Posts Tagged 'poetry'

Pipe Dream #196: To Wordsmith Unromantically – Coconut Oat Chocolate Chip Cookies

coc cookies 5

I couldn’t help it. I threw everything in my heart and cupboard into these cookies, and then I underbaked these by a mile. And I would do so again in an instant without regret. Because they were so happily fattily satisfying. Happily fattily, happily fattily. New favorite phrase. Just try it. You’ll like it. It reminds me of this song. Caroling, caroling.

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If I did these again, I would have included more coconut and oats, which got lost, texturally-speaking. You could try doubling the amounts below on them. I also used Ghiradelli milk chocolate chips. Normally, I don’t fuss about using high quality chocolate, but oh my, these chips are fat and taste so much better than cheap chips. Cheap chips, cheap chips.

coc cookies 2

coc cookies 4

Since I’m clearly into word-smithing today, I spent a few minutes rooting around for a baking-inspired poem to share with you, but, as with many poems I have read, I was too gagged-out by all the waxing on about failed relationships, so I couldn’t find anything really profound or great. Who knew that the search term “poems about baking” would yield such sappy drivel? A total misuse of all baking words ever.

Instead, I give you this short piece about cookies. Pay particular attention to the end of the first stanza. “Homemade is boss.” A great thinker of our time?

coc cookies 1

Happily fattily,

L

Coconut Oat Chocolate Chip Cookies

Inspired by averie cooks

Makes about 18 cookies

1 cup brown sugar, packed

1/2 cup coconut oil, softened in the microwave for 8 seconds

1 egg

1 tablespoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups flour

2 teaspoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup quick oats

1/2 cup flaked coconut

1/2 cup milk chocolate chips

Cream together the sugar, oil and egg in a stand mixer for about three minutes. Scrape down the bowl, then beat in the vanilla. Add the flour, cornstarch, baking soda and salt, and mix until just combined, then stir in the oats, coconut and chocolate chips.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Form the dough into a ball, wrap in cling film and stick in the freezer while the oven preheats. Using a medium cookie scoop, scoop out 18 cookies, baking about 9 at a time on a parchment lined sheet. Bake for 7-10 minutes (I left mine on the softer side at 7.). Remove from the oven and let cool on the sheets for a few minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely. Best served in rhyme.

The Inexpressible Vocabulary of Sorrow

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The Inauguration featured a poem that I don’t remember the name of by a dude I don’t really care about. In fact,  I didn’t even listen to most of his work, but one line stuck out to me.

“The inexpressible vocabulary of sorrow.”

You are right, man. Some things aren’t covered by words. I think music puts a vocabulary to sorrow, and also joy.

From a family that has seen both,

L

christmas 2012 9

christmas 2012 7

christmas 2012 8

Favorite Shots: I, Too, Dislike It

I wrote this intending to follow these instructions early the next morning. I barely understood them 12 hours later.

Poetry

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all
this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
that can dilate, hair that can rise
if it must, these things are important not because a

high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because
they are
useful. When they become so derivative as to become
unintelligible,
the same thing may be said for all of us, that we
do not admire what
we cannot understand: the bat
holding on upside down or in quest of something to

eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf
under
a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that
feels a
flea, the base-
ball fan, the statistician–
nor is it valid
to discriminate against ‘business documents and

school-books’; all these phenomena are important. One must
make a distinction
however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the
result is not poetry,
nor till the poets among us can be
‘literalists of
the imagination’–above
insolence and triviality and can present

for inspection, ‘imaginary gardens with real toads in them’, shall
we have
it. In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,
the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is on the other hand
genuine, you are interested in poetry.

-Marianne Moore

Favorite Shots: Trees, A Necessity (Also feat. Unwritten Poem)

Trees, A Necessity, Not A Nicety

If I wrote a poem about this picture, that would be that title. Aren’t you glad you follow this blog?

K cool.

L

Favorite Shots: Perfect Fit

My Friend Joyce and Our Photographic Endeavorings, A Poem

Joyce is Swiss.

Joyce is wee.

Joyce fits in this

While I perch in tree

(a small one).

Joyce lays down flat

And I angle ‘round.

She yells like a cat

When poked by a mound

(of dirt).


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