Saturday, November 17, 2012

The Baker's Foil (and Cats)

[This fantasy of mine is in the possession of the dear sweet SugarBelle, whose collection of cookie masterpieces had me sitting at the computer for hours, putting off actually making my own cookies because I couldn't stop looking at all of hers.]

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Why Nothing Can Ever Be Simple

[I want everyone to know that I had this completely written out and the save button lied, so all my clever quips had to be replaced by not so clever quips.  Creativity can run out.  And what's there now is nothing like what I wrote the first time.  That is all.]

Remember the witch in the story of Hansel and Gretel?  She lured them to her gingerbread house, stuffed them with sweets until they were fattened, them cooked them up and ate them.  This past Halloween, I was that witch.  It's what happens when a baker celebrates Halloween.
I made three kinds of cookies: gingerbread, chocolate, and basic sugar cookies.  All accounted for, this meant about a hundred cookies, the preparing of which was spread out over a few nights.  Decorating them took over four hours on its own.  Was it worth it?  You tell me.

I didn't really have Halloween-y cutters.  I had a few animals, some tools, ninjas, and a mustache.  Mom sent me some ghosts and a wolf/cat/bear cutter just in the nick of time.  (Thanks, Mom!)  There had to be a way to make these sufficiently Halloween-y.  These are some of my "normal" attempts.  Pretty basic.  With a hundredish cookies, sometimes you have to be.  But I'm not a simple person.  I have to do things differently.  Or something.  These were just too cute.  I like puppies just as much as the next person, more so, even, but with something as tempting as animal cookies for Halloween, I can't just leave them so...ordinary.  I tried to be good.  I tried to be normal.  Instead, I got creative.  My macabre side (which isn't very hidden) came out in full.  I worried about what my roommates would think.

I also worried if I might be excommunicated or reported to the proper authorities.  Is this normal?  The frog is practically vomiting gore.  Those tools were clearly weapons of murder.  The butterfly is made of anatomically-correct bloody phalanges.  (Not the one in the picture--a different one.)  The cow is a carcass.  The chicken will feast on your soul.  There was another certain cookie, but it was too bad for even me, and I had it taken care of promptly.

I have to wonder about my sanity sometimes.  Do I have too much fun?  I once made a Christmas cookie look like Frankenstein's monster.  A Christmas cookie.  It was a basic pine tree, but with a bloody gash held together by sprinkle stitches.
I suppose it's time to admit I have a problem.  A delicious, high-calorie problem.  And I enjoy every minute of it.

P.S.  Ignore the unfortunate ghost at the bottom of the picture.  Sometimes cheap-o plastic baggies just can't handle piping.