Cookies-in-a-box

There’s something special and necessary about cookies-in-a-box.

packaging really does make a difference, and while I’m apt to throw away the idea of throw-away packages, I’m still equally leaning towards a boxed-up-cookie-with-string, tied to the future-istic thought of reusing said box.

It can be done, right?

Here are my latest cookies-in-a-box. A brief stop to the Liberty bakery on Main meant my mom had six new hot-cross-buns and I had half a dozen, a mixed bag (in a box) of pecan, shortbread raspberry birdsnests, and classic, though hard, choco chip.

Liberty bakery is one of my favourite spots, offering hand-made lemonade and iced tea in pitchers, to be consumed on rickety but quaint-cute tables in the brief moments of warm sunshine which patter through our gray gray city.

One true cookie diet?

The idea of cookies supressing hunger is an interesting, counter-intuitive one, well, kind of. The idea of cookies as a meal replacement is certainly viable, as the choice sometimes is made for you after the boxes have been slain infront of you in a flurry of cookie haze / self-denying daze.

But, that is accidental meal replacement, brought on through either lack of discipline or far too much, the pressure finally buckling beneath your sugary-starved, delicious mind.

The idea of a ‘cookies only diet’, surprisingly doesn’t appeal, even to me—and starving yourself thin through cookies seems especially strange.

But perhaps you should simply see it for yourself.

Hazelnut Chocolate Death

 

Thank you Jackie for the incredible find.

Sometimes I think that life is just an endless array of horrible, horrible darkness.

Just kidding. But if you do, then you should really make some of these in an attempt to turn it all around.

cookie coasting

i found a very new love—though i’ve yet to quite see it with my own eyes.

the ‘occupied‘ store in gastown (vancouver) is a store completely devoted to the idea of kawai. overwhelming, soul shaking cuteness.

i fell in love with a few things right away on their website—monsieur tse tse and his embroidered heart, sad clouds (lightning! rain!) and of course, hakoinu, (box-dog) who was created by a young boy and his father, as an apartment-pet-substitute. hakoinu has a space in which to place photographic memories of the places visited together. so when hakoinu is alone, he can remember his fun times with the boy.

aw.

anyways, of course ‘kitchen wares’ also took my notice, and here they are, the cookie coasters.

From the site’s description:

This fun coaster reminds me of those smelly erasers we had when we were kids! They don’t smell like cookies, but they sure are cute as a real cookie!

Available in chocolate or vanilla cookie.

It is 4 inches around.

cookie face

 

“what does it mean when you dream that you give birth to the men you lust after and want to eat their cookie faces?”

thanks, sabha mohtasham, + the flight of the conchords.

breakfast ?

Shortbread + pecans + block of chocolate in the cupboard + heart-shaped cutters =

breakfast?

the impossiblity of a white (cookie) couch

cookies have caused damage as of late—or possibly, cake, as i have created a sort of blotchy circular mess on the beloved family couch, KLOBO.

weighing in with a cover of cotton and a filling of buttery popcorn, Klobo is one hundred and fifty dollars of exquisite living space cushioning. a blob of something chocolate-looking careened onto the velvty white outer layer of Klobo’s heart, and now, after attempting to scrub it clean, it looks as though someone relieved themselves in a space wherein only comfort should be obtained.

nothing given, only received.

KLOBO’s reverse motto.

in theory…

i’ve started this morning with a few sticks of FRAN—the remnants of a gathering past.

the weekend’s beginning asks me, “what cookies will be bought-made? (but never sold…)”

and—

what shall be given—but also received?

(COOKIE’s standard ideal). Upright.

cookies as (or with) diplomacy.

Obama Woos G.O.P. With Attention, and Cookies

WASHINGTON — Can the shrill tone of Washington be changed through a presidential act of contrition? Or, perhaps, an enticing platter of oatmeal raisin cookies?

Of course complicated issues can’t necessarily be solved by Oatmeal Raisin, or even Linzers.

But, it seems like Cookies As Diplomacy is starting to take shape.

tummy-ache

Ttoday, cookies were booming, in every direction—there was a plate with Linzers ! at my place of work, which was exciting. Although, these Linzers contained suspicious hints of nutmeg and gingerbread-esque, plus nutty, tastes. it was still a Linzer though, all the same.

My coworker asked if the Linzer contained googly eyes, as seen on this site, but unfortunately it did not. It was concluded that it was indeed a case of TET (Tough Economic Times) — 

“Googly eyes are always the first to go.”

Anyways. so here I am, at 10:37, post day, and have this sort of incredibly painful ache in the tummy—there is cake in the fridge, there is Fran, the cousin of Pocky, in my cupboard, there is fondue above the stove, chocolate in a giant block, truffles ready for melting.

But the sharp, knife-like pains beg me to stop, to eat clear foods, to drink clear liquid, to (briefly) abstain from the buttery, delectable, sweet, sweet crumbs that fall.

paying homage.

Cookie Monster.

When I was a little kid I had a giant cookie monster, he was at least as high as my waist, he had large googly eyes, and sat silently in my room, dreaming everyday of cookies.

My computer also has cookies, which I often delete in order to prevent illicit searching or scanning of computer, which I’m not sure even happens, but it’s creepy enough that Google remembers me and Hotmail asks me if it’s okay to forget.  

Every time.

Cookie Monster simplified what a computer should really be about, and when he sat in my home, we too, had a C64. Or the like.

Being in front of a computer all day, ironically, creates the need to eat sugar in the middle of the day, just to kind of keep awake, just to barely stay alive. And for this reason, and for the reason of the computer’s blandness, I think that CM’s right when he says,

“I bet computer cookies taste a lot like oatmeal.”