This is the first year I attempted to do some real Christmas baking. Usually I intend to do a little something, but I get busy and lazy and it never happens. However, two years ago I decided to bake cookies for all my neighbours. I had five tins of chocolate dipped shortbread cookies that never left our house. In fact, by the end of the week I had devoured them all. FIVE TINS! There was so much butter in those cookies they should have come with a health warning. In the end I did those poor people a favor by taking that bullet. Sure, I gained six pounds and it probably took a couple of years off my life, but it's Christmas! It's no time to be selfish.
This year I baked like I was making up for lost time. In five days I made egg-nog cookies, sugar cinnamon cookies, chocolate dipped shortbread (ah, we meet again...), rice crispy squares in festive shapes, and brownies so chocolaty that they're obscene. I still have a couple of more things to make. Rum balls, because what is Christmas if you're not at least attempting to get blitzed on rum balls? Lastly, what has sadly become a favorite tradition at my house, Christmas Pooh. I feel this needs an explanation. When I first made these they were called Snowy Chocolate Crescents. When I shaped mine they didn't exactly look crescent shaped. They had a distinctly un-crescent shape look about them. Well, if you can't beat them join them, right? I gave in and just coiled them up! Yum! I've actually brought them to people's homes! They look mortified and confused when I hand them the box. Don't drink and bake people! It's a dangerous combination.
As of yet, I haven't eaten everything. I gave a good amount of it away. The rest I've stored in cookies tins. These tins are sitting amongst a sea of empty cookie tins. I guess it's kind of like Schroeder's Cookies. I don't know which tins have cookies in them and which don't without opening the tins. So they simultaneously are all full and empty of cookies; as long as I don't look anyways. Hmmm....I wonder if I do eat them if I am and am not six pounds heavier as long as I don't look at the scale. That sounds like pretty sound logic to me. Gosh, am I the first person to realize this?