightly longer-than-overnight stays – but they are generally expensive and impersonal, if you can actually book a flat (they are often sold out, as is almost always the case with one specific place in the city center).
This week I got an apartment that is a tiny bit off the beaten path but is nevertheless quite central – a really beautiful flat with the most personal and attentive service possible. The people running the flats (there are, I think, four or five flats there for rent) are personable and really strive to make the stay at their place fantastic. And it was. I fell in love with the apartment I stayed in (it is not one of the more spa-oriented flats that they have fashioned on the lower floor) – it was compact enough that it was not a huge amount of space but had high ceilings and skylight windows and a small loft just for sitting in natural light. It made me feel almost sad that I never found a flat just like it when I was looking to buy a flat in Gothenburg (not that I would have managed to win a bid in the cutthroat real estate market here).
The whole reason I digress and go off into this story was because I had a long conversation with the proprietress of the place – a gregarious Australian woman, and we got onto the subject of baking – my industrial-level baking habit/hobby and how I give all of it away. How it builds bridges, opens doors and of course (as she noted) probably gave me away as an American like nothing else does. Haha. I commented that Australia Day had just passed and I felt bad that I had not made any Anzac biscuits for the first time in years – and she lamented that she had not even had an Anzac biccie in 20+ years.This exchange – discussing baking – yes, just discussing, opened the door to further conversation and personalization. That really made a big difference – a human connection. And it makes me want to fire up the oven and make some cookies right now. Peanut-butter-cup-stuffed chocolate chip cookies anyone?
Baking really does build community – whether you are offering up 20 different kinds of cookies and cupcakes to the office or whether you are just discussing what you like to bake with the people you happen to meet in your daily life. Suddenly I feel inspired to get back in the kitchen.
“Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve, And Hope without an object cannot live.”
–Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I have written about ANZAC Day and ANZAC biscuits before. And more than that, I have baked ANZAC biscuits almost more than I have baked any other kind of cookie. You can find my recipe in the link above and make some for yourself. They are easy, probably healthier than a lot of other kinds of cookies (full of yummy oats!), quite flavorful and they keep well for longer periods of time than most other cookies. Make some now – you won’t regret it! And I won’t be bringing you any ANZACs since baking just has not happened for me much this year. So instead I can just acknowledge that it’s ANZAC Day and post a picture.
Part of this is just a lack of motivation for it. Part of it is also the occasional freelance project that pops up now and again. I have a normal full-time job that is relatively stimulating and busy – and I learn a lot. But having owned a small business for a very long time and having lived solely on freelance work alone, I find it is impossible to say no to freelance work. Not just because I always feel that old pull of “feast or famine”/you never know when your next job will come but also because it’s a challenge – it keeps the brain agile, putting together new things, learning new industries and jargon (never quite becoming a specialist). And the bottom line – I am never saying yes to things I don’t ultimately really enjoy. That often means working through weekends and nights – stuff that “normal” people are not that keen to do. The Salon article cited above captured all the feelings and experiences of being a freelancer – and never off the clock, and how that is both a blessing and a curse.
“If I love doing something, spending more time on it isn’t a chore. I’m not oppressed because I work all the time. I’m fortunate. What more could I wish for? I get paid to do everything I do. My actualization is monetized. I’ve won capitalism.
Nice as winning capitalism is, though, it’s also somewhat unsettling. In an economy more and more focused on cultural production, the line between producer and consumer and marketer just about disappears. Writers throughout history have often simultaneously exulted and despaired at the way that their lives turn into their art, but having your life turn into a content mill seems like a new, unpleasantly banal twist. Even happy cogs are still cogs — working all the better because they’re happy, and willing to turn all the time.”
Almost no cookie I have made in my whole baking life has been as popular as the white chocolate macadamia nut cookie. They used to grace each and every of my big bakes, but that was back when I could get my hands on white chocolate chips regularly. Those days are long over, and now I have to ration the chips I have. Interestingly though when I have made them, they are not quite the popular sweet bits they were in my old job.
I am going to make some of these this weekend – it has been ages since I baked. Time to get the assembly line moving again.
I often joke about the “always-on” nature of the American professional. The work ethic is baked into the American psyche to the point that most Americans have trouble going on vacation without checking their email (what little vacation Americans get). It is not always so much that an American cannot stop working as it is that Americans feel less stress and enjoy the vacation more if they track what is going on in their absence, even if they don’t take action on anything during the vacation.
The Nordic work ethic, on the other hand, is just about the polar opposite. Vacation is serious and no interruption will be tolerated. In most cases. At least this is how it has been in most of my Scandinavian work experiences. While I will never be able to turn off the American worker bee inside me, I support the sentiment of separating work from vacation and time off, and thus am surprised and not pleased when I encounter Nordic corporate exception.
