“There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives.  The kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies.  The war has begun.”
– Allison Lurie

The end of a semester is always a bit sad, largely because we often have a turnover in student employees.  Today is Daae’s last day and Sport’s second to last day.

In honor…actually, in mourning…of the day, Wise and I decided that we wanted to do something for them and I said I would make a bunch of cookies for the office.  Unfortunately I had my creative writing final which lasted until 8pm (which was a surprising amount of fun, but that’s another post) and then I had to spend half an hour Harley (yes, I named it), so I didn’t open my cupboards until 9:30 which is when I discovered we had no butter – or milk, or bread, but who’s keeping tabs?

(Side note:  We go through butter at an alarming rate.  Perhaps I should up my Harley time to an hour?)

So, off to the store.  While I went in with the best of frugal intentions, I came out with butter, milk, bread, apples, oranges, carrots, dried fruit, yogurt, English muffins, granola bars, vegetables, chocolate chips, and evaporated milk.  Oops.

Then I got to work whipping up a double batch of chocolate chip cookies and thanking Mum and Dad for the foresight of getting me an industrial sized Kitchen Aid for a wedding present.  It was all going swimmingly until I pulled the first pan out of the oven.

Something had gone terribly wrong.  They didn’t look like cookies at all, they looked like scones.  But they didn’t taste like scones, they tasted like incredibly dry biscuits.  But they didn’t feel like biscuits, the felt like hockey pucks.  You can imagine my confusion.

We picked up some donuts this morning instead.