I call these cookies magic, because no matter how long you dehydrate them, 18 hours, 24 hours, 48…they never get done! Roxanne instructs, “dehydrate for 10 hours or until they have the desired crispiness. They should be hard yet still moist.”
How about crumbly and doughy? Does that count?
Part of being a cook is being willing to test. So to experiment, I put five cookies into the oven, a real oven, at 350, then left the rest in dehydrator Hell.
I baked the cookies for about ten minutes, well that did the trick. Sort of. They tasted good but when you bit into them, watch out: dry quicksand. I cranked up the dehydrator to the max and left them overnight. Well, they finally were done, but same problem: one bite and poof! Quicksand Cookies (pictured here with a glass of fresh Almond Milk). I guess that’s just the way the cookie crumbles…(sorry, folks I couldn’t get around using that one).
The next fine day I woke up with my back stiffer than ever. In fact, I could walk as long as I imitated a little old lady (an arthritic one) and added a limp to it. So attractive for my age.
I decided to get started on the next recipe: Pear Napoleon with Porcini Mushrooms and Artichokes but I needed to go to the store for ingredients. Since sitting (and sitting in a car seat) aggravated my back, I decided to ride my bicycle to the store. Wouldn’t that stretch my back out and give me some exercise?
I popped two Advil and hit the road. Riding works, but walking, standing, sitting and god forbid, bending over, are out. I hobbled out of the grocery store back to my bike. I got home and read paragraph 2 of the recipe outlining how I was supposed to marinate the raw artichoke hearts for 8 hours first. Doh! This makes me realize just how Neanderthal-headed I am. Why won’t I just read the damn recipes before I’m ready to make them?
Since I had invited Suey for lunch and needed it in 20 minutes, not 8 hours, I decided to cheat. I’ve only got five days left, at this point, I have to just DO IT! Riding my bike back to the frickin’ store a second time to get cooked artichokes, I reflected on how hard-headed I am. I remembered I’m not Neanderthal at all, no, it is Australopithecus to be exact. According to my anthropologist friend Stephanie, I am a throw back. She says my head is the exact shape of Australopithecus, complete with the ridge running across the top of my head. She’ll reach over and cradle my head in her hands and awe over just how much I look like an Australopithecus. I’ll even catch her, after years of us knowing each other, gazing over at me with her head titled, examining my skull. I know she is marveling at the prospect of actually knowing a prehistoric woman. A hard headed prehistoric woman.
So back I came with cooked artichoke hearts and recipe #47 was born. For the side I made “BLT” salads: beautifully ripe red heirloom tomato with chopped dulse (seaweed) which added the "bacon" flavor. Yum, it was delicious. I was the only one who liked it, but that has no relevance, for I am Woman Australopithecus!