A Decadent Disaster

 

I admit. I need this.

I would like to give you all an update on the progress of my cooking skills, which I so candidly swore would improve. I lied. Or rather, I was tricked into convincing myself they would improve. But I have to admit- I have not put much effort into this New Year's resolution. I've been so caught up in Half Marahton training that it's been hard to make the time (at least, that's what I keep telling myself). This excuse leads us to Valentine's Day Baking Blunder #2: Red Velvet Cookies.

My co-worker's wife was sweet enough to give us all some of these for Christmas, and ever since, I've been longing for another morsel of this Red Velvet heaven. I found a seemingly easy recipe online which even gave shortcuts like using the Duncan Hines Red Velvet Cake Mix. That cut down on half the steps and I still managed to mutilate this savory masterpiece.

All was going smoothly until it was time to make the frosting. These cookies are really cookie sandwhiches, bound together by a layer of suculent cream cheese frosting. Mmm. My mouth is watering in remembrance of what they tasted like back in December, and my stomach is dry heaving in remembrance of what they tasted like yesterday.

I was intelligently measuring my two tablespoons of milk over the entire bowl of ingredients, when the milk came bursting out of the carton into the bowl. I got my two tablespoons alright. Try two cups.

"Oh great. I just effed these up....hopefully they still taste good."

My boyfriend and roommate said nothing as they exchanged concerned glances behind my back. They silently vowed to take tums before bravely putting any dessert in their mouth that I made.

Since I dumped a whole carton of milk into the bowl, the cream cheese frosting was more runny than creamy, so I thought I'd put my baking expertise to good use by thickening up the frosting with even more powdered sugar than the four cups that were already in there. That made it manageable enough to glop on the cookies.

Finally, the moment of truth came. I walked my plate of  "tester" cookies out to the living room for my roommate and boyfriend to try. It was like a dare - we all took our first bite on three. I should have chosen truth. They were painfully sweet. Powdered sugar should never be used to thicken anything. They were instant stomach churners. My roommate could stand them more than my boyfriend and I could. At least someone could. That's one more than in previous attempts, right?

Another trip to the grocery store down the trash chute. Nothing says I love you like a botched batch of cookies.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but putting me in the kitchen might be the death of you.