fandomhigh | Baking Workshop 6/26, Monday Morning

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cooking

Baking Workshop 6/26, Monday Morning

Piper smiles at the students as they arrive. "We're going to make chocolate chip cookies today. As always, I brought some samples."

"Next week, you get to bake whatever you want. I'd like each of you to find a recipe before then. They can easily be found online," she continues. She peers at all of them warily. "Try not to choose something that requires open flames."

Then she hands them a list of ingredients and instructions. "Feel free to ask questions if you have any."

Equipment Needed

Mixing Bowls

Measuring Cups

Measuring Spoons

Baking Sheets

Cooling Rack

Ingredients

2 sticks butter, softened

3/4 cup granulated white sugar

3/4 cup packed brown sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 extra large eggs

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

2 cups Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips

Instructions

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine butter, margarine, granulated sugar, and brown sugar in a large mixer bowl.

Add eggs one at a time, beating until fully incorporated.

Add vanilla extract and beat in.

Sift together the flour, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl.

Add to the wet mixture.

Stir in chocolate chips.

Drop by rounded tablespoons onto ungreased baking sheets.

Bake in the preheated oven for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.

Let stand for about 1 minute and remove from hot baking sheet to cool on rack.

[ooc: ingredients and instructions from here.]

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Willow was pretty much grooving along happily since chocolate chip cookies were her speciality.

This meant she had enough brainpower free to multitask cooking and talking.

"Hey, Anders. How's it going?"

Anders dropped the mixer blade he was trying to put into the appropriate socket (and yeah, he was trying not to think too hard about that particular figure of speech) and gulped. And ow, clattery noise.

"Willow," he rasped. "Hi."

Willow reached to pick the mixer blade up for him. "Are you okay?"

He gave her a bleary smile. "Kind of really hung over today. Not exactly my best idea ever."

Hey, just because there was a detail (and boy howdy, was there ever) missing between those two statements didn't mean they didn't make sense together.

Willow gave him a look of sympathy. "I've been there. You know, light beer packs more of a whallop than you'd give it credit for."

"We skipped right past that," Anders told her. "I have no idea what the frak it was that Carson was ordering, but wow, those tiny little glasses had some punch in 'em."

Hastily, he added, "Not that any of this was my idea in the first place. Nothing that happened last night was my idea." There was quite a bit of flailing to punctuate this statement.

"You're still recovering from Cally," Willow said as she mixed sugar into her butter.. "You're bound to do things that you might not normally do, just to help distract you from the pain."

Anders finally fumbled the blades into place and turned on the mixer to blend the sugar and butter in his bowl. "Or people," he muttered. "Because, oh Lords."

Convenient how the mixer was clattering against the sides of the bowl at the time.

Willow looked confused. "Did you say something?"

"What?" Anders shut the mixer off. "No, no, I didn't, uh. I said no people. In the cookies, that is."

"Oh," Willow said. "Um. Yeah. People in the cookies would be bad."

There could not have been more emphatic nodding from Anders. Naturally, this kind of hurt his head.

"So, uh. What've you been up to since we talked on Friday?"

"Soccer, mostly," Willow said. "I helped root for England. I like to think that's part of why they won."

Anders managed to crack an egg onto the counter. "Soccer, huh? I don't get the attraction, really, I swear. I mean, what is it about soccer players?"

Nope, not flailing. Really.

"I'm more into soccer fans," Willow said. "Or one in particular."

Anders smiled a little wistfully, and somehow managed to also flail and stir chocolate chips into his cookie dough at the same time. "That's awesome, honest. I am completely not sure how I feel about soccer myself though. I mean, all that running around on a huge pitch? Great for the stamina, but it seems to take, like, forever to score. There's all the running around, and back and forth, and all of a sudden out of the corner of . . . wham!"

"That's why I cheer when everybody else does," Willow said. "Or at least the folks rooting for the team I'm rooting for."

"I'm not sure what team I'm rooting for," Anders said absently. "I think I switched sides. Did I switch sides? Or was this sort of an official interleague weekend sort of thing that doesn't void my contract? Because . . . because I like my contract. And I'm not a fan of interleague play."

For some reason, greasing the cookie pan was really freaking him out. And yes, he completely switched sports there.

On the upside, not like Willow knew sports terms. "I'm rooting for England. It seems to be going well for me so far. Plus they're winning, so clearly my support matters."

"You're very supportive," Anders said, grimacing as his stomach churned in protest at the sight of the cookie dough glopping onto the pan. "You have, like, special support superpowers or something. Is England the popular team to root for around here or something?"

"England, Argentina, Sweden," Willow said. "Assuming Sweden's still playing. I'm actually not sure."

"Me neither. I don't pay as much attention to soccer as I do to baseball and wow, I'm really kind of wishing I didn't pay that much attention to baseball as I do all of a sudden." Anders made a big show of trying to rearrange the cookie dough balls on his baking pan, because hello, red ears.

"What's wrong with baseball?" Willow asked, totally not sampling her raw cookie dough except for the part where she was.

"I'm not sure," Anders sputtered. "I think that's the problem. Because there's liking sports, and then there's liking sports, and sometimes too much of a good thing can be really, really bad."

"You mean like if you do nothing but wear baseball hats, shirts, pants, underwear, and jammies all the time?" Willow said, trying to understand.

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