In managerial roles, people need to lead by example. I have of late encountered a lot of people who are taking work home, proudly announcing that they are up late at night answering emails and get up early to get two or three hours (!) of quiet time to work before they actually come to the office. The problem with this is not so much that managers are working at all hours, which is their prerogative, but that they are placing these kinds of expectations on others. I would call this a problem of “presenteeism”. You can be too present. Being present and working at all hours of day and night – and showing everyone that you are working – a manager is creating an environment that makes his/her entire team feel as though he is not doing enough if s/he is not working as much as the manager is, especially when this workaholic enthusiasm is overflowing. Nothing wrong with doing your job and loving it- but maybe some of the sending emails in the middle of the night could be curtailed.
Personally, I find this more troublesome when a workplace is particularly inflexible otherwise. With the way the workplace is changing, I would expect something different.
I have spent almost 15 years freelancing and working remotely. As the new century dawned and I took up residence in a new country, I had to adapt to a lot of new things – and part of that was finding a professional niche for myself. It also seemed like the dawn of a new era that would enable remote/virtual work, particularly in fields like mine (content development, writing, editing). To varying degrees, things have been moving in that direction, depending on the industry I worked in. Obviously the home office let me be the ever-present, never-present workaholic. That is, I have been available to work 24/7 without ever being present in an office. I have always been a happy American-style worker, and my home office is the most productive environment for me. As my regular, full-time jobs took the direction of allowing me to work primarily from home, I have realized that this is the only way for me to work.
The trick now will be to find the place that acknowledges my home as my office and will let me turn up in a real office on occasion, car loaded with hundreds and hundreds of cookies.
Send me a sign/leads – and cookies can be yours. Seriously – give me a lead, and I will give you cookies.
When I made Halloween snickerdoodles, using black and orange sanding sugar, people raved like these were the best things they ever ate. Maybe this is because at Halloween, although there were choices, there were fewer choices than at Christmas. The Christmas snickerdoodles, using red and green sugar, were among the last to go. There’s just no telling what’s going to float a group’s boat (palate-wise). (Can you just imagine what “no telling what’s going to float a group’s boat” sounds like in a lovely Scottish accent, by the way?)
Christmas snickerdoodles
SNICKERDOODLES
Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C)
t. is for teaspoon; T. is tablespoon; c. is cup
1½ c. sugar (about 250g)
½ c. butter (113g)
½ c. shortening (113g)
2 eggs
2¾ c. flour (355g)
2 t. cream of tartar (8g)
1 t. baking soda (4g)
¼ t. salt (1.4g)
2 T. sugar (25g)
2 T. cinnamon (12.5g)
Mix sugar, butter, shortening, egg. Stir in flour, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt. Mix sugar and cinnamon together. In order to bake, roll dough into small balls and roll balls in the sugar-cinnamon mixture and bake on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 10 minutes.
Very little in this world sounds more disgusting to me than eggnog. I don’t know if the “real” eggnog made from scratch would be any better (sounds like a concoction of all wrong/bad things – thick, cream, milky, yucky) but the idea of buying a pre-made, non-alcoholic version in a grocery store and (god forbid) drinking it … or making a latte out of it – sounds beyond hideous.
That said, I might this year try out an eggnog recipe. And then use some of it to make eggnog cookies. I know SOME people will like it – even if I loved cookies, I can’t see myself being one of them.
Probable eggnog recipe
4 eggs (separated); use the yolks and whites both – but separately
1/3 cup sugar + 1 tablespoon sugar
1 pint whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
3 ounces bourbon
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Beat egg yolks, gradually add the 1/3 cup sugar and beat until dissolved. Add the milk and cream, then the bourbon and nutmeg. Stir.
In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites to soft peak stage. Gradually add the tablespoon of sugar and beat until stiff peaks form.
Whisk the egg white and egg yolk mixtures together. Chill, serve in cups with a bit of freshly grated nutmeg on top.
Probable eggnog cookie recipe
1 1/4 cups white sugar
3/4 cup soft butter
1/2 cup eggnog (of course use some of the eggnog you made from the recipe above!)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 egg yolks
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2 1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Preheat oven to 300F and line pans with parchment paper. Combine dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, cinnamon and nutmeg) in one bowl. Cream sugar and butter until fluffy in another bowl. Add eggnog, vanilla and egg yolks. Beat until smooth. Add flour mixture and until just combined. Spoon small balls of dough onto parchment-lined baking sheets. Make them small because the dough spreads. Sprinkle lightly with nutmeg. Bake 15 to 18 minutes.
Next weekend, among the things I shall bake — an army of gingerbread men. They are soft soldiers, though. Not hard or ready for combat. Living in Scandinavia, as I do, I know that people really like their traditional pepparkakor/piparkökur – thin, crisp and not unlike a dog biscuit in its crunchy-last-forever qualities. But a thick, soft gingerbread man will get me every time.
