Curiouser and Curiouser...

It should come as no surprise by now that my curiosity regarding new foods and ingredients is relatively boundless. If I could have infinite storage space in my kitchen, I would inevitable fill every corner of that infinite space with odds and ends of bottles, boxes, cans, and bags of ingredients that I purchased because I wanted to see what they would be like, but never used again past the initial recipe that sparked my curiosity. After all, not every experiment is a success, and even recipes that are successful, like the posole I made when we first moved into our new apartment, leave leftover specialty ingredients like dried chiles that have no immediately obvious alternate application.

Still, I remain undeterred. When I saw a recipe for a British dessert relatively unknown here in the U.S. called "flapjacks" (no, they have nothing to do with pancakes besides being flat), I was intrigued despite the fact that it called for Lyle's Golden Syrup. Golden syrup is a form of inverted sugar, similar to honey in appearance and its mild flavor profile, but more related to molasses in terms of how it is produced. It is a popular sweetener in the U.K., but to find it here you usually have to track it down at an import store, unless you live near an exceptionally well-stocked mega-mart.

I set out to find some so that I could give these alternative flapjacks a try, and my search eventually led me to Fox and Obel, purveyors of all things gourmet and obscure, and a dangerous place for my pocketbook if ever there was one. Of course, they carried it and I brought home a bottle (along with several other pricey items I didn't really need), but it lingered on the shelves of my pantry for a while before I finally had the time and inclination to try the recipe.

Last weekend, I was bitten by the baking bug, and had skimmed my Pinterest board in search of something new to scratch off my to-do list. Unfortunately for me, there seem to be a lot of layer cake ideas there, which was more than I wanted to tackle without a specific occasion in mind, and every single other recipe that caught my eye required some ingredient that I didn't have in the house. It was a Saturday and Justin had taken the car to work in the burbs at his part-time job, so I was stuck in the house with nothing to bake. I was especially bummed that we were low on oats after our experiment with pumpkin oatmeal last month, because the flapjack recipe was suddenly, and strongly calling to me.

Though it was getting late in the month, I still hadn't baked a cookie recipe yet for February and I wanted to stay somewhat on course in terms of fulfilling my New Year's resolution. Flapjacks are kind of like a bar cookie, though I think they have more in common with Rice Krispie treats, which I wouldn't exactly classify as a cookie. Still, it was close enough for me.

So tonight, while we were out doing our weekly grocery shopping, I tossed a canister of Quaker Oats in my cart, and I was in business. Thankfully, like Rice Krispie treats, flapjacks are so quick and simple to make that I was able to tackle them on the same night that we went grocery shopping, and still make it to bed on time. You have to love a dessert that can be made in less than an hour!

Convenience means nothing, however, if the result is lackluster. Thankfully, these humble bars more than delivered in the flavor department. In fact, they were astonishingly good! The brown sugar and golden syrup conspired to add complex, caramel notes to the flapjacks, while the oats gained a rich, toasty flavor from their time in the oven. Justin and I easily could have eaten the whole pan, but we limited ourselves to one a piece. 

Now my conundrum is this: do I include the flapjack in my cookie lineup later this year? They are certainly delicious and unusual enough to merit inclusion. But are they really a cookie? At least I have ten months to think about it, and in the meantime, I strongly suspect that flapjacks will be making another appearance or two in my kitchen to help me figure it out.

British Flapjacks

adapted from Bon Appétit

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/4 cup golden syrup*
2 1/3 cups quick-cooking oats (not instant or old-fashioned)
Pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Butter 8x8x2-inch metal baking pan. Combine first 3 ingredients in heavy medium saucepan. Stir constantly over medium-low heat until butter melts, sugar dissolves, and mixture is smooth. Remove from heat. Add oats and salt; stir until coated. Transfer mixture to prepared pan and spread out in even layer.

Bake until top is golden (edges will be darker), about 25 minutes. Cool in pan on rack 5 minutes. Cut into 4 squares; cut each into 4 triangles (mixture will still be soft). Cool completely in pan before serving.

Please Sir, Can I Have Some More...

Food cravings work in mysterious ways. Normally, I tend to crave salty snacks, like Doritos or Cheetos, and for one week every month I experience a sudden, insatiable need to ingest chocolate, but today I woke up with a strong desire to eat oatmeal for breakfast. Now, don't get me wrong, I like oatmeal, but I don't really think of it as a crave-worthy food. At least I certainly can't remember craving oatmeal before (and before you think it, no, I'm not pregnant.) So instead of any of our go-to weekend breakfast options, I did a quick Google search to locate a pumpkin oatmeal recipe I'd sent my mom ages ago, when she was looking for oatmeal ideas.

