Recipe For Chocolate Chip Cookies
Chocolate Chip Cookies
¾ cup sugar
¾ cup packed brown sugar
1 cup butter, softened
2 large eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 375 degrees
Get a large bowl for
¾ cup of sugar
¾ cup of packed brown sugar
1 cup of softened butter
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
And 2 large beaten eggs
Mix by hand in large
Get a small bowl for
2 ¼ cups all- purpose flour
1 teaspoon of baking soda
And ¾ teaspoon of salt
Stir all ingredients together in large bowl
Drop dough in rounded tablespoonfuls
On to ungreased cookie sheet
Bake the cookies 8 to 10 minutes
Or until light brown
Remove from cookie sheet
And then enjoy
poem by Kelsey Isham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pancakes and With Baked Salmon
I do have this 'thing'
For my own homemade pancakes.
And with baked salmon!
What a treat to eat.
You are not going to get any that I make!
But here is the recipe.
You can do it just like me.
First beat an egg in a mixing bowl,
Add a tablespoon of baking powder.
A third teaspoon of salt
A full teaspoon of sugar.
And about a third cup of vegetable oil.
Beat that all together.
Now you want to add the flour.
About a cup...maybe more...
If you're serving more than two people.
I choose to use evaporated milk.
At least a cup.
Whip all this stuff up.
Heat that frying pan or griddle.
Medium to hot.
Add some olive oil if you got it.
Vegetable oil will do.
With a slice of butter added too!
OH! I almost forgot the salmon!
I use salmon steaks.
Preheat the oven 350 degrees.
After rinsing the salmon...
Rub with apple vinegar.
Salt and pepper if you please.
Lay on tin foil since this is what I use.
Add butter and a bit of oil!
Enclosed that salmon within the foil.
Baked twenty minutes.
That's all it takes!
ENJOY!
Use syrup on the pancakes.
Perhaps a little Vadalia Onion Dressing,
On the salmon.
And if you don't like this...
You definitely will love,
My brown sugar/mustard roasted chicken.
But I'm not sharing that right now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ogre [2]
I had bought two-dozen eggs,
some baking soda, baking meal
along with the other groceries,
beef, chicken, lamb,
vegetables and fruit
and had forgotten
to buy icing sugar
on your command.
I carried the groceries
from the car
and placed them
in the pantry, the fridge,
or where ever they belonged.
You were baking cake
and preparing some cookies
and like a blizzard
went through the shopping bags
searching for items.
Demented, for me forgetting
icing sugar, the ogre
awakened in you
and I saw it peering
through your eyes.
First a glass mixing bowl
went flying to the ground
shattering into pieces of glass
and in shock fascination
I watch you
put a plastic bowl
on a red hot stove plate
before slamming it
right into my face.
I screamed in terror
and tried to wipe
sizzling molten plastic
from my forehead
and cheeks,
(thanking God you missed
my eyes) .
You screamed something
smashing the eggs on the floor
and then somehow
the ogre went back
to the cave
where it was hiding in you
and I knew
what the word maniac
in manic bipolar depression meant.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cookie Crumbs
Cookies will save the world.
Cookies have saved the world.
Thirteen of them landed on the moon
They called them the Apollo 13 of cookies
Chocolate Chip built the pyramids
And Macadamia painted the Sistine Chapel
The Nile runs with milk
Because the sun is an Oreo
And the sun is the Nile's favorite
Favorite cookie
Superman defeated no one
Super Sugar Cookie did all that
Double Chocolate Jackie Robinson
Was the first Afro-American to play baseball in the majors
And Oatmeal Raison was the first president
Who couldn't tell a lie
Girl Scouts sell cookies
In an effort to save the world
Because that's what cookies do best
I wish I could write more
But my cookie is gone
I ate it while I wrote this poem
My inspiration is now in my tummy
I think we all could save the world
If the world ran on cookies
But now there's nothing left of mine but
Crumbs
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
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Poem On A Sunday #1
nothing is really useless.
even those who only wait, has that function.
waiting.
and it is a sacrifice, just imagine
you, at the train station,
wanting to leave and be somewhere else,
yet you do what you are assigned to
do that whole week,
waiting. It saddens me.
