Valentine's Day -- Bottoms up

This may come as a shock to most, but I’m not a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. I’m not one to arrange dead roses for exes, wear all black, and send cards out to people that say “love is for losers” or “Destiny: You were meant for me (perhaps as a punishment)”. I’m also not the kind of person to wear little cupid pins or make some romantic scavenger hunt to declare my love.

I do think it’s a great holiday to bake one of my favorite things – sugar cookies. The recipe is here, and I have to say, it’s a great one. Very easy to make, the dough rolls out easily, and tastes like my grandma’s. But then I got to thinking; these cookies are a little boring.

What if…

 Now we’re cooking with gas!

 

The first few attempts didn’t turn out the best.

But after a little practice I was on a roll.

 

 ----> My favorite is Granny Panties

Baking the cookies turned out to be a feat. Because the oven is so small, I could only fit in 5 cookies at a time. That’s about 10 batches of cookies. Those of you who have regular ovens should have no problem getting this done in a reasonable amount of time.  

The oven also cooks at whatever temperature it feels like that day, which makes it a guessing game of how long to leave the cookies in without getting burnt. The first few batches came out “Latino”. Robbie ate most of those before they got frosted.

Icing was the hardest part. All of the colors needed to be made in individual batches, so they were all a slightly different consistency. I got a little lazy after about hour 3 of this process, so I might not have measured as accurately. This lead to some being runnier than others – i.e. difficult decorating! Also, because of my budget, I used gallon-sized plastic bags as icing bags. After loading the icing into the corner of the bag, I cut a fine tip. Even so, there was an issue controlling the amount of icing that came out – thus, ‘granny panties.’

With the challenges of the icing, and without a Victoria’s Secret catalog, inspiration was exhausted pretty quickly. I moved into my “hippie period” which consisted of just swirling the colors together to make psychedelic patterns. But I’m sure these panties exist somewhere in the post-Woodstock world

After about hour 5 I just drew hearts on cookies and called it a day.

Robbie thinks I should end this post with some kind of raunchy joke, but I’m just going to conclude it with a Happy V-day, hope it’s as delicious as mine :)

Adventures in Alphabet City Baking : Preheat

In a lot of ways I owe this first blog posting to Abbas Manjee.He's been the one gunning for me to set this bad boy up since I made him a birthday cake last year. “Dude,” he suggested in a euphoric sugar high, “You should sell this shit. You could have a blog where you take pictures of all the stuff you bake, and how much it costs, and then sell it to hungry people in New York.” He may also have been a little drunk.

As well as providing technical and moral support, Abbas was first person who made me realize that baking truly was going to be an adventure in New York City.

Almost a year ago, I moved into my own 1-bedroom apartment. This is a pretty pivotal moment in any twenty-something’s life. Your first place -- you can take your pants off as soon as you walk in the door, put your stuff wherever you want it – it’s the best. And my very first place was the most quintessential New York apartment I could imagine. Anxious to show it off, I immediately invited over Naqiya and Abbas to congratulate my transition into adulthood.

As we walked down the hallway to apt #4, I bragged about all the amazing qualities of my new place: cute little block in Alphabet City, no more 6 floor walk up, a garden right outside my window, exposed brick, washer and dryer in the apartment, pocket doors, all remolded. I opened the door and let both of them step inside. Naqiya immediately said how great my new place was (yes! She’s making me feel 100X better about my $4000 security deposit). After absorbing her praise, I turned to Abbas looking for further validation. He looked around a little more and said, “This is really nice, man… but did you know you don’t have an oven?”

WHAT?!  I had a momentary freak out where I imagined all the delicious things I used the oven for, gone forever --pies, cakes, Midwestern casserole dishes, reheated Thanksgiving rotisserie chicken dinner for 1, the occasional banana bread (sent to Robbie through the always-efficient USPS across several states and a mountain range), cookies, that time I needed to heat up the apartment when it was a little cold….

I’ll spare you the details, but eventually I had to come to terms that if I wanted to continue my baking hobby, I was going to need a convection oven. I took a gander on Criagslist and found a one for sale in Williamsburg. Anthony (the previous owner of the oven) assured me that he only cooked French fries and pizza bites in there. After an exchange of $70, I just had to get it home. All that entailed was walking with a 30lb oven 5 blocks, down some subway stairs, onto the train, off the train, onto another train, up the subway stairs, a few blocks to a bus, on the bus, off the bus, a few more blocks, and then…. then… into my soon-to-be-bakery-scented home. 

 

The purpose of this blog? To chronicle my adventures baking in Alphabet City with a glorified toaster oven and a handmixer I bought from Big Lots in college. It’s kind of like Survivorman for baking (with fewer rattlesnakes). If I can do it – then you can too.

At the end of every post I’ll give a break down of materials and costs, so if you want to do this too you’ll know how much dough you’ll knead (sorry for the pun, Robbie made me do it). Or, if you want me to do it, you can just place an order—you know, for all those times you want to trick people into thinking you invested time into making something from scratch just for the occasion. I promise I’ll make it look extra homemade…

Just kidding – It will be delicious and beautiful!

So enjoy! First post about Valentine’s Day Baking coming soon!

In all of its glory