Though I could have replicated that traditional pumpkin pie flavor profile through spices alone, I feel like pumpkin itself is pretty neutral in the flavor department, and I figured that adding the real thing would up the nutritional profile of the dish, adding even more fiber as well as vitamins and minerals to the mix. The recipe I found, from Aarti Sequeira on the Food Network, called for almond milk, which we didn't have, so I went ahead and added regular milk to the dish, which probably made it a little less healthy, and certainly no longer vegan. While the texture of the dish didn't suffer from my decision, the flavor probably did, as almond milk has a certain sweetness to it that regular milk does not, and I was definitely missing sweetness in the finished dish.

As someone whose primary exposure to oatmeal came from those highly-sweetened flavored packets from Quaker (maple and brown sugar is my all-time favorite!), this healthy oatmeal was nowhere near sweet enough to appeal to my palate. I tried adding some maple sugar, but it wasn't quite enough to do the trick, but I didn't want to add any more, in fear of undoing the healthful good I was doing for my body by eating pumpkin oatmeal in the first place. As a result, I sort of suffered through the bowl, feeling a bit like I was being punished with healthy food instead of delicious food.

Justin, however, has a greater appreciation for wholesome, nutrient-dense foods (the man is thirty, and he willingly eats Grape Nuts for breakfast, because he enjoys them), and he really liked the pumpkin oatmeal, even without the extra sugar. So if you can handle an unsweetened breakfast and you enjoy warm spices, go ahead and give this a try. And if you're willing to give up the idea of having a healthy meal and are willing to add sugar to your heart's content, then go ahead and give this recipe a whirl; I suspect it could be great!

Pumpkin Oatmeal

adapted from Aarti Sequeira

1 14 oz. can unseasoned pumpkin puree

2 c. water

2 c. milk, or almond milk

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

3/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice

2 c. quick cooking oats (not the instant kind)

maple sugar, for serving

1. In a large saucepan over high heat, combine the pumpkin puree, water, milk, salt, and pumpkin pie spice. Bring to a boil.

2. Add oatmeal. Turn down the heat and cook according to package directions; stir often.

3. Once the oatmeal is cooked (each grain should be tender), serve with maple sugar.

Going Bananas...

I realize that basically the last thing anyone in their right mind would do when their air conditioning is broken is turn on the oven, but last week, when I was still occupying an artificially frosty apartment, I got it in my head that I needed to try a cookie recipe I'd spotted that employed bananas, so I dutifully went out to the store, bought the fruit, and left it on my counter to ripen. When I eat bananas out of hand, I like them to be just barely ripe, one or two days home from the store, max. I've never been much of a fan of fruit in general, particularly if it gets too sweet, like a very ripe banana, or a ripe melon. So there was really nothing I could do with my purchases once they were more than a few days old, besides turn them into the cookies for which they were intended.

Which is how, dear readers, I found myself baking tonight. Thankfully, the weather has been cooperating with my lack of air conditioning fairly well, and it's been unseasonably cool out, so far. Hence, it wasn't too much of an imposition to crank up the oven in the middle of June, even without a functioning HVAC system.

I was attracted to the recipe in the first place because it vaguely reminded me of one of my favorite childhood treats, the oatmeal banana cookies baked by the mother of a neighborhood boy I used to play with. They were dense and chewy, perfumed with ripe fruit, and adorned with festive multi-colored sprinkles on top -- the key to any child's heart. I'll never be able to get that recipe, but I've been on the lookout for a cookie that combines oatmeal and bananas for ages now in hopes of recreating at least part of that childhood memory.

The cookies I baked tonight were slightly more elaborate, but in a good way; they also featured walnuts and chocolate chunks. Honestly, what recipe isn't improved by the addition of chocolate? I chose to take the opportunity to use up the odds and ends of several different packages and varieties of chocolate that I had sitting around the kitchen: the end of a bag of Ghirardelli bittersweet chips, part of a bag of Tollhouse semisweet morsels, part of a bar of Ghirardelli baking chocolate that'd been hanging out in my cabinet a while, and a few milk chocolate chips, just to get the total up to seven ounces. It definitely felt nice to clear some of the clutter out of my baking supply hoard.

Ultimately, I was glad that all those bits of chocolate gave their lives to make these cookies, and that I risked heating up my apartment to make them, because they were really quite delicious. Imagine, if you will, the love child spawned by the seemingly unholy union of banana nut bread and chocolate chip cookies (two of my most frequent baked good cravings), and you're in the ballpark of what these cookies taste like. It wasn't quite the flavor profile I was going for, and they didn't remind me of those oatmeal banana cookies from my childhood, but I think I'll be adopting them as the favorite banana cookie of my adulthood...

My enormous cookie jar, from Target. We've been through a lot together...

