Christmas Disaster: A Photo Essay

According to my horoscope, one of the planets has been in retrograde for several months, which is supposed to explain why I feel like I’ve been walking in water, uphill, both ways. Yeah, I don’t understand it either. Last week the horoscope said the retrograde was over, and I was free to be creative and happy, and all that other made up stuff.

Foolishly I listened. I was trying to decide if I should make the M&M Christmas cookies of my childhood or add the green and red M&Ms to the brookies (half brownie/half chocolate chip cookie — and remember, it’s never called a crownie). I was feeling nostalgic, so I decided on the M&M cookies.

I still have the typewriter typed recipe card from my mother, which calls for 1 cup of shortening. I realized I didn’t have any, but the recipe says you can use butter or margarine. Great! I have butter.

I’m here to tell you that recipe card lied, and you absolutely cannot substitute butter.

Exhibit A:

I was on the phone with my sister while I was baking. “They look bad.”

“Let me see, they probably aren’t that bad.” I sent her the photo and her exact words were: “Ewwwwwww.” Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Now we started trying to problem-solve. I understand that baking is a science, but my grasp of the exact chemical interactions is fuzzy. “Maybe the oven is too hot for the butter,” my sister said. It was 375 degrees which is a little hot — 350 degrees is more common.

“Good idea!” I lowered the temperature, and opened the oven door a bit. 8 minutes later, I pulled this out of the oven. “Do they look any better?”

“Um, a little.” Meaning, no.

I mean they weren’t smooshed together like the first batch, but they still looked pretty bad.

And then a few minutes later, it somehow looked even worse, like they were trying to gain entry to the portal of holiday darkness.

My sister asked, “What is that glaze on them?” You see, in the alternate shortening universe, when you place fresh M&Ms on top of the dough, they stay on top and make a nicely decorated cookie. They are not supposed to look like they had been taken over by a fungi grown by an evil anti-Christmas villain bent on ruining peoples’ holiday. I mean look at this thing. You can practically hear the M&Ms crying out to be saved, or gurgling their last holiday breath as they get sucked into the portal.

“That one kind of looks like it’s smiling,” said my sister, trying to be helpful. “Maybe you need to chill the dough.” That’s it! Like those annoying “easy” refrigerator dough cookies. Yes, they are delicious, but my definition of “easy” isn’t making dough and then leaving it in the refrigerator for a day. If I’m making cookies, I want them that afternoon. Having to think a day ahead to make a cookie is not “easy.” It’s a pain in the ass, and you still don’t have a cookie after 45 minutes.

But I digress. Despite my general dislike of refrigerator cookies, I was excited — this could work! I left them in the fridge for 20 minutes, and they were definitely firm. I added parchment paper for good measure. About halfway through in the oven, things were looking up. “I think this is the one!”

This is how they are supposed to look! I almost took them out right them and there, but the center was still a bit liquidy, even for me, and my favorite way to eat a cookie is raw.

But then, the evil anti-Christmas villain struck again. This mess looked even worse than the first one.

Sometimes you can ruin how something looks, but it still tastes good. But honestly, how would you even go about eating this monstrosity? The kid came by, took a little corner off, and tasted it.

“Not bad, a little too sweet.” And there you have it. All three batches went into the compost bin.

But so I don’t leave you with Christmas cookie nightmares, here is a picture of what I should have made in the first place. It will be cut in delicious little squares, revealing a brownie underneath.

So whatever you are or aren’t celebrating, I wish you good baking with no sketchy substitutions or retrogrades, or better yet, gifts from friends who can bake not matter what the planets are doing.