Some fun facts about Lady LaLa:
*She loves bears and wolves.
*She smells like pinecones and has a face like sunshine.
*She loves Roger Federer, though we won't hold that against her.
*She is the Gretchen Weiners to my Regina George.
And today is her birthday!! Yea!! Send her lots of love and good wishes (and if you need to throw in good vibes about Rafa, do that now too).
I am not a cook....or a baker. But in honor of the Lady's birthday, I thought I would try something a little different and make her a chocolate chip cookie cake. Yes, this was brave of me and a little crazy, but I thought - what the hell. How hard could it be? I bought a giant vat of cookie dough, bought a couple cans of frosting and got to it. Seemed simple enough - just pound it out and put it in the oven. I baked it for about 18 minutes and noticed the middle didn't seem cooked through. Back in for another 5 minutes. Not done, another 5 minutes. Then another 5 minutes. Arrgh...I was getting frustrated. Finally, after 30 minutes it looked done. I pulled it out, let it cool, and then started my magic of transferring said cookie onto its platter. As it came out of the pan, I noticed it stuck a bit to the bottom...but no worries. Yet. As I flipped it top down on to one platter, a huge chunk of the bottom came out. Eeek...maybe it wasn't done after all. Then as I flipped in right side up to the final platter - splat. It was like teflon or some shit. The cookie went flying off the plate smack onto the floor...and when it hit, it sounded like jello. It obviously was not done. Not in the least bit. As I stared down at my kitchen floor and the mounds of chocolate chips that were now everywhere, I immediately thought - where the hell is that bitch Mrs. Fields when you need her. I stared at that dough with hatred. I probably stood there for 5 minutes just looking at it. I then looked at the clock - 8:30 - put on some shoes, grabbed my keys and headed for Harris Teeter to buy a real cookie cake. Why the hell didn't I do that in the first place, I will never know. I came home, cleaned all that cookie up and noticed that I had some dough left in the bucket, which hadn't been used. I baked them up, packed them up, and brought them to work. Food always goes pretty fast around work and the cookies were the same. Until FannaWintour told me they tasted like soap. And then I realized that after picking up cookie bits all over the floor and washing my hands, maybe I didn't rinse as well as I thought. Eeek. No one seemed to notice though.
Anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY L!