It’s a known fact that I am awful when it comes to all things kitchen-related. I am notorious for messing up Minute Rice, for example. Anyway, when Pete and I were flipping through the latest issue of Everyday Food, he was super excited when we came across a recipe for “Chewy Caramel Mystery Cookies.” I decided to attempt to be a domestic girlfriend for a day and bake him some delicious cookies to come home to.
Let’s start with my trip to the grocery store. I went to Giant in search of several things—caramels (such as Kraft) being the main ingredient I was lacking. I spent well over an hour staring deep into the soul of the candy, baking and Halloween aisles in an attempt to find plain caramel candies. I didn’t want chocolate covered caramel or Werther’s Original, I just wanted caramel bits, people. I even pathetically trudged around the produce area in hopes of seeing some by the apples or nuts. No such luck. So, I did what any smart person would do—I drove to a candy shoppe. I figured if shop has an extra “pe” on the end, they must mean serious business and they sure as heck would sell plain caramel.
Nope. They sure as heck didn’t sell plain caramel. They had chocolate covered caramel, vanilla covered caramel, caramel stuffed inside things, but no actual plain caramel. The employee suggested I try making my own, to which I responded silently by giving him a mouth agape “What do you think I’m made of?” face and walked away (not before buying two Cow Tales because they are my favoritest).
I decided to make a trip to Walgreen’s (my least favorite pharmacy on the planet) and managed to find Werther’s plain caramels. Not caramel stuffed chocolate, but just plain caramel! I felt like I won the lottery and flailed. A lot. I had spent nearly two hours trying to hunt down caramel. Martha needs to strongly consider putting an asterisk next to ingredients that take a half of a tank of gas to locate.
Anyway, in case you want to try to make some of these cookies, here are the ingredients (if you can’t tell, I’m thrilled):
- 3 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
- 1 teaspoon fine salt
- 1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
- 1 cup packed light-brown sugar
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 cup caramels, such as Kraft (le sigh), about 20, halved
- 1 cup roughly chopped assorted miniature chocolate candy bars, such as Mr. Goodbar, about 16
- 3/4 cup small button-shaped chocolate candies, such as M&M’s, for decorating
Alright, so step 1. Preheat the oven to 350 with the racks in upper and middle thirds.
*As a side note, I’d like to point out that our oven is now functioning for the first time since we moved in over four months ago. “Why was your oven not functioning, Shannon?” Well, I’m glad you asked. Turns out that when we moved in, we had fossilized mice in the drip pan of our (the previous homeowner’s) fridge. The pan was impossible to remove, so we sold it on Craigslist like total scum (we are going to hell in a handbasket, but if we’re lucky, the basket will have delicious caramel candies inside of it).
Anyway, when we tried turning our oven for the first time, it smelled like rotting corpses and crayons. We tried to get to the bottom of the smell, but had no luck finding the source and the oven wouldn’t turn on to self-clean. We figured a gang of mice made a little home (judging from the abundance of sunflower seeds) and were mummified up in that shiz. So, we procrastinated on getting it fixed and have been creatively using our convection oven. Being the most perfect girlfriend that I am, I called some oven repair guys and got our oven back in working condition (and torched whatever mummified friends may have still been lingering). I even managed to haggle the guys to take $100 off, so I must have inherited some of my dad’s bargaining genes after all.
So, that being said, we have an oven again! We won’t have to deep fry a turkey for Thanksgiving, thank goodness.
Ok, back to the recipe. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and baking soda.
In a large bowl, using a fancy electric mixer (or the one your grandparents gifted you in the early 90s that they won using comp points from Atlantic City), beat butter and sugars on high until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Beat in eggs, scraping down bowl as needed.
With mixer on low, beat in flour mixture in three additions until combined. Beat in vanilla. Or if you’re me, flip out because some asshole only left a drop of vanilla extract in the bottle (that would be me) and improvise by replacing it with almond extract instead (that’ll taste the same, right? sigh).
Fold in caramels and candy bars. If you have to search for “how to fold” on YouTube, you might want to give up at this point. Or if you’re like me, you can just get distracted by the latest episode of America’s Next Top Model All-Stars and spend the next 20 minutes getting lost in the insanity of Tyra Banks while chopping candy.
Step 2 (Martha only makes two steps in her instructions, even though each step has like 50 sub-steps…). Using a 1/3-cup spring-loaded scoop, drop dough, 2 inches apart, on parchment-lined baking sheets. This is where I said “a spring-loaded whatchamadoozer?” and promptly decided I didn’t need one. Thus, the massively oversized cookies. The recipe supposedly makes 18 normal-sized cookies, but I made 13 giant-sized ones. Tomato, tomahto.
Anyway, bake that sheeeeeyit for 8 minutes.
Remove from oven; immediately press candies onto cookies, then rotate sheets and bake until golden around edges and set in centers, about 8 minutes. So, I am getting senile in my old age and seconds after pulling out the baking sheets, I forgot which way they were originally placed on the racks and couldn’t for the life of me figure out which way to rotate them. Yep.
Transfer cookies to wire racks to cool, or just shovel them into your face. I will admit, these things are majorly frumpy looking, but I thought they tasted pretty yumtastic. I saw one of them had been bitten into and asked Pete what he thought and he gave me a guilty “It tastes like ass, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings because you just spent over an hour trying to be domestic” face. Then he tried to persuade me that he actually likes them, but I know better. He made the face I make when I realize we bought the wrong type of toothpaste and instead of brushing my teeth with fresh, minty goodness, I have to spend the next month convincing my teeth that orange-flavored, cough-drop-y toothpaste is their new favorite thing.
Oh well, I guess I deserve some points for trying (insert defeated Eeyore face here _____). I hope someone else attempts this recipe out and lets me know if they have any luck finding caramels.