butter, raisins, and nuts, which make them a relatively healthy treat. As I mentioned, the amount of chocolate chips is really quite small but they have a big impact.”
She passed the plate and everyone took a cookie, bit into it, and chewed.
“Mmm,” said Lucy. “How do we score them?”
“One to five,” said Chris. “Rachel, would you collect the papers and add up the scores?” When Rachel agreed she pulled a calculator out of her briefcase and slid it across the table to her.
Time passed quickly as the women nibbled on cookies and sipped water and jotted down their scores. Willie was the only one who tried the dog biscuits, but she pronounced them quite good. Chris was willing to take her word for it, but suggested Lucy give the dog treats an egg wash to give them more eye appeal. Her second entry, lemon-poppy seed muffins which she’d whipped up from a mix at the last minute, didn’t score well, which was fine with her. Pam’s oatmeal cookies got the okay, but her peanut butter cookies were judged inferior to Chris’s Kitchen Sink Cookies. Though Frankie’s chocolate genoise was voted delicious but not practical for the bake sale, her madeleines passed muster. Bonnie’s homemade arrowroot cookies got an enthusiastic nod but Rachel’s carob oaties and granola goodies were deemed to have too much fiber. Mimi’s pumpkin-raisin cookies got a cool approval—they were awfully good but nobody wanted to admit it—and Willie’s angel food slices were judged too difficult and expensive to make.
“Difficult for whom?” demanded Willie. “Anybody can whip up egg whites.”
“Too wasteful,” said Frankie. “What are we supposed to do with all the yolks?”
“Feed them to the dogs, that’s what I do,” said Willie. “Especially if I’ve got a pregnant bitch.”
“Well, I don’t have a bitch,” snapped Frankie.
“That’s what you think,” countered Willie.
“Let’s taste Sue’s brownies,” said Lucy, interrupting Frankie before she could utter a rejoinder. “They really are better than sex.”
“Nothing’s better than sex,” chuckled Frankie.
“You ought to know,” said Willie.
“At least I haven’t forgotten, like some people,” said Frankie.
“Time out,” called Rachel. “We’re considering the brownies. I give them a five.”
Sue beamed at her.
“I think the name is adorable,” said Pam. “Can you make little labels?”
“You can do anything with a computer, right?” said Sue.
“These are amazing,” agreed Frankie. “I love how the butter taste is there but it’s not overpowering, and the sweetness of the sugar is balanced by the slight bitterness of the chocolate. I would love the recipe. I also give them a five.”
“I’m sorry, I like the brownies but I find the name objectionable. I don’t think the labels are a good idea at all,” said Bonnie.
“Neither do I,” said Mimi, eager to form an alliance after the chilly reception she’d received so far. “There’s plenty of sex on TV and movies, I don’t think we need to bring it into our bake sale.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” said Bonnie, quickly distancing herself from Mimi. “I just think that if we’re going to have labels they ought to be informative and list the ingredients.”
“For Pete’s sake,” said Sue, “it’s just a name. It’s not like they’ve got obscene decorations or anything.”
“I love the humorous name, and the taste,” said Lucy, staunchly defending her friend. “I give them a five.” She passed her scorecard to Chris, who was busy adding up the numbers.
“The brownies come up short,” said Chris. “It’s just as well, I think. They must be loaded with trans fat.”
“Maybe you should have called them ‘Cardiac Arrest Brownies,’” said Mimi. If it was meant to be a joke it flopped, earning disapproving stares from everyone.
Sue was about to utter a rejoinder when Rachel covered her hand with her own and said quickly, “Let’s
She passed the plate and everyone took a cookie, bit into it, and chewed.
“Mmm,” said Lucy. “How do we score them?”
“One to five,” said Chris. “Rachel, would you collect the papers and add up the scores?” When Rachel agreed she pulled a calculator out of her briefcase and slid it across the table to her.
Time passed quickly as the women nibbled on cookies and sipped water and jotted down their scores. Willie was the only one who tried the dog biscuits, but she pronounced them quite good. Chris was willing to take her word for it, but suggested Lucy give the dog treats an egg wash to give them more eye appeal. Her second entry, lemon-poppy seed muffins which she’d whipped up from a mix at the last minute, didn’t score well, which was fine with her. Pam’s oatmeal cookies got the okay, but her peanut butter cookies were judged inferior to Chris’s Kitchen Sink Cookies. Though Frankie’s chocolate genoise was voted delicious but not practical for the bake sale, her madeleines passed muster. Bonnie’s homemade arrowroot cookies got an enthusiastic nod but Rachel’s carob oaties and granola goodies were deemed to have too much fiber. Mimi’s pumpkin-raisin cookies got a cool approval—they were awfully good but nobody wanted to admit it—and Willie’s angel food slices were judged too difficult and expensive to make.
“Difficult for whom?” demanded Willie. “Anybody can whip up egg whites.”
“Too wasteful,” said Frankie. “What are we supposed to do with all the yolks?”
“Feed them to the dogs, that’s what I do,” said Willie. “Especially if I’ve got a pregnant bitch.”
“Well, I don’t have a bitch,” snapped Frankie.
“That’s what you think,” countered Willie.
“Let’s taste Sue’s brownies,” said Lucy, interrupting Frankie before she could utter a rejoinder. “They really are better than sex.”
“Nothing’s better than sex,” chuckled Frankie.
“You ought to know,” said Willie.
“At least I haven’t forgotten, like some people,” said Frankie.
“Time out,” called Rachel. “We’re considering the brownies. I give them a five.”
Sue beamed at her.
“I think the name is adorable,” said Pam. “Can you make little labels?”
“You can do anything with a computer, right?” said Sue.
“These are amazing,” agreed Frankie. “I love how the butter taste is there but it’s not overpowering, and the sweetness of the sugar is balanced by the slight bitterness of the chocolate. I would love the recipe. I also give them a five.”
“I’m sorry, I like the brownies but I find the name objectionable. I don’t think the labels are a good idea at all,” said Bonnie.
“Neither do I,” said Mimi, eager to form an alliance after the chilly reception she’d received so far. “There’s plenty of sex on TV and movies, I don’t think we need to bring it into our bake sale.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” said Bonnie, quickly distancing herself from Mimi. “I just think that if we’re going to have labels they ought to be informative and list the ingredients.”
“For Pete’s sake,” said Sue, “it’s just a name. It’s not like they’ve got obscene decorations or anything.”
“I love the humorous name, and the taste,” said Lucy, staunchly defending her friend. “I give them a five.” She passed her scorecard to Chris, who was busy adding up the numbers.
“The brownies come up short,” said Chris. “It’s just as well, I think. They must be loaded with trans fat.”
“Maybe you should have called them ‘Cardiac Arrest Brownies,’” said Mimi. If it was meant to be a joke it flopped, earning disapproving stares from everyone.
Sue was about to utter a rejoinder when Rachel covered her hand with her own and said quickly, “Let’s
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