Tonight I’m all alone. It’s Saturday night and I am supposed to be at a party with my husband. Our pug, Owen, had some minor surgery earlier in the week and still isn’t feeling well, so we decided I would be the one to stay home with him. I was feeling a little sorry for myself—I had a really cute outfit all picked out and I haven’t seen our friends in a while. I watched Aaron leave with a nice bottle of Pinot Noir along with a platter of caramelized balsamic Brussels sprouts and shuffled back into the house in my yoga pants and slippers thinking, “Now what?”
It’s a beautiful evening, so I had a beer out on the deck. Owen sat on my lap for a while and then lay at my feet, snoring, which was a good sign. I read some food magazines, which is one of my favorite pastimes. I hoard them for the perfect time and the stars were aligned—no one to disturb me, gorgeous weather for sitting outside, alcoholic beverage of choice at the ready…even Owen was giving me a reprieve from nurse duty.
When I read food magazines, I have this system: I read each magazine from front to back, slowly, savoring each page and each recipe—even the ones with ingredients I don’t eat, like meat or tofu—and then I carefully dog-ear the pages with recipes or products or places I want to look up on the Internet and save to Evernote for future reference. I love to be transported to places like Morocco. I can almost smell the exotic spices, and the architecture is so wonderfully different from my Valley neighborhood. I decide I absolutely must buy a tagine and I make a mental note to order nigella seeds. I will also need to figure out a substitute for lamb. Pages dutifully dog-eared. And when I turn to the spread on a rustic wine country dinner in Napa, I can almost feel the breeze on my shoulders (fashionably covered in a cashmere pashmina, of course) as I sit at a reclaimed wooden table artfully placed in the middle of a million grape vines, perfectly set with mismatched china and flowers, lights twinkling above, and taste the ancient terroir in each sip of a single vineyard cabernet.
I finished my magazines and my beer and got out of my swinging chair (the best place to read) to feed the dog and make myself a sweet potato. I poured a glass of Riesling—’cause heck, there was still some in the fridge from last night—and sat down to enter all my dog-eared stuff into the interwebs for further investigation.
And that’s when I came upon the recipe for the Chocolate Chip Cookie For One.
Hmmmm, the oven was still warm from my sweet potato and I had all the ingredients. The night was definitely looking up. It took mere moments to mix all the ingredients together. The only tools I used were a small bowl, a fork and measuring spoons. When I was done, I had this tiny amount of cookie dough, and something about its diminutiveness made me happy. A sprinkling of Maldon sea salt on top of the cookie and into the oven with this solitary confection. Cookie for one coming right up!
Usually, when I bake there is a mess to contend with that sometimes puts a damper on my baking high, but I washed my few dishes and was back on the computer in no time. I had barely typed “where to buy tagine” in my browser when…COOKIE SMELL!
The pug is resting nicely, the kitchen is clean, and I’ve got a warm cookie and Matilda (one of my favorite movies) on DVR. I guess the song is true—if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with, especially if it happens to be a chocolate chip cookie.
Stuff Worthy Of Our Notice™ in this post:
CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE FOR ONE (adapted from Food & Wine magazine)
1 Tbsp. unsalted butter*
1 Tbsp. packed light brown sugar
1 tsp. granulated sugar
⅛ tsp. vanilla
Pinch of salt
2 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1½ Tbsp. bittersweet chocolate chips or chunks (or any other chocolate you happen to have on hand)
Maldon salt (or other flake sea salt) for sprinkling (optional)
Heat oven (or toaster over) to 350° F. In a small microwave bowl, heat the butter until just softened (not melted), about 10 seconds on 50% power. Using a fork, blend both sugars, the vanilla and a pinch of salt into the butter. Blend in the flour, then stir in the chocolate chips. Gather the dough in your hands and form a ball, then flatten onto a parchment-lined baking sheet (or toaster tray). Sprinkle with the Maldon salt. Bake for 13-15 minutes, until lightly browned. Let cool slightly. Get comfy with your most favorite pet (optional) and queue Matilda.
*To veganize this recipe, use a non-dairy butter substitute like Earth Balance.