On Baking. Like I'm Prepubescent & Male.

Two things:


1. Don't use brownie mix in lieu of cake mix and vice-versa.
2. I eat like I'm prepubescent & male.

(Totally scarfed a glob of that raw brownie/cookie batter.)

The cookie recipe I tried to replicate comes from one of my fav-est blogs, The Daybook. (Click on that link!) I meannnnn, pretty no-fail, right?




But then you find yourself in Wegmans, East Ave (ugh). (NYC-sized grocery store without the NYC navigation know-how. #Ridicle .) Finally, you find the baking isle. Crammed in there with that annoying basket danging from your wrist and a 1/2 gal milk (that you shoulda' picked up in the front o the store, 'cept you can't 'member if East Ave Wegs stocks their merch as such...). And it hits you: cake mix or brownie? If your mind had been functioning 1hundo%, you'd've known to buy both. (Duh. Then you have the other in-stock just in case.) But instead, your rushed/crowded East Ave Wegs logic says, Well you like brownies better than cake, so if you get the wrong mix, just make the brownies. Knowing full-well that, no, you won't just make the brownies. That could be cement mix, you're turning those suckers into cookies.

Rolos-topper & some have Raz jam.

Long story short: caught it before disaster struck. The melting/solidifying batter didn't totes drip all over the oven. All I had to envision was myself alla Cupcake Wars trying to strategically solve a mess-up and boom: buttered some cupcake tins; those cookies turned into brownie-cakes. (#IdentityCrisis ?) Super chewy, super rich, super not what I craved. Edible nonetheless.

Moving on.

Gross.

I eat like sh ... noodles. Like a shnoodle-head. I'm embarrassed. Okay, a little proud that I can pack away more than all of my male coworkers at lunch, poss combined. (Poss.) But not proud that the most consistent staple in my diet has become Cola. Or what I like to refer to as sugar-pop. (Not to be confused with Sugar Daddy. Ew. Phrase grosses me out.)

My inspiration for being grossed-out (other than namesake to our left)??? Obnoxious belly-button pouch which, as caused by the Dough-boy's crop-top, pools around my mid-section. Really gross thing ... I can't stop squeezing and poking at it! (#Prepubescent .) Listen, giving up the Cola doesn't work, just doesn't. Think my adult plan of attack is:

5 - A - Day 

(thank you Wegmans Strive for 5 campaign)

Gave myself bit o a head-start by buying--investing--in that veg tray. ($$$/lazzzzzy.) Even still, between said tray and half a salad today, I've only ingested bout 3 servings. Unacceptable. How am I going to get to 5 a day, you ask?  I mean, I have no idea. But I am going to try, and I will report back! ...Suggestions welcome.