Let It Be Told

I've been thinking about you for years now. Twelve years, to be exact.

Twelve years ago, I realized that fortune cookies were the absolute coolest thing to make, and I hunted down dozens of recipes for them. I copied down my favorite one onto a green index card and tucked it into my "right-now" pile of recipes. That is, I have a recipe box, and I have recipe binders, and recipe books, and I have recipes in every room of the house, but my right-now pile is a stack that I keep in the kitchen, between the sink and the oven, held up by a cigar box, on the left side of of the enamelware pan, which is on top of the silver breadbox that holds the coffee. These are the recipes that I want to make soon -- the things I am really excited about creating, the things that sound really incredible, or really interesting, the things I plan on making within the week, or within the month. As I prepare them, the recipes go back into the box, or back into the binder, or, sometimes, directly into the rubbish bin. This one, though? The fortune cookie recipe? It's been in the right-now pile for twelve years.

O, fortune cookies! You pestering beast!

So, finally, I did it. On New Year's Eve. What a perfect treat for my New Year's Day guests! What a delightful way to ring in the new year! What a hoot! That is, it would have been a treat, and a delight, and a hoot if they had actually worked out. Let me tell you this now: they're kind of a pain in the ass (if you couldn't guess). As directed by the recipe, I started folding them in that exact same second that I pulled them out of the oven, and, in doing so, I was painfully reminded of the time I tried to make candy canes, twisting that horrible molten sugar as quickly as possible while it was still pliable. The whole time, I cursed my scorched fingers and shouted out to anyone who would listen, What kind of idiot tries to make FORTUNE COOKIES?


I learned many things that day, such as:

This fortune cookie recipe I have sucks.

Unless it was my fault. Which is entirely possible.

The batter is really runny. As in, imagine trying to spoon tablespoonfuls of milk onto a cookie sheet.

You have to use a Silpat, and even then, the cookies stick to it.

You will ruin your Silpat trying to get the cookies off of it.

You will get angry.

The recipe did not make "2 dozen" cookies. It made ten. Ten!

When you fold them, they crack. A lot.

You should go inside the oven, fold them while you are in there with them, and then remove them.

Do not try to make these cookies when anyone is watching. You will embarrass yourself.

There is a reason that fortune cookies are sold in stores.

Despite the pain and anger, they taste really amazing and making the fortunes is really, really fun.

Basically, I need to try this whole thing again. With a different recipe. With a new technique. And, perhaps, I should wait another twelve years.

I'll keep you posted.

(O! And I would like to take a moment to acknowledge today, January 13, is the day that this lil' ol' blog turns TWO. I should bake it a cake! Happy anniversary, little blog!)