Christmas Chocolate Crinkles!!!

Lately I've been unsuccessfully, and rather messily, trying my hand at baking! Baking goes against all that I am. It is entirely antithetical to my nature and core personality. It is the "1979 Chateau Lafite" to my "relatively cold Coors Light in a can." I have a tendency to mis-measure. I'm prone to cutting a recipe down to a half-batch, but still managing to add the full quotient of baking soda. Or mixing up baking soda and baking powder. Or adding 2 cups of baking powder instead of 2 tsp. Cooking is my speed... if it tastes weird you just add rosemary, and then at least it tastes like rosemary.

That said, I actually rather enjoy baking! Something about messing around in the kitchen brings about a sort of deep, very real sense of joy. Food is, inherently, a joyful thing to me. That sounds ridiculous. But really, I think Kar and I both see food as a form of community, or at least a catalyst to it.

So yesterday I called Mom for a recipe. No particular preference. I wouldn't dare tackle her famous "Christmas Cookies". The term is generic, but those of us in the family know exactly which ones I'm referring to. As I mentioned to her over the phone, trying to pull off those puppies would be sacrilege. Like covering a Beatles tune. It's simply not done.

So she listed off some options, and we decided on her "Chocolate Crinkles." Little known fact: these little nerds were originally born out of the kitchen of one Linda Epp! (as noted boldly on top of the recipe card Dad scanned and beamed over to me...)

Once again, my success was decidedly measured. I forgot to grease the pan (Kar rolled her eyes exceedingly at this...). I also burnt the first run. In the end, though, I think we're making progress. If they aren't good yet, they're at least getting less bad...

So c'mon over and help us out with these things! It turns out every one of Mom's baking recipes results in approximately 8 dozen cookies. 8 DOZEN!!! Your fault Steve.












Test run!!!


It's unclear whether this reaction is positive or negative...

Hello, my old friends!

Hey family! (and friends..)

I'm on a journey in search of reality. Finding things that are genuine is an experience I find increasingly challenging, and comparably rewarding. People who do what I do for a living learn to create moments. We spend our days searching for new ways to convince the same audience that they really are having a very good time, very good indeed! (Michael Cane?) This is not inherently bad. Roger Ebert writes often about the notion that, in film-going (and I'll tack on television-watching), the goer and the creators willingly and knowingly enter into a sort of suspended reality. We're playing make-believe, and it's a riot!

But by an interesting shift in my own personal paradigm, I find myself lingering increasingly around the "honest, if a little less glossy" bin in favor of the other, shiny-er substitutes. Our society moves with increasing swiftness towards a day in which we fail to intelligently engage with that which we consume on any cognizant level.

By taking a step back from some of the staples of what it is to live in this great age, I suppose I've been making something of an effort at seeing the forest, while maintaining a healthy professional interest in the trees. In practical terms, this has meant less social networking (facebook, et al) and more face to face conversing. Less email and more phone calling. It's meant seeking out forms of entertainment that challenge me to engage, as opposed to bludgeoning me with a sort of "you should be enjoying this!" synthetic energy.

It's been a worthwhile and ongoing exercise. I feel that our sense of the world and the people in it is directly tied to our relationship with the media we consume. Our ability to be moved and inspired by the creative is dependent on our understanding of it.


On a lighter note, with the holidays upon us we're making plans for homemade eggnog, cornish game-hens, and a hot toddy or two! I'll post some pics soon with a few updates on what we're up to!

Be well, mon amis.
Jon