My beloved is a wonderful man. He is smart, sophisticated and he has the patience of Job. (He has put up with me and all of my narishkeit all of these years!) But, he also has his limitations. He cannot do laundry to save his life, (not a real problem because I kind of like my clothes to come out of the washer the same colour that they went in!) he isn't much of a sports fan, (he likes to watch the games, but he can do without the jock-talk!) and he isn't much of a cook. Now in his defense, he has improved greatly over the years. He now can sustain himself on a hell of a lot more than just scrambled eggs and cereal, as was his practice when we first tied the knot. Today he is a whiz at pasta sauces, he can grill anything and do it with flavour and panache, and he can whip up a mean taco. He cannot, however, despite his greatest boastings and protestations, BAKE!!! Baking is strictly my domain in our house and he knows it.
Now, both the Husband and the Progeny have spent a great deal of their lives complaining that while it is true that I bake some mean-ass cookies, very few of them are designated for them. Most of what I bake goes elsewhere; either for parties, Oneg Shabbat after services, or as host gifts. So, I thought that I was providing a special treat for the Husband when, before I left to return south, I left him some pre-baked oatmeal raisin cookies. Here is how it goes. I put together the dough. I pre-form all of the cookies into individual balls. I place almost 3 dozen of said cookie balls into a very large Ziploc freezer bag and I freeze them. I explain to the Husband that all he has to do is take a few out whenever he is in the mood for fresh-baked treats and bake them in a 300 degree oven for 22 minutes. He is excited, thrilled at the prospect and, if I might say, quite grateful. Then the shit hit the fan!!!
He came down here to spend a few days of fun and frolic in the sand and sun. (Oh, grow up people!! We have been married for almost 24 years and my kids read this!!) While here, Twin Son's Better Half, knowing that he would be returning in time for Shabbat, invites him over for Friday night dinner. He graciously accepts, but he worries that since he will be returning late Thursday evening, he won't have enough time to pick up a suitable host gift. (We were raised right!!) Then it hits him like a bolt of lightning from the sky! Why not take our dear friends fresh baked cookies. Before he leaves, he repeats the baking instructions as he remembered them, to me.
Husband: "So, I bake them at 350 degrees for 22 minutes."
Me: "Only if you want scorched disks suitable for usage as hockey pucks!"
Husband: "Well, I can't remember!"
Me: "300 degrees for 22 minutes."
Husband: "Should I defrost them first?"
Me: "Only if you want them to be edible."
Husband: "For how long?"
Me: "Until they aren't the consistency of golf balls."
He gets home last night and proceeds to follow MY directions (not without a phone call or two, mind you!) and the cookies come out perfect. (At least he says that they are perfect.) Now here is the clincher. He tells me that the cookies that HE baked are great. HE BAKED????? He slid the f*&^#$g things into the oven. The oven baked them. He would have had to expend more effort with Pillsbury dough!!!! He is now strutting around like Mr. Betty-f*&^#$g Crocker, telling anyone who will listen about his culinary prowess. He started this war of words, so I am now finishing it by telling the entire blogospere of his duplicity. Twin Son and the Better Half, I hope that you know him better than this. I hope that you of all people can recognize my oatmeal raisin cookies (a recipe that I attribute to my mother, by the way!) and let the Husband know that he can't get away with such nonsense. Oh, and Husband--I WIN!!!!
Shabbat Shalom to all who observe!