I tremble to some extent.
Like a heavy thud
of impatient feet, throwing away the shoes
that serve no purpose.
on the other hand, i assure you,
everything has a purpose.
the cup, the saucer, the teaspoon
and the white
sugar & the coffee,
they blend and you take your day
sipping.
in your world,
there are lapses, something glitches
you see slipping moments,
and you sigh.
ah, do not worry,
they also do what you are supposed to do,
they serve us &
you serve them
a bowl of cherries, a can of laughter,
a nugget of wisdom,
and time
this time, we note what ponder can do,
what blankness can paint
what seeds can sorrow grow?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl
Nina simone
I want a little sugar
In my bowl
I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
I could stand some lovin
Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I could fix things up
So theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on, save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
Well I want a little sugar
In my bowl
Well I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
You been acting strangely
Ive been told
Move me daddy
I want some sugar in my bowl
I want a little steam
On my clothes
Maybe I can fix things up so theyll go
Whatsa matter daddy
Come on save my soul
Drop a little sugar in my bowl
I aint foolin
Drop some sugar- yeah- in my bowl.
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Like Chocolate
Would you be my Hershey Kiss
My chocolate chip, my Snicker Bar,
My sweet brown sugar near or far?
Hand in hand we'd travel forever
and never be afraid because we're together.
Love soaring way up high,
like shooting stars across the sky.
Would you be my Hershey Kiss
My chocolate chip, my Snicker Bar,
My sweet brown sugar near or far?
poem by Joretta Morris
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0258 While the enamel holds
I've just made a passable loaf:
the mixing bowl could almost
be called a Thanksgiving Bowl -
maybe, could start a fashion:
it's made, not of catering-trade steel
which spins nicely on the worktop
nor of plastic, but
of enamel, made about 1929 I guess,
by Kockums of Sweden, size 28 cms
it's clearly stamped -
Kockum's whose proud claim is that
'it lasts a lifetime' - if
you're fortunate enough to be able
to test it thus...
my mother used it to make cakes
- I can hear the scratch of sugar, butter, flour, right now;
sometimes the smell of lemon or vanilla too. And
for her, too, gratitude, I guess,
while she used it, hands and thoughts,
although she could not put it to
the Kockum's test...But the silvery marks
of the fork, or whisk, or careful knife that
left little for me to lick,
disappeared from its strong enamel
and now I use it to make bread
wondering how many of
the current users could verify
to Kockum's management
their proud claim
for it was only late in life that
my mother told me that this bowl
this small 28 cm bowl
was my first baby bath
so as I use it with these mixed emotions
mixed together in this mixing bowl
receptacle of love on love
and thanksgiving
I note with some reflection
that recently, one slight chip
in its circular bowl has appeared
due perhaps to carelessness, not in
the preparing but the washing-up...
and think I'd rather think
(you see - the baby turned out intellectual)
my life were rounded by my failures in my care
than the life of an enamel bowl
however guaranteed
perhaps we'll go together...
dust to dust, flour to flour,
flowers falling to nourish
the seeds of flowers to come
I must remember to ask
my executors to write Kockum's
and confirm their not so often
substantiated claim
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Comforting Place
You rush downstairs to the kitchen with excitement as the heart felt aroma of chocolate chip cookies seeps through every room in your house.
So enamored and filled with relief that your anguishing wait is over, you cannot help but notice each cookie's golden brown, wrinkled crust glistening as steam whisps seductively around your nose drawing you near, as if in a trance. While rich chocolate oasises seep delicately into each cookie.
And when they are finally cool enough to eat, you push and grab for the biggest chip, filled cookie on the rack and bite eagerly into the crust, but savoring every flavor.
The texture, so soft and moist, melts like ice in a bowl luke warm water. But, as the last piece slips down your throat, the after taste is so overwhelming that you yearn for another, and another and another until you are satisfied.
