Last week, I went to an orientation for baking school. It was very fun for: me. It was not fun for: 2.0.
When I received the invitation for baking school orientation, I was very excited. The invitation for Get Started encouraged me to bring a loved one along. It suggested that I bring my parents and/or my significant other to Get Started, so I asked 2.0 if he might like to come. Because I’m pretty
terrified pumped about heading back to school next year, and I wanted to drag him down with me share the experience with him. And what self-respecting 40 year old brings her parents to school?
Though 2.0 attended the same college back in the day, it was for boring construction type things. I wanted him to see what a cool program looks like, and where I’d be spending my days next year. I figured he’d get to tour the kitchens with me, and meet my teachers. And just to be clear: I received two emails encouraging me to bring a loved one to the orientation. And because I want to be the best student ever, I obeyed.
When we arrived at the college, we were immediately told that we’d be attending separate information sessions. That’s when I knew things were going to go badly. That’s when I realized that the college would be going to great efforts to ensure that those of us who brought loved ones along would be leaving with people who no longer want to have anything to do with us.
While I was in the culinary theatre learning about baking school, 2.0 was attending a lecture on how to best support his child in college. He was given information on financing his child’s education. And he was told that cooking meals for a college student is a nice, supportive thing to do. He was told that he should check on his child frequently. That he should ask how his child is doing at school, and if his child tells him that things are “good,” he should request some sort of proof. Because sometimes kids say things are “good” at school, but in reality they are flunking out.
While 2.0 was learning about how to best support his child’s educational endeavours, I was getting my inspiration on. Chefs talked about how my decision to attend culinary school is the best decision I have ever made. It was your basic high-five-fest. I toured kitchens. I learned about uniforms, ugly shoes and books. I was told that I’ll be learning how to make about 250 varieties of bread next year. Working in the campus bakery. Putting together business plans. Decorating cakes. Making pies. And constructing massive gingerbread houses for charity. It. Was. Awesome.
My orientation took 2 hours. 2.0’s lecture took 30 minutes. For a college, this math seemed way off.
These here cookies are the sort of thing you make to say: it wasn’t my fault, but I’m really sorry that it happened. They also say: I’m sorry you waited an hour an a half in the cafeteria for me. Now, if you want a cookie that says: it wasn’t my fault, and I’m only moderately sorry that it happened, don’t frost them. (FYI, soufflé is how you say it was totally my fault, AND I’m really sorry about it.)
You can store these cookies, in unbaked log form, in your refrigerator for a couple of weeks. You can also freeze them. That means you can whip ’em out and bake them at the last minute, which will, in turn, make you look like a genius. People will say, “how does she do it? When does she find the time?” And you will toss your hair and laugh a laugh that says: you should really get your act together.
These cookies are a basic tea cookie. I added some lemon zest to the dough, but you don’t have to. And then I put some tart, lemony frosting on them to make ’em more awesome. 2.0 really likes the frosting, and feels that you should seriously consider frosting them too.
Also, when I was at baking school orientation, I forgot to ask about school supplies. Who forgets to ask about school supplies? And now I don’t know what kind of scribblers to buy and whether I’m going to need a protractor or not.
Only 104 days until school starts…
. . .
Refrigerator Cookies with Lemony Frosting
recipe: adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook (1979)
Yields about 7 dozen cookies.
For the cookies:
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 cup butter, room temperature
- 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste (or vanilla extract)
- 2 large eggs
- 1 tablespoon lemon zest (optional)
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
For the frosting:
- 1 tablespoon butter, room temperature
- 1 cup icing (confectioner’s) sugar
- 4 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
- lemon zest for garnish (optional)
Note: the above listed quantities for the frosting will yield enough frosting to decorate ONE of the logs of cookie dough (you will have three logs).
To make the cookies:
In a medium sized bowl, whisk together the flour, salt and baking soda. Set aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, on medium speed, mix together the sugar, margarine, vanilla, eggs and lemon zest until well combined. Add the flour mixture, and mix until well combined.
Divide the dough into three equal parts. Shape each mound of dough into a log/roll (about 1.5 inches in diameter and 7 inches long). Wrap, and put in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours before baking. You can keep the dough in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
To bake the cookies:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Cut dough log into 1/4 inch slices, and place onto prepared baking sheets about 1 inch apart. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until the edges start to turn golden. Allow to cool on cooling racks.
Note: the dough logs can be frozen. To bake, slice as above (from frozen) and add a little extra time onto your bake time.
To make the frosting:
In the bowl of a stand mixer, on low speed, combine the butter, icing sugar and 2 teaspoons of the lemon juice, mixing until the icing sugar is combined. Add the remaining 2 teaspoons of lemon juice and mix until no lumps of butter or icing sugar remain. If the icing is too thick, add a few drops of warm water at a time, until desired consistency is achieved.
Spread the icing onto the tops of cookies and garnish with lemon zest.