Baking Cookies or The December Kitchen Debacle

Kim Leonard may be known for her abilities to unravel complex equine behavioral problems, but that same deductive reasoning skill set doesn't seem to be effective in the kitchen. What kind of witchcraft is this?

Alas, yet another kitchen debacle for the books. I tried to make the tasty delectable cookies which Kimberly had made at the party last weekend (yes, the same ones that I consumed in bulk on Sat morning). It looked SO EASY when she did it, and there are only about 3 ingredients and I HAVE the recipe, so how hard could it be?

Apparently it's much harder than certain other things at which I am proficient, such as replacing the starter on my tractor, feeding 14 horses every morning, or riding a bucking Highboy over big jumps. As I embarked on mixing the ingredients, no matter how long I stirred by hand or how long I ran the darn mixer, the dough never turned into dough. It stubbornly remained fluffy powder and tasted like chalk. I was pretty sure it looked like dough when they did it Sat. 

I texted Kim and talked to Owen, who determined I had only added half the required amount of butter due to the "sticks" being "half sticks" in this brand. (Why aren't these things standardized? Another culinary mystery.) So Owen proceeded to add the remainder of the missing butter, which then made the dough appear doughy.

I carefully measured out the cookie dough into balls using my cookie dough baller, given to me by my ever-enthusiasic mother-in-law who never loses faith that I might one day be able to cook something other than oatmeal in the microwave. I sent the tray into the oven at 350 deg just as the recipe prescribed.

Ten minutes later the dough didn't look any different. I added another two minutes to the timer. It still didn't look any different. I kept waiting for the "tips to brown" as stated in the recipe. It never happened, so I just took them out of the oven and put in the next batch.

Once the pale lumps of flour and cornstarch were cooled Owen was brave enough to eat one. The thing split horizontally like a biscuit (my BISCUITS never split nicely like that!) and the bottom half dropped to the floor where it was promptly consumed by a watchful and happy house dog.

I attempted to eat one myself, and the thing was the consistency of a tablespoon of wet chalk dust. It didn't really taste cookie-y at all. What happened to the delicious melt-in-your-mouth bites of heaven I had consumed mere days ago?? 

I tried again with two more batches to no avail. The last one was at least somewhat edible, probably because I added sprinkles. Kim promised to help me next time so these things are not a perpetual mystery. I guess I better stick to my title as The Grease Monkey in Breeches.