Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Le Chef

I, my friends, am a baker. Believe me when I say I understand your skepticism. It's hard for me to fathom as well. Perhaps I inherited some of my mother's baking skills. Perhaps the stars aligned and a new talent has come forth. Or, perhaps it was the simplicity of the recipe. Regardless, I make cookies, and they are loved by all.

Proof that it was me, not my mother or the store.

The ingredients. Yes, it is a simple recipe.
The special ingredient is love. I'm running short on that, so I used the next best thing.
Chocolate chips.

The results.
They got bigger than expected, so they had to be cut, that's why they are squarish.
I figure the only people who that would bother are shapists, and if they don't want a cookies because they like circles better than squares then they don't deserve a cookie anyway.

Ready for delivery.
Nobody died after eating them, and it's been over 24 hours.
If anything happens to them now I can say it wasn't me.

If you're lucky, maybe one day you'll get some cookies.
Don't forget to kiss the cook.
Cookies, milk, and kisses, how can you go wrong there?

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