Banana-Walnut Chocolate Chunk Cookies
adapted from Martha Stewart

1 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 c. (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 large egg
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 c. mashed ripe banana
1 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
8 oz. semisweet chocolate (chips or 1/4 inch chunks)
1/2 c. coarsely chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 375.
1. Whisk together both flours, salt, and baking soda in a bowl.
2. Put butter and both sugars in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Reduce speed to low. Add egg and vanilla; mix until combined. Mix in banana. Add flour mixture; mix until just combined. Stir in oats, chocolate, and walnuts.
3. Drop tablespoons of dough onto a parchment lined baking sheet, spacing about 2 inches apart. Bake cookies until golden brown and just set, 12-13 minutes. Let cool on sheets about 5 minutes, then transfer to wire racks and allow to cool completely.

Love Me, Love Me...

When I first started working at the museum, I was confronted with a rather unwelcoming corporate culture. I quickly discovered that people did not socialize with people outside their department, and since I work in a department that consists of me and my supervisor, I would go days at a time without talking to anyone all day, since my officemates, Irene and Mireya, only worked part-time. In order to ingratiate myself with my peers, I embarked on an ambitious cookie-baking plan. I figured that if all else failed, I could break the ice with my coworkers, and maybe even bribe them into befriending me. So, for the last few months of 2008, I brought cookies into work once a week, usually on Fridays, and got into a routine of baking Thursday nights while watching Grey's Anatomy.

I became known as the "cookie fairy of the first floor," because I often dropped off my treats in the break room early in the morning, before anyone else showed up to the office. To a certain extent, my plan worked. People became friendlier, and I certainly became popular with the security staff, which is a good crowd of people to have on your side. Eventually, I became closer with Mireya and made friends with Natasha from the gift shop.

However, when I moved up to the administrative floor in 2009, I found myself facing the same problem that had plagued me before -- nobody ever talked to me. As a result, I revisited my cookie strategy, and started regularly baking for my new set of coworkers. Eventually, I earned a small following for my baked goods, and people were talking to me again, even if it was mostly to compliment my baking prowess. At least they knew my name, and most of them figured out I wasn't an intern.

My coworkers have become an invaluable part of my baking hobby. They provide a source of feedback for new recipes, and more importantly, a place to dispose of my experiments so that I don't end up eating all those dozens of cookies myself.

Today, I brought in a new batch of cookies that I baked last night, building off my new-found sense of inspiration from Martha Stewart's Cookies: The Very Best Treats to Bake and Share. (I have other cookie cookbooks, I swear. I just happen to find this one the most inspirational.) This time, I decided to tackle a recipe that has long been on my radar, for Iced Oatmeal Applesauce Cookies. Since apples are among the short list of fruits that I enjoy eating, I had long wanted to give these a try, but the recipe calls for chunky applesauce, which I hate and was reluctant to purchase and leave sitting around the house indefinitely. Now that I have a boyfriend that is less of a picky eater than I am to eat the leftovers, I set about trying the recipe at last.

The results were pleasing, with a nice balance of softness and chew to the texture, and a subtle hint of maple flavoring from the glaze. The applesauce was not a dominant flavor at all, but I was still glad that I added cinnamon to the batter. I had thought that it would pair well with the apples, and even though the apple flavor isn't noticeable, I think the finished product would be a little bland without the extra spice. After less than an hour in the staff kitchen this morning, the cookies were gone -- always a good sign, and I received some good feedback from my coworkers, who found them comforting and homey.

They might not be the fanciest cookies I've made, but the maple icing provides a bit of a flourish that elevates them. I see these as a perfect "mom cookie," something to have on hand as a snack for your kids when they get home from school. They were astonishingly quick and easy to make, which makes them perfect for such a purpose. If you're a mom, or would just like to recreate some of the comforts of home in your own kitchen, I'd certainly recommend giving these a try.


Iced Oatmeal Applesauce Cookies
adapted from Martha Stewart

For the cookies:
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 c. light brown sugar, packed
1/2 c. sugar
1 large egg
1/2 c. chunky applesauce
1 1/2 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 c. raisins (optional)

For the icing:
1 c. powdered sugar
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
2 tablespoons water

Preheat oven to 350.
1. Put the melted butter and both sugars in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, and stir together on low until combined. Add egg and applesauce, and mix until well-blended, 2-3 minutes. Mix in oats, flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Mix in raisins, if using.
2. Spoon tablespoons of dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake cookies until golden and just set, about 13-15 minutes. Let cool on sheets 5 minutes, then remove to cooling racks to cool completely before icing.
3. Whisk icing ingredients together in a small bowl and drizzle over cookies. Let set completely before eating.

Coming Around Again...

