I've devised a scheme for myself to diet without dieting for a bit. This involves several common sense rules, such as eating fruits and/or vegetables at every meal, not buying crap at the supermarket, and, all importantly, not finishing Charlie's food just so it doesn't go to waste. The other biggy, for me, is to stop baking sweets unless they're leaving the house. As I've said many times before, the insane men in my house will eat entire loaves of fresh-baked bread in one sitting, but have little interest in cakes and cookies, so I end up eating the entirety of any sweet on my own. Not good.
I broke my baking rule this week. Dorie made me do it. A lifetime of baking gives you a really strong grip. You should have seen her twisting my arm.
Cocoa Sables (page 402 of Around My French Table) are shortbread cookies. Dorie aptly describes the texture as "sandy." I'm so sure that this is the correct description for these cookies because Charlie held one in his humid little fist for a good forty-five minutes, until it disintegrated all over my couch. It definitely felt like I was scrubbing sand off of the cushion. Buying a dark brown couch was the smartest move we ever made.
I resent cookies that don't go immediately from mixing to baking to eating. I don't like waiting for three hours for the dough to chill. It makes me surly. I became even more surly when every stinking slab of dough that I sliced off the roll crumbled apart. Sandy, indeed. I suspect that I didn't chop my optional chocolate chunks (is chocolate ever really optional? Come on, now.) finely enough, and that it bungled my slices.
The second roll of dough sits patiently in my freezer. Must.....resist! For a little while.
Conclusion: Loved them.