Snickerdoodles: a Step by Step Guide in How to Bring Out Your Inner Bitch Mom

The challenge: To cook and blog the 115 recipes from the 1st Thug Kitchen recipe book within a year. Did I achieve this crazy goal? Hell yeah, I did. Did I burn some food along the way? Fuck yeah.

Now what am I doing? Blogging the shit out of the other Thug Kitchen recipes that are out there. *points weirdly out the window*

Today it’s Snickerdoodles. From the Fast as Fuck book.

Now whether you’re a dad needing something to stick in your kid’s mouth to shut them up, a mom who needs to out do other moms at the bake sale, or just a non-parent-type who likes to eat cookies, you’re gonna love these. There’s something here for everybody. Unless you don’t like cinnamon, then there’s nothing here for you. Look away now. Make your sneaky exit and come back next time.

The great thing about these is not only are they FUCKING FAST to make, but they are so simple that even a monkey in an apron could do this.

Of course that didn’t stop me from gabbing with a friend mid-bake, getting distracted, drinking coffee and not paying total attention, so they got a bit….large. But fuck it, who doesn’t want one of these double-sized cookies in their lives? (Cinnamon-haters, that’s who. Yes, you know who you are.)

So if you make them like I did, like step-by-step:

First, you get out a bowl and a big ass wooden spoon, and then get all your ingredients lined up on the counter. Then you realise you’re a super jerk because you don’t need a bowl at all, you just need your food processor. So step 2 is put the god damn bowl away.

Then you throw in the stuff that needs throwing in the food processor and whizz that shit up until it’s super creamy. Don’t know what to throw in? Fret not, buy your own book and turn to page 161 and you too can be a monkey in an apron.

My step 3 was adding the flour, cream of tartar, and other dry ingredients and blending the shit out of it all again, while casually drinking coffee. My step 4 was realising I was only meant to pulse, not blend. Shit.

Fuck it, there are no take-backsies in life, or in cookie-making, and I was in too far now to go back. I dumped the dough on the counter and started rolling those little bastards into balls like there was no tomorrow. I rolled them in the cinnamon mixture.

I opened the cupboard and got out my baking paper to line a baking sheet. (Yes, I should’ve done this 5 or 6 steps ago, but I’m a real person, and clearly not very good at taking instructions. You’re dealing with a non-conformist here, get used to it.)

I realised that there was only ONE SHEET of baking paper left. Crap. This is more of a two sheet kinda gig, I tell you right now.

So I improvised and tried to strategically place my balls on the baking sheet, squeezing them together. Easier said than done (especially when you’re a chick and don’t even have balls, you know what I’m sayin’?) Once my cinnamon and sugared covered beauties were all lined up, and the oven was heated I was ready to go. My friend said she thought they were gonna spread out in the oven, so I tried to distract her by flinging another cup of coffee in her general direction and shoved the baking tray in the oven while she wasn’t looking.

20171001_09515020171001_09520320171001_095158She was of course right. They spread like a contagious disease in the 17th hundredth century. They went from little cute cinnamon sugar dusted balls to large squares. I had to slice them using a pizza cutter to get them un-stuck from one another. I was starting to feel a bit ridiculous in front of my friend, baking cookies in my pajamas, and hacking away with a pizza cutter while I clutched my coffee cup, like a drowning man clutching his life vest in a storm.

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But it’s okay because they tasted amazing. Especially straight from the oven when they were still hot and sort of soft. I know the Thugs said to wait, but like I said, I’m anti-conformist and like to live dangerously.

These warm motherfuckers go hand-in-hand with coffee, like a straight jacket goes hand-in-hand with a syringe of tranquilizer. And when they’re cold they sort of harden a little to give the ultimate crunch. (Like your meds when you chew them straight out of that tiny cup they give them to you in. Open wide bitches, to show the psych-ward staff that they’re all gone.) It’s perfection in a bite.

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So, if you’re a tired mom surrounded with passive-aggressive ‘One-Upmanship’ moms, and you have a dreaded bake sale coming up, these are simply MADE for you. You won’t just impress with these cookies, you can basically just go ahead and tear the crown from the Queen-Bee Mom’s head and stick it in your own scraggly, unbrushed hair. Do a little curtsy for those bitch-motherfuckers, stick a cookie in your smiling mouth, and walk away into the sunset head held high.

That’s how I’d do it anyway.

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Now if you’re waiting on your own cookbook to arrive in the mail but are craving cinnamon I won’t leave you hanging. I’d never do you like that. Give you the Thug Kitchen recipe? No way, I respect the Thugs too much to do THEM like that. I love those food geniuses and don’t wanna infringe on no copyright laws. But how’s about a recipe for authentic Cinnamon Danish Pastries? Fluffy like a cloud, Danish like an enraged Viking, these are a delicious way to start the day. (Friendly warning: These are not vegan and contain things like butter.)

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My Perfect Day: Start your day with breakfast, danish pastries, and a side of snickerdoodles, and spend the night with Amber. For those you not in the know, turn your Fast as Fuck cookbooks to page 149, and check out Amber Waves, a sexy Thug Kitchen cocktail that you’re gonna be hanging with a lot if you’re anything like me. I blame my new love-affair with bourbon on Amber, and the Thugs, and…myself.

I can hear Amber calling me now…It would be rude to leave her waiting.

 

 

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