But then you comforting place is shattered, like a mirror to a hardwood floor, as your mother walks in to an empty cooling rack and a nervous child afraid of what her mother will say, with chocolate smears resting in the corners of ther mouth and the tips of her fingers.
By: Cece
Age: 14
(This was orginally an imagery activity for my honors english class. Our assignment was to write about our individual comforting place and... mine was chocolate chip cookies! So, I hope you liked it. But I don't know about you but, I'm hungry!)
Hot Chocolate
Black Butterscotch, Caramel
Coconut In A Cup
Cookies-N-Cream, Brown Sugar
With A Vanilla Scent Of Lust
Let Me Spin My Straw In You
And Watch The Waves Swirl Through
With A Thick Blast Of Honey Almond
It's A Hot Chocolate Whirlpool
So Hot The Heat Could Melt Marshmallows
And Make Our Bodies Feel Warm
I Could Feel The Temperature Level Rising
In Your Soft Steamy Form
When I Get You On The Table
Or On The Counter Top
You Are A Simply Delicious Delight
From Your Bottom To Your Top
Down To The Last Drop
I Just Don't Want To Stop
Hot Chocolate..... Hot Chocolate.....
So Many Flavors To Savor
Every Time I Finish
You Keep Me Coming Back Later
Addicted To Sweet Sips
By The Touch Of The Tongue
I Believe That I Need You
Hot Chocolate Got Me Sprung! ! ! !
poem by Cortez Maurell Lewis
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Christmas Cookies
Chorus:
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, sugar
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
The ones that look like Santa Claus
Christmas trees, and bells, and stars
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
Now Christmas cookies are a special treat
The more she bakes the more I eat
And sometimes I can't get myself to stop
Sometimes she'll wait till I'm asleep
And she'll take the ones I didn't eat
And put those little sprinkly things on top
Chorus:
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, sugar
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
The ones that look like Santa Claus
Christmas trees, and bells, and stars
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
Now those sprinkly things just makes things worse
Cause it makes them taste better than they did at first
And they're absolutely impossible to resist
Some disappear to who knows where
But I make sure I get my share
And those kids just stand there waiting for the ones I miss
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, sugar
Sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
She gets mad that they're all gone
Before she gets the icing put on
Sure do like those Christmas cookies babe
Now there's a benefit to all of this
That you might have overlooked or missed
So now let me tell you the best part of it all
Every time she sticks another batch in the oven
There's 15 minutes for some kissin' and'a huggin'
That's why I eat Christmas cookies all year long!
Ah, Take it away boys
--- Instrumental ---
Chorus:
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, sugar
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
The ones that look like Santa Claus
Christmas trees, and bells, and stars
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe
I sure do like those Christmas cookies, babe...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sugar
M. pinkard / s. mitchell / f. alexander
Sugar, i call my baby my sugar
I never maybe my sugar
That sugar baby of mine
He's special ration
Funny, he never asks for my money
All i give him is honey
And that he can spend anytime
I'd make a million trips to lips
It i were a bee
Because he's sweeter than chocolate candy to me
He's confectionary
Sugar, i never cheat on my sugar
Cause i'm too sweet on my sugar
That sugar baby of mine
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Those Cookies Made
You hooked me with your looks,
And also cooking, 'bay-bee'.
Your speciality is baking sugar cookies, 'bay-bee'.
And a tasting of your cookies,
Is my favorite crave...
I rush to get to savor.
Because the flavor makes them great...
I've lost my patience to wait.
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
Oh...
Oh your cookies made,
Are the best I've ever savored.
Yes your cookies made.
Is a taste that can't get better.
Oh...
Oh those cookies made,
Are fun to munch in any weather.
Yes,
Those cookies made.
Your cookies made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The sad Castle of our little World
Our new roost a tiny room
And no table and chairs.
I sit on the bed and scribble this
While my beloved tastes a chicken broth from a teaspoon,
And she stuck in the Kingdom of her Kitchenette.
'Darling where is that miniature cheap bottle of Whiskey? .
The previous night I kept somewhere.'
She measured and gave me a small sip from the same teaspoon.
Then I grumbled; 'Oh! It's not enough my painkiller as the World still rotates.'
