Cookies

I love cookies. In fact, I think a job well done or an especially good deed merits a cookie. "OH! Good Job! You Get A Cookie!". It just fits. Have you ever said "You want a cookie" in front of a dog? If you have, then you know, that what follows is a tsunami of sheer, unbridled and uncontrollable excitement. When I was a kid, we had a poodle named Alfie. If you mentioned the word cookie or even spelled it out, this dog couldn't move fast enough to get up and race you to the kitchen. With legs to excited to actually work together, this crazy mutt would run into doors, walls, corners or slow children to get to his treat. Nothing was going to keep Alfie from what was apparently his life force. If you said cheese in front of him, he'd stretch, get up and wag his tale. It sort of reminded me of Dom DeLuise in "History of the World, Part 1" saying "Nice. Not thrilling, but nice". No, it was only the word cookie that elicited true excitement.

Now, I may be a slut for bacon, but let it be known that I will come running through a kitchen at top speed, braving a freshly washed/waxed floor surrounded by counter tops with sharp edges the minute I know there is a promise of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. I do not know what it is about a warm fresh cookie that makes me so happy. Not only that... it makes a person crave milk! What other food actually makes you crave another food?! Sure, some food goes together. Peanut butter and jelly. Bacon and eggs. Pork Chops and Applesauce. I have never in my life eaten a piece of bacon and thought "Hmmm, an egg would be so good with this". Even the most lactose intolerant person I know will endure hours of cramping and potty time for the opportunity to dip a warm cookie into a glass of cold milk. People I know who hate milk and cringe even at the thought of it say "A glass of milk would go really well with this" when they have a Tollhouse in hand.

After reflecting on this, I've realized something about myself. If I had to pick a last meal knowing that I couldn't get my first choice (a perfectly cooked rare N.Y. Strip topped with fois gras, surrounded by fresh truffles and boursin mashed potatoes), I would die happy having had a plate of crispy bacon followed by warm cookies and ice cold milk.

Tonight, our class in culinary skills walks away from the stock pot and makes friend with a saute pan. Chicken with basil and garlic. I'm sure there will be something to report!