Because I didn’t make enough Oreo truffles last week, and certainly because Craig’s co workers haven’t eaten enough butter, sugar and chocolate lately, I made a batch of cookie dough truffles on Tuesday.
Raw (egg free) cookie dough, scooped into balls and dipped in chocolate.
In the words of my beloved Ina Garten, how bad can that be?
Who doesn’t love a little cookie dough action? Even I, the highly neurotic housewife who is generally afraid of things containing raw eggs, have been known to sneak a taste or two of raw cookie dough. It’s like a magnetic force, or something.
These truffles look good (except for the ugly ones I had trouble dipping) and they certainly look like they taste great. I mean, really… cookie dough + chocolate. How could it get any better?
But honestly, they’re just okay.
Hopefully Craig’s co workers will enjoy them, despite my lukewarm impression.
So on Tuesday night, when I was dipping truffles for Wednesday treat day, I turned to Caroline, and said ‘good news, dad doesn’t have to go to work tomorrow (Wednesday), so you don’t have to go to the gym with me.’
In fact, sometimes I find myself wondering how I’ve managed to successfully keep Caroline alive all these years.
I’m not one for new years resolutions, but I’m thinking some sort of brain sharpening supplement might be a wise purchase for the upcoming new year. Clearly the steady stream of butter, sugar and chocolate I’ve introduced my body to is working its magic no more.