She kept quiet angrily.
Through the broken window panes I see the faraway floodlights in a Stadium
And I whispered to my beloved; 'I would like to play football again like younger days.'
She smiled like Mona Lisa.
* To our dearest daughter Tharindu.Inoka
We received your graduation photograph and the copies of relevant certificates today.
We are so proud of your achievement, May the winds be always at your back.
Really we missed you darling!
Merits to Kelum! One of our precious Son-in-laws who struggled the entire journey for bringing you up to this standard.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If you're fated to drown, you may die in a teaspoon of water.
Misspoke
'Sir...
We clearly have you on videotape
Saying you baked those cookies.
When in actuality,
You did not.
If you are expected to be selected,
As our choice to lead...
We need immediate clarification.'
I must apologize.
On several occasions,
I now admit to saying...
~I baked those cookies.~
You see...
It was many years ago,
When I begged from door to door...
For a taste of homemade chocolate chip cookies,
I was made to feel inadequate.
Until one day...
Out of the blue,
I decided I could and would bake my own cookies!
'But sir...
These are 'not' your cookies.
You might have tasted these cookies.
However...
Your baking them is a false statement.'
Baked, ate...
Tasted!
What difference does it make?
I misspoke.
Can we move on?
There are other more important allegations to lie about.
And besides...
It's just an election.
What's the big deal?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before' The Beans
Take one turkey butt,
And put it in boiling water.
Make sure you had put in olive oil first.
With a little butter, oregano and basil leaves.
Then add two tablespoons of soy sauce.
A pinch or two of brown sugar, salt and red pepper.
20 minutes!
That's all you want to give it 'before' the beans!
Speckled Butter Beans.
With kidney and black eye peas.
Add them with sliced carrots and celery.
Turn down the heat,
To medium for approximately 45minutes.
And serve this with brown rice.
If you are into chicken...
Fried wings would be delicious.
For the better of the best tastes,
The 'smoked' turkey butt is great for that!
NOTE: 'Yes' this is my own original recipe.
Enjoy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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American public opinion is like an ocean, it cannot be stirred by a teaspoon.
quote by Hubert H. Humphrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If a person is fated to drown, he'll lose his life even in a teaspoon of water.
Asking is the beginning of receiving. Make sure you don't go to the ocean with a teaspoon. At least take a bucket so the kids won't laugh at you.
Peanut Butter: My Old Friend.....[Personal; Food]
I had a peanut butter sandwich today
which made me think of all the way....
sssss my life has been touched by that
stick-to-your-mouth sludge of peanut fat.
Not 'touched' in the sense that's it's shaped my life,
but when I open a jar and take up a knife
or a spoon, I can picture times of enjoy-
ment as an adult consumer and as a boy.
Of course I'm lucky in that I generally enjoy food
even if I'm in a rare bad mood.
I assume pb was a common snack in my childhood,
though I'm not sure it was. My memory is not that good.
But I do remember my Mom made cookies from it;
I helped her. And the first cooled cookie I'm sure I bit,
paying some attention to the crisscross pattern on top,
or the sometimes-present big chocolate drop.
And when I visited my childhood neighbor, Helen, it's a good bet
that sometimes a peanut butter sandwich I would get.
[But I really better remember that Helen's kitchen at times had cake.
I assume her mother, Betty, the cake did make.]
At Halloween there were pb 'cups' made by Reeses.
Chocolate and pb. It's good they were small pieces!
As an adult pb has been with me off and on.
Probably when I shared a home with my brother Don,
and when Shannon, my daughter, was young (that makes me smile) ,
and when I lived in a storage garage for a short while.
I used to put it on plain warm toast, but
perhaps mixed-with-vanilla-ice cream I enjoyed it most.
I can't tell you how it would taste on sliced tomato,
but I can say it wasn't good when tried on mashed potato! !
And as I type today there's an unsealed jar nearby.
My wife cautions me against too much, but I'm not sure why.
From time to time it's a treat on cereal or bread,
but usually it's just a spoon of it I stick into my head.
poem by Bri Edwards
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