My phone rang just as I was about to add the chocolate chips. Being the ultimate multitasker than I am, I chit chatted while pouring the dark brown buttons into the mixture, worked my biceps, careful not to spit (though I most likely did) nor overmix the dough. Still on the phone, I covered the dough and stored in the fridge just like the recipe instructed. Finally, I bid farewell to my friend and cleaned up. But banana monkeys!! A package of chocolate lay on my countertop, the dough was missing half of its chocolate. Ah well.
The results were rather disappointing. Not that they weren’t good. Oh no, they were excellent, crunchy on the edges, soft on the inside, the sugars flaunted a deep caramelized flavour. My favorite bite was chewing into the light sprinkle of sea salt on top of the cookie, playing off the toffee-like sweetness. But still, the cookie overall wasn’t as life-changing as I had fantasized.
Although I confess, I didn’t exactly follow David Letite’s recipe (hangs head in shame). I am poor and cannot afford “the best quality” (aka ridiculously expensive) dark chocolate. Besides, my heart already aches when I pay for my groceries every week—I get kind of greedy when I see fruits (figs! strawberries!) and get an itch to stock up my baskets with their beauty, but that’s another story all together.
Anyway, I resorted to dark chocolate chips instead. And I blame the phone call. I blame the oven too. I moved to a new apt this month and have yet to bond with my new fiery friend. I suspect it heats up a slightly higher temperature than the dial tells it to, so really, who’s fault is it?
There is still some dough sitting obediently in my fridge, awaiting its fate in the hot oven. I’ve been contriving to add slivers of my precious Valrhona chocolate, seek out that melting bite of warm oozy bitterness. That nibble that elates me, inducing R-rated OOH MY GAWD! cookie moaning. That moment when you feverishly crave another one but know you shouldn’t, then toss out that notion and snatch a second just to be certain you tasted pure brilliance.
I’ll be back to report on the results—Unless I end up in warm cookie heaven and refuse to come back down, because it feels too good. Or you can bake them too and let me know how it turns out, find it here.