Cookies to get us through a cold weekend of performing

Theatre is awesome.  I love it, and I love doing it.  Though I’m not making performing my main focus for work right now, instead pounding out the pavement from a writing perspective, I do adore it.  And after 6 months of not being on a stage, I’d missed it.  A few months ago a producer of a theatre festival I’d worked at before in Provincetown, Massachusetts emailed me a script, asking if I’d bring it to the festival this year.  I got a director friend on board who drives me batty but is incredibly talented and has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met.  He pulled in an actor he likes, we rehearsed a few times (bashing out “what does this thing mean!?!?”), and then we had a show.

"I" meaning character, not "I" meaning actor Jacqueline

Yesterday I returned from Provincetown, which now seems “more like a dream than an assurance that my remembrance warrants” (100 points if you get that quote, it’s a subtle one).  Our piece went well: a very interesting, subtle, tough bit of theatre, it felt incredibly real and personal.  I felt in control, and calm, and strong.  I now adore the man who played opposite, who was strong and smart and calm as well.

Our piece was only ten minutes, which meant we had a total of 50 active minutes on stage the entire weekend.  So we spent our luscious spare time enjoying the gift that is turning off a bit.  I still did some work, but curled up by the fireplace in my room in the B&B they housed us in, watching snow falling magically on the water from the windows next to my bed.  I took long hot showers and drank coffee from a delicious little shop across the street.  I walked on the beach and wrote words in the snowy sand.  We stayed up late drinking and talking in our rooms until the wee hours.  I laughed.  I met some interesting people and breathed in deliciously fresh air and ate simply.

Provincetown Beach in the snow

Peace, love and a sweet, sweet life...

Bed and Breakfast across from the beach

Oh, and ate cookies.  A lot of cookies.  I had made a batch for the six-hour drive and between the three of us we ate almost 30 of them in four days.  These are the only survivors around to snap pictures of.

I adore these cookies, which I normally label as “kitchen sink cookies”.  It was a busy night before we headed out and I didn’t want to buy anything I didn’t have.  So some organic crunchy peanut butter, gluten-free oats, walnuts and raisins made it into the bowl.  These cookies are both soft and crunchy, hearty, relatively healthy and delightfully sweet.  I cut down the sugar from the basic recipe I use by 1/4 cup and would suggest knocking off another 1/4 cup if you’re not into too-sweet cookies.  These definitely aren’t too sweet for most tastebuds, but if they were less sweet I could have justified how many I ate a bit more.

OH, and I used Better Batter for my flour.  Normally I blend my own and would have put 1/2 cup brown rice flour, 1/2 cup tapioca flour and 1/4 cup millet flour for this mix.  But I had a box of it right there and was in a rush.  It was perfect.  Great flour, I’m a fan.

They’re delicious, promise, one of my favorites now.  Sustenance.  Sweet, sweet comfort.

Raisins and nuts and peanut butter oh my!

 Peanut Butter Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

Aka: Kitchen Sink Cookies

Makes 36

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup butter, soft
• 2/3 cup peanut butter (I used organic crunchy with sea salt from Trader Joes)
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup light brown sugar
• 1 1/4 cup flour (I used Better Batter)
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 2 eggs
• 2 cups gluten free oats
• 1/3 cups organic raisins
• 1/3 cup chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350°.
2. Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda and cinnamon in a small bowl.
3. Beat butter and peanut butter until fluffy.
4. Add sugars and beat until light and fluffy.
5. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat to incorporate.
6. Add flour and mix in thoroughly.
7. Fold in oats, nuts and raisins.
8. Drop with a cookie scoop onto ungreased cookie sheets and bake for 16 minutes or until slightly brown.  Cool slightly before removing from sheets.
9. Try not to eat 4 of them after a few glasses of wine.  If you do, make sure you’re curled up by a fire and watching old reruns of The Office at 3am. That’s classy, promise.