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16 March 2007
Have a cookie. No, really. →[More:]I was up early, bored, and had plenty of Quaker Oatmeal. The standard recipe, to which I add a cup of Sunkist raisins, 1/4 cup walnut pieces, 1/4 cup cracked pecans, and a couple tblsp. of butter.
hmmm... weird. The printer-friendly link reverts back to the regular page, apparently. Anyway:
FAMOUS QUAKER OATMEAL COOKIES
Printed from COOKS.COM
3/4 c. vegetable shortening
1 c. firmly packed Imperial brown sugar
1/2 c. Imperial granulated sugar
1 egg
1/4 c. water
1 tsp. vanilla
3 c. Quaker oatmeal, uncooked
1 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. soda
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat together shortening, Imperial sugars, egg, water and vanilla until creamy. Combine and add remaining dry ingredients; mix well. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes. For variety, add chopped nuts, raisins, chocolate chips or coconut. Makes about 5 dozen cookies.
Mmmmmm, I used to make these fresh everyday for my [ex] fiance's lunch *cough* yes, he was very spoiled. Got to the point where his class and work mates were offering to buy the cookies off of him. Wish I could have taken credit, but I just followed the directions.
I'm sure they are delicious and no offense, paulsc ... but that photo doesn't look especially appetizing to me. More like my cat used the same plate to cough her cookies on for a month.
I just got a box of Tagalongs Girl Scout cookies from a coworker selling them on behalf of his daughter. They're the chocolate covered peanut butter ones. Mmmm... peanut butter.
When I was a kid, there was one word that was absolutely verboten at the dinner table: "disgusting." We were free to say we liked or disliked something -- it wasn't a matter of mom taking offense -- and the rule stood when eating out as well.
It took a few years for me to ask why, and the answer makes sense. Everybody knows the word "disgusting," and everybody has a mental image of something disgusting that can be called up simply by uttering the word. When you're eating even the most delicious meal you've ever had, and someone says "disgusting," that mental image briefly flashes by (or trots in and lingers, depending on who you are) and sours the meal a little bit.
So prefacing a statement comparing a photo of fresh-baked cookies someone's eating or about to eat with cat vomit with the phrase "no offense" seems odd, like using the word "disgusting" at table and expecting no one to be disgusted.
I can't argue with that point, Hugh. Everyone else's effusiveness for the picture (not the cookies, which again I'm sure are tasty) prompted my piping up.
What a wise parental rule! I love that, especially since you were free to express your opinion otherwise. I have no idea how I articulated my feelings about liver and onions, but my parents still tease me about it. (Thank goodness they weren't you-MUST-eat-what-we-put-on-the-table sorts - I was perfectly welcome to make myself a sandwich on the very few occasions I didn't like the grub, which was only when we had liver and onions or fried chicken livers, as I remember.)
I love liver and onions. When I was a kid (she's better now) I used to dread when my mom would cook steaks or chops or other cuts of meat in the pan. She'd dry 'em out so bad, it was awful. I never went to a steak house until college because I thought, Steak? No, thank you. Steak sucks. Then my friends, who wondered why I loved burgers but hated steaks, forced me to go get steaks at some joint in Indianapolis. The steak was perfect, and I felt like my mom had betrayed me by ruining so many cuts of meat (roasts, though, were her specialty).
What was I on about? Oh yeah, she couldn't cook steaks or chops but she's always made a delicious liver and onions. I sometimes order liver and onions at a diner and they aren't so great.
Here's another one. When I was a kid I loved brussels sprouts, but my mom never made them, because she hated them from when she was a little girl. Eventually I got her to try them, and she discovered she loved them.