In New York exists an inevitable annual adventure. It's called the apartment hunt. Its annual because even if you are SURE you are going to stay in your lovely little brownstone, you can't help but just look around a bit to 'see whats out there' each time your lease is up for renewal. 'I'll just look at a few places, just see if I can get something better, something cheaper, something more me.'
Sure, it's fun for about the first three days when you can invision a possible future and fresh start in a new apartment. You get excited about the new paint you can put on your new walls and the fresh flowers you vow to replace each week on your new kitchen table in your new kitchen that will always remain sparkling clean becuase its a new apartment and with it a new you.
You start imagining your new neighbors, your new coffee cart guys, your new morning commute. You picture your lovely walk home each night and how it would feel to turn your key in that door before you and feel a rush of excitement knowing that your life is about the change for the better.
And it's kind of fun trampsing all over Brooklyn saying things like 'this neighborhood isn't so bad!' or 'I can totally see myself here!' or 'I saw a fist fight on my way here but that probably rarely happens on this block.' You can envision yourself a yoga-going, Gorilla Coffee sipping Park Sloper; an effortlessly cool Fort Greene bold-pattern-wearing activist; a skinny-jean wearing Williamsburg pseudo-gallery rat; a brave Clinton Hill flea market entrepreneur...
And then it starts to go quickly downhill. Because then you have to examine your options. You have to decide what it is you actually want out of life. A better neighborhood? A lower rent at the expense of the neighborhood? A better aparment at expense of the lower rent? What are you willing to give, what are you willing to take? You have to look at your finances, at your friendships, at your entire year ahead.
Suddenly Criagslist becomes the coldest, most terrible place your eyes could roam (seriously, can we get a better designer on that team!?). Everyone seems to be scamming you. A no-fee broker stands you up. A coworker gives you so much advice your head spins off its axis, Wylie Coyote style. You find yourself in tears over not just the apartment but every aspect of your suddenly meaningless, directionless, silly little life.
But THEN--just as you begin to strongly consider moving into the ol' subway tunnels and taking up residence as a famed mole person as your best option-- you wake up in the morning with puffy eye lids and that terrible feeling of post-cry exhaustion and open your email to the BEST POSSIBLE THING you could ever have recieved after the hell that you have endured in the recent past. Gwenyth Paltrow herself sent you the real recipe for Tate's Chocolate Chip Cookies(!!!!)
Sure, it's fun for about the first three days when you can invision a possible future and fresh start in a new apartment. You get excited about the new paint you can put on your new walls and the fresh flowers you vow to replace each week on your new kitchen table in your new kitchen that will always remain sparkling clean becuase its a new apartment and with it a new you.
You start imagining your new neighbors, your new coffee cart guys, your new morning commute. You picture your lovely walk home each night and how it would feel to turn your key in that door before you and feel a rush of excitement knowing that your life is about the change for the better.
And it's kind of fun trampsing all over Brooklyn saying things like 'this neighborhood isn't so bad!' or 'I can totally see myself here!' or 'I saw a fist fight on my way here but that probably rarely happens on this block.' You can envision yourself a yoga-going, Gorilla Coffee sipping Park Sloper; an effortlessly cool Fort Greene bold-pattern-wearing activist; a skinny-jean wearing Williamsburg pseudo-gallery rat; a brave Clinton Hill flea market entrepreneur...
And then it starts to go quickly downhill. Because then you have to examine your options. You have to decide what it is you actually want out of life. A better neighborhood? A lower rent at the expense of the neighborhood? A better aparment at expense of the lower rent? What are you willing to give, what are you willing to take? You have to look at your finances, at your friendships, at your entire year ahead.
Suddenly Criagslist becomes the coldest, most terrible place your eyes could roam (seriously, can we get a better designer on that team!?). Everyone seems to be scamming you. A no-fee broker stands you up. A coworker gives you so much advice your head spins off its axis, Wylie Coyote style. You find yourself in tears over not just the apartment but every aspect of your suddenly meaningless, directionless, silly little life.
But THEN--just as you begin to strongly consider moving into the ol' subway tunnels and taking up residence as a famed mole person as your best option-- you wake up in the morning with puffy eye lids and that terrible feeling of post-cry exhaustion and open your email to the BEST POSSIBLE THING you could ever have recieved after the hell that you have endured in the recent past. Gwenyth Paltrow herself sent you the real recipe for Tate's Chocolate Chip Cookies(!!!!)
Suddenly the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and all is well in the world! Apartment, schmapartment. Who needs 'em?! I bet Gwenyth never has to look for apartments on Craigslist. Hmrph. Ah well! Just comfort me with cookies. 'Nourish the inner aspect,' as dear Gwennie would say. Here ya go... :)
Tate's Chocolate Chip Cookies
YIELD: about 40 cookies
2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) lightly salted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
1 teaspoon water
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, beaten
2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (Nestlé really can’t be beat)
Preheat the oven to 350ºF.Whisk the flour, baking soda and salt together in a bowl. In another large bowl, mix the butter with a wooden spoon to lighten it a bit and then mix in the sugars. Add the water, vanilla and eggs to the butter mixture. Stir in the flour mixture until just combined and then fold in the chocolate chips. Using two soup spoons, drop the cookies 2" apart onto two nonstick or greased cookie sheets. Bake for eight minutes, rotating the sheets after four minutes. Remove the cookies to a wire rack to cool, and repeat the process with the rest of the batter.
4 comments:
Okay, feel free to hate me if I am being that rain cloud that comes to darken your little acre of happiness, but...that recipe is exactly the same as the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip cookie bag.
I tried apartment hunting this year and failed. Same place for me. Now I'm craving chocolate chip cookies!
its NOT about the recipe, William, its that GWENYTH Paltrow makes them and decided to put them in her Goop email and thats good enough for me. all chocolate chip cookies are pretty much the same, come on! otherwise they wouldnt be chocolate chip cookies! dont rain on my parade, here.
I LOVE GOOP!!
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