Generally, if you sense that something is wrong—I’m not just talking about in the kitchen, I’m talking about life here—that means something is wrong.
Like when I was being fitted for a bridesmaid dress last week and, yep, just like in the movie, my face started to sweat. I was going to vomit. I was going to vomit, and the seamstress was chatting gaily about the importance of Prayer Warriors and the inner-workings of freemasonry while pinning the bottom of my dress.
That was a literal gut feeling, but you have to trust figurative gut feelings, too. While I was making these cookies several weeks ago (I know, I need to be more diligent about updating this thing), I kept thinking, hmm. Batter isn’t supposed to look like clumps of dirt, and, Well, these balls of cookie dough feel like boulders, but I’m sure they’ll spread out just fine. Oh, that one’s crumbling. Happens all the time, let me just add some water or something…
In school, I was the kid who didn’t read the directions at the top of the page. That tendency carried over into my adult life.
Pudding cookies, y’all. Such lovely words to see side-by-side. I had to make them. So I went to the grocery store and got me some pudding. Just, you know, a generic box.
Here’s what you’ll need:
• 1/2 c butter, softened
• 2/3 c brown sugar
• 1/4 c white sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 egg (have you ever tried to crack an egg and ended up smashing the insides everywhere like a manic person? Sometimes I’m glad that I live alone)
• 2 tbsp. Hershey’s special dark unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 box instant chocolate pudding mix—3.5 oz. Here is where I went wrong. I added 6.5 oz. All pudding boxes are not created equal. Remember that, if you remember nothing else.
• 1 tbsp. water
• 1 c all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp. baking soda
• however many chocolate chips you feel compelled to add. I used one bag of Ghiradelli dark chocolate.
Using an electric mixer with a paddle attachment—good thing I was visiting home—cream the butter and sugar, then add in the vanilla and egg. Add in whatever else. Add in the chocolate chips. Seriously, how detailed do I have to get.
The source blog says to chill the dough for four hours if it hasn’t been formed into balls, and two hours if it has. Well, since that’s an INSANE request—sorry—I chilled mine, in balls, for about 45 minutes. Balls. To. The. Walls.
The source blog also noted that the dough would spread if not chilled long enough. I did not seem to have that problem. These cookies resembled literal lumps of coal and crumbled as soon as you took a bite like they were made of sawdust. Appetizing, right? I’m such a good food writer.
So, trust yer gut. And read directions. Those are my life lessons.