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Caramel Pear Cookies

What happens when you replace almost all the butter with applesauce in your cookie recipe? You end up with little muffins/cakes instead. It could have also been the fact that I was a bit short on flour. Or that I was too lazy to separate the egg yolk, it calls for one egg and one yolk. In my defense what was I going to do with one egg white afterwards?!

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This whole thing began when my dad gave me a bag of fruit to take home, followed by a promise to buy me more pears. I looked at him and said, I don’t like pears. He said, fine, just eat these ones then. I shrugged, this was one I would not win.

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And so they sat there, two sad looking pears in my fridge. I thought I would find a use for them. Initially I wanted to make a pear compote, but then I would have nothing to eat it with lest I go out of my way to acquire some pancakes or waffles or good toast. Plan b: search Pinterest for pear recipes. I came across one for caramel pear cookies that seemed simple e

nough.

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It was not a good day in the kitchen from the start. I had (still have, actually) no idea where to get caramel bits. So I used the next best thing: Skor bits. It’s kind of sort of the same thing? In trying to be healthier I decided to forgo butter and use applesauce instead. Everywhere I read though said to swap out half the butter for applesauce. I, being the “creative” type that I am, decided to ignore that advice. Instead adding only 1/4 the amount of butter (actually, it was margarine) and the rest was applesauce. In the recipe it calls for melting the butter, but it felt futile to melt 3 tablespoons of margarine, and the applesauce was mushy enough to cover it. It looked like a gross sopping mess.

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The end result: it was like cake batter not cookie dough. Which was not a total surprise, as the internet had warned me that applesauce can do that. I used the star baking molds from that time I tried to make star shaped shortbread cookies otherwise it would have been a catastrophic mess of batter everywhere.

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In the end: they are nowhere near cookies. They are little muffins without the muffin top. And tasty, which in the end is all that matters. Even if my final result was nowhere near the intended result.DSCN1468

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Persian With A Side of Insufferable

 

Living in a such a large city, it is inevitable that one will encounter annoying people.It is one thing to have to put up with an idiot while you are stuck on the bus, at least then you can put in your headphones and crank it all the way up. But when you are eating the city’s best Persian food at Pomegranate and you are stuck in a small corner of the restaurant next to the world’s most infuriating people… well then. It is simply insufferable.

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To start we split an appetizer: charred eggplant with whey and walnuts and onions that came with bread for dipping. It was ok. I had a sip of Brent’s doogh drink, which was weird. It was watered down yogurt and fizzy and not my cup of tea. The mains we ordered were both stews that came with rice on the side. In all honesty the food was not that outstanding. It was a nice change and it was tasty, but not crave-inducing. I found the pomegranate in the chicken (fesenjaan) a bit too much. It was rather funny watching Brent bite into what he thought might be a lamb’s eyeball in his stew. The real winner of the dinner was the dessert: the shortbread cookies were amazing! The deep-fried and covered in rose water candy was a bit heavy and greasy towards the end but still delicious.

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As mentioned dinner came with a show. We had to listen to this idiot go and on about how he “wants to make his mark on the world” and how he “wants to change the world and make a difference”. The real kicker was that he was a total dummy. He had an idea to help out people in crisis, and when he found out that such a program was already in place it made him “really depressed”. He wanted to work with youth/teenagers… aged 22-28. It was all I could to not turn to him and stab him with my fork. At some point he mentioned the film American Psycho and wanting to take his friend to dinner in NYC a-la the movie, the girl with him just nodded, completely oblivious. It was also infuriating listening to him talk about his “world travels” and how much he “hates airports”. The poor girl with him was just too polite to tell him to shut up. I hate people sometimes.

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At least most of the time when I am stuck in a restaurant with insufferable people within earshot shooting their mouths off, there are so many of them that they all kind of meld together into a very annoying but importantly: indecipherable, white noise. This was not the case here. Pomegranate’s cute & cozy, homey atmosphere worked against them greatly that night.

I think we might start booking tables for 4 from now on. Or reserving the whole restaurant for a private function: getting to eat in peace.

 

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