Monster Cookies

After a wildly successful fundraising campaign ($2,500+ to the Komen Breast Cancer Foundation!) my friend Lauren packed her bags and trekked westward. The agenda for her trip? Get a taste for The Oregon Life (see photos) and to run a half marathon. 

The Oregon Life:

.::The End::. 

I have this thing I do. When people come to town, I bake for them. Lauren's ingredient request? Peanut butter. As you may have noticed, I'm not the biggest fan of peanut butter in my sweets (I guess you could say I'm a purist), as I've featured it on this blog...well...never.

My challenge: bake with peanut butter. Be basically healthy (13.1 is no joke). Be delicious.

This has all the intentions of a trek bar or trail mix. So by value of the transitive property, this is basically healthy. Basically. You've got your peanut butter. You've got your oats. And you've got your M&Ms. The picture of health.

The secret ingredient for outrageous monster cookies is actually an the omission of a key ingredient. Flour. That's right. Don't bother with that mess. You're lookin' at flourless cookies. And the combination of the peanut butter and butter and oats make these delightfully chewy.

The Story of My Basil Plant

Upon moving to Oregon, I wrote a list of exciting west-coast-ardly things I'd get to do as an bona fide Oregonian.

- Get a bike (check!)

- KEENS! (very recent proud owner.)

- Become a connoisseur of all things beer (highly debatable.)

- Plant a garden. 

I had dreams of whimsically wandering out to my garden - clad in my Keens and a gardening hat, braid in my hair while humming a Decemberists song - where I would harvest fresh herbs to season my organic dinner. Maybe even plant a flower bed or two. You know. To put in my hair.

Enter reality.

I don't have a yard. Not even a plot of outside land to make a raised bed. Nevertheless, I made due and crafted a kitchen window-stand to support my boxed herbs. Hooray! The garden dream lives on!

Re-enter reality.

Turns out a lot of these herbs need 6-8 hours of direct sunlight. That's precisely the kind of sunlight that a kitchen window just can't accomodate. I also don't think it helps that we've had an unseasonably cloudy summer here in Portland. (Aside: I keep hearing that term. Unseasonable. Last spring, last winter, last fall, last summer. All "unseasonably" cloudy, rainy, and cold. I think these Oregonians have selective recollection. Slash are straight up lying to themselves.)

Once upon a time, my basil plant was an impressive full bloom from Trader Joe's. I should have known that "you get what you pay for", because, before long, my $2.99 massive basil plant was overgrown, growing at an alarming 45 degree angle, and rapidly killing itself.  This is what she looked like after a few weeks.

My basil plant crossed me.

And when you cross me...you get cut.

And pureed with nuts and garlic. And drowned in olive oil. And pureed some more. And tossed with pasta. And eaten. Mua. Ha. Ha.

::Shortly after this blog post was authored, what was left of aforementioned basil plant was attacked by aphids and died. The end.::

Round Two: Lemon Poppyseed Muffins

My younger brother and his girlfriend are for lack of a better word, um, AMAZING, (does this make me bland? uninspired? unoriginal? I'm sure there are better words out there, but I just might be bland, uninspired, unoriginal, etc.) and spent their entire spring break schlepping across the great U-S of A to come visit me. On the agenda: blend in with the hipsters in Portland (success? debatable.), watch our alma mater embarass Duke and carry home the outright ACC championship (we won't discuss the ACC tournament bloodbath that ensued), "shred the pow" on Mount Bachelor, and personally taste test far too many local microbrews. After this week-o-fun, all I can say is: MY waistline is furious. (Name that movie and, Congratulations!, you officially recognize my new favorite movie.)

In the midst of all this Oregonian hipster, outdoorsy, boozy, hippy fun, I didn't even have time to make my brother's favorite treat. I know. The nerve. And it's such a shame, because I whipped these up promptly after he left, and they are so easy and equally delicious. This one's for you, George and Ashley. I'll be sure these get "taken care of" in your absence.

Rolling Out the Welcome Wagon

This past month, I had the honor of hosting a slew of visitors. Family, friends, fiancés, all hailing from the east coast, getting their hippie fix for 2011. True to form, I showed each visitor my appreciation in the best (slash only?) way I know how. You guessed it. B-b-b-bakin'. 

First up: my best friend Jessica and her fiancé Ben, fresh off the plane from Raleigh, North Carolina. And for you I choose.....Sour Cream Coffee Cake. This is my mom's best friend's recipe, and I am not exaggerating when I say it changed my life. Well...maybe I'm exaggerating. But it's that good. What do you say we eat it while engaging in a riveting Mario Wii session? Yes? Perfect.