And you thought I got away with going to Thanksgiving sans dessert…
Well, not only did I bring a dessert, but I put my chameleons to work again (See http://twofacedchef.com/2009/11/20/chocolate-cranberry-pistachio-chameleons/). But they came back in cookie form. Thanks to the genius of Little Mommies and my Daddy, they found a way to turn these chocolate delights into a cookie form. These are relatively bittersweet and addicting. Go head. You can do it.
Talking about bittersweet and addicting, I think I find this funnier every time.
Chocolate Cranberry Pistachio Cookies.
Ingredients:
- 12 ounces semisweet chocolate (Chocolate chips are fine. I used Callebaut.)
- 2 2/3 cups flour
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 sticks (1 cup) butter
- 1 cup brown sugar
- ½ cup sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 3 eggs
- 1 1/2 cup (about 6 ounces) pistachios
- 1 1/3 cup (about 6 ounces) dried cranberries
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spread pistachios out on ungreased cookie sheet. Toast for about 5 to 7 minutes, watching carefully. They burn easily. You can tell when the nuts are toasted because they will brown slightly and you will begin to smell them. Remove from oven and let cool.
Melt chocolate in small saucepan over low heat, stirring until smooth—or melt in microwave in 30 second intervals, stirring often. Set aside.
In small bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt; set aside. In large bowl, beat together butter, brown sugar, white sugar and vanilla. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in melted chocolate. Slowly mix in flour mixture. Stir in cooled nuts and cranberries. Refrigerate batter for 5-10 minutes.
Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 8 to 9 minutes or until cookies are puffed. Cool on cookie sheet for 1 minute. Transfer to rack to cool completely. Makes 60 cookies.
Little Mommies has all these sweet serving platters that are great to take pictures on. Enjoy the pretty pictures while you can, soon enough you will be back to my terrible camera with my terrible taste. I accept my lack of servingware. I accept my lack of servingware. (Maybe if I keep saying it, it will be true…)










