Monday, February 23, 2015

World Peace Cookies


"You can't connect the dots looking forward, you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart, even when it leads you off the well worn path." (Steve Jobs). For the past couple of weeks I had been obsessively checking the weather forecast for northern Wisconsin watching to see if a blizzard would be passing through during my planned getaway. Driving in treacherous snowy weather is not high on my list of favorite things to do (one knuckle clenching driving experience on Independence Pass on the way to Aspen one year was enough for me). As my trip approached, I breathed a sigh of relief knowing snow was not in forecast. However, the predictions for the air temperature in the days before I was leaving were a little off or rather I should say they were significantly off. Like more than twenty degrees off. Toe and hand warmers, my long North Face coat, scarves, boots, a hat, gloves, and multiple layers of clothing made taking photos in 25 and 35 degree below zero temperatures tolerable, but just barely. Not that anyone would have heard me (I don't think I saw any other insane humans out taking photos or on hikes on those record cold days), but I thought it best to wait until I got in the car to scream, as if that would help to relieve the pain of my exposed frozen fingers. It didn't. And other than wimping out to get sunrise photos (my threshold for pain wasn't high enough), I was determined to not let the dangerous cold completely thwart my little photography expedition. It didn't. Already I envision a return trip back to capture all of the images, paths, and roads seen but not taken. Only this next trip won't happen until temperatures become winter weather balmy-like (in other words, thirty degrees above zero or higher). Even I have my glutton for punishment limits.

At the end of each day spent outdoors I craved something warm to drink or eat. Note to self: On your next trip bring mulled wine or some chocolate chip cookie dough. But satisfying my need for something warm to drink or something warm and chocolatey to eat wouldn't be met until I returned home. For awhile now I had been wanting to make Pierre Herme's and Dorie Greenspan's World Peace cookies as the idea of a cookie described as a cross between a shortbread and salted chocolate chip cookie sounded like the best of all cookie combinations. In my world, these World Peace cookies were destined to be made with white chocolate chips instead of bittersweet chocolate chips as a way of paying homage to and reliving all of my wild adventures over the past couple of days in the snow and ice. Admittedly I am not a big fan of delayed gratification, however, these cookies were definitely worth the wait.


Both standard and metric measures for the ingredients are listed in the recipe below. After reading some  of the reviews on these cookies (dough was too crumbly and not coming together), I went with the metric measurement approach. Whether you measure or weigh your ingredients may not really matter. What matters most is beating the butter and sugars until light, fluffy and creamy. While I used the white chocolate chips, I imagine they would be equally delicious with bittersweet, peanut butter or mint chocolate chips.


This is a crumbly dough, but surprisingly it comes together when it is formed into two 1 1/2 inch in diameter logs. The logs of dough are chilled in the refrigerator for at least three hours but can be chilled for several days. But seriously, who could wait that long? Only someone with a high tolerance for personal deprivation. Note: Use a thin, sharp knife when cutting the cookies. Running the knife under hot water and drying it helps to keep each cookie round intact. However, if bits of the cookie break off (and they will) simply press them back into the cookie.


Like most shortbread cookies, these cookies are baked at a low oven temperature (325 degrees), but for a much shorter baking time. The half inch slices of the chilled cookie dough are baked for only 12-13 minutes. Yes, they will not look done when you remove them from the oven. But when they come to room temperature they will be, they become perfect. Even more perfect when accompanied by a glass of ice cold milk.

Because I cut these cookies thick (much closer to a 1/2 inch), I ended up with 24 cookies (versus the 36 indicated in the original recipe). Next time I will cut them slightly thinner, maybe somewhere between 1/4 and 1/3 of an inch.


It didn't take me nearly as many years to make these cookies as it did for me to return to a place in Wisconsin I had not been for decades, but had only experienced in summer and fall. While each season has its' own unique beauty, winter there created some of the most wondrous landscapes. The extreme cold weather made it hard at times for me to focus (aka brain freeze), I actually at the end of each day my eyes were more exhausted than my body as there was so much to take in. As brutally cold and tough to endure as the weather was (have I whined enough about the cold yet?), some of my heart stopping, gasping out loud moments came when I found some incredible icicles along the rocks in a cove on Lake Michigan; seeing more than a hundred geese take flight in a snow covered corn field (if only my hands had been warm enough for me to change the lens on my camera); and, watching sunsets over a bay covered with waves of frozen ice and snow. My other heart stopping moments are stories for another time. I can't help but wonder what a spring landscape there looks like. Suppose I will have to wait to find out. I hear destiny calling. And I should be completely warmed up by then.

Recipe
World Peace Cookies (inspired by Pierre Herme and Dorie Greenspan's World Peace Cookies recipe)

Ingredients
1 1/4 cups (175 grams) all-purpose flour
1/3 cup (30 grams) unsweetened cocoa
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
11 Tablespoons (150 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 cup (50 grams) granulated sugar
2/3 cup (120 grams) light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon fleur del sel or 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
5 ounces (150 grams) white chocolate chips (or bitter sweet chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, or chopped bitter or semisweet chocolate)

Directions
1. Sift flour, cocoa and baking soda together. Set aside.
2. Using a standing mixer with a paddle attachment, beat butter on medium speed until soft and creamy.
3. Add granulated sugar, brown sugar, vanilla and salt. Beat for two additional minutes. Turn off mixer.
4. Pour in dry ingredients. Cover top of bowl with a kitchen towel (to prevent flying flour), pulsing mixer at low speed about 5 times (a second or two each time). If there is still flour on the surface of the dough, pulse a couple more times. Remove towel and continue mixing on low seep for approximately 30 seconds or until all of the flour disappears into the dough (try to work the dough as little as possible for a better finished cookie texture). 
5. Add chocolate pieces and still until mixed in.
6. Turn the dough out onto a work surface (it will be very crumbly, but do not worry). Divide in half, shape each half into a log approximately 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 3 hours (dough can be refrigerated for up to 3 days or frozen for up to 2 months).
7. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
8. Using a sharp knife, slice logs into generous 1/4 inch or 1/2 inch rounds. If the rounds crack, just squeeze the bits back into each cookie). Place rounds on baking sheet. Note: To assist in the cutting process, run knife under hot water, dry and then cut.
9. Baking only one cookie sheet at a time, bake for approximately 12 minutes. Note: The cookies will not look done, nor will they be firm, but that is the way they should be. 
10. Transfer cookies to a cooling rack. Eat at room temperature.
11. Store cookies in a covered container.

Views of a harbor overlooking a bay and an old cherry truck sitting in an even older barn.


Seeing horses in a pasture made the drive back home on a snowy day a little less stressful.