Sometimes, I feel like I get caught in a vicious cycle in the kitchen, and not because I've gotten stuck in a rut by cooking the same dishes over and over again. No, this vicious cycle is intentionally caused at least in part by food companies who sell complimentary products but in amounts designed to leave you with leftovers. Take hot dogs, and hot dog buns -- the encased meats usually come in packages of eight, while their accompanying bread products come in packages of six. You're doomed to either have extra dogs or extra buns. Chips and salsa are also big offenders -- inevitably, I either have leftover chips or leftover salsa and keep having to buy one to use up the other. They're virtually never finished at the same time.

This time, however, I've managed to fall into a trap of my own making. When I made my blogiversary cake a couple weeks ago, I found myself in possession of unused cream cheese frosting. It was so tasty I didn't want to just throw it away, but I also love Justin too much and have too much invested in his long-term survival to let him eat the leftovers straight from the piping bag. Initially, I considered making some red-velvet cupcakes to use up the excess frosting, but my inner Wyatt couldn't make peace with the idea of putting cream cheese frosting on a red velvet cake. In our family, it's 7-minute frosting all the way, and cream cheese frosting was just too much of an abomination to consider seriously. So, I let it sit in the fridge while I pondered on it some more. (Don't worry, it has a surprisingly long shelf life.)

The answer finally came to me when I was perusing one of my most-used cookbooks, Martha Stewart's Cookies: The Very Best Treats To Bake and to Share. Deep down, I've long been harboring the aspiration of trying every recipe contained within its pages, but realistically, given my picky eating habits, it's not likely to happen. There are way too many cookies in there that employ fruits and nuts that I don't eat. However, my most recent read-through offered a bit of hope for my long-simmering project, when I discovered that my palate has in fact gotten more expansive in the last year.

I used to think that I didn't like apricot jam or cream cheese in baked goods, so I wrote off a variety of cookies from Martha's book. Then I made this year's attempt at hamantaschen, and the resultant batch of rugelach designed to rid myself of the leftover cream cheese (leftover cream cheese products seem to be a reoccurring theme in my kitchen this year), both of which contained apricot jam. I loved both recipes, and now that I've proven myself wrong, I look forward to testing a variety of new cookie recipes in the future.

This brings me to my latest discovery in Cookies: The Very Best Treats To Bake and to Share: whereas I used to think that I didn't like either carrot cake or cream cheese frosting, now that I have the incredible cream cheese frosting recipe from my blogiversary cake, I've learned to appreciate the flavor combination. Which is why a recipe for carrot cake sandwich cookies in Martha's book caught my eye. I already had all the ingredients for the cookies in the fridge, and I wouldn't even have to make any cream cheese frosting since I already had some I needed to use up. It was the perfect solution to my problem.

The cookies turned out to be delicious -- spicy from the cinnamon and ginger, toothsome from the carrots and oatmeal, but also soft and cake-like, they were almost a hybrid of a sandwich cookie and a whoopie pie. However, it turned out that I grossly overestimated how much frosting I had left, and I was only able to produce a dozen sandwich cookies using it, which left me with more than half of the cookies naked and unpaired. I ended up having to make more cream cheese frosting, of which there was naturally a surplus. Now I'm in basically the same position I was before.

Even if I didn't solve my leftovers dilemma, I was still glad I gave these carrot sandwich cookies a try. They were wildly popular with everyone I shared them with, so they'll definitely be gracing my kitchen again. I think they even have good make-ahead potential. Following my technique outlined here, you could freeze the dough a couple weeks or months in advance, make the frosting a few days in advance, and assemble them when ready to serve. They'd be perfect for serving at a party or family gathering, and I think there's a good chance that they might just make an appearance at my next cookie exchange...


Carrot Cake Sandwich Cookies
adapted from Martha Stewart

1 c. packed light-brown sugar
1 c. granulated sugar
1 c. unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 c. all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
2 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/2 c. finely grated carrots
1 c. raisins (optional -- I left them out)
1/2 recipe Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Preheat oven to 350.
1. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together butter and both sugars until fluffy, 3-4 minutes. Add eggs and vanilla and beat on medium speed until combined.
2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and spices. Gradually add flour mixture to butter, mixing on low speed to combine. Mix in oats, carrots, and raisins, if using. Chill dough in the refrigerator at least one hour, until firm.
3. Roll tablespoons of dough into balls and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving two inches of space in between. Transfer to oven and bake until browned and crisp, about 12-15 minutes. Remove to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. Use an offset spatula to spread about 2 teaspoons of cream cheese frosting onto half the cookies, and top with a cookie of similar size and shape to form sandwiches. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to three days.

Tea For Two...

Normally, I write about the "interesting" things that Justin and I do together -- museums, theater, festivals, and movies. In all honesty, however, it is the little rituals that we repeat week in and week out that I cherish the most. Of these, one of the things that stand out the most is our quiet Sunday morning breakfasts together. You see, Justin is usually responsible for these meals, and the novelty of having my man prepare scrumptious meals for me never grows old. This week, however, I wanted to do something nice for him, to repay him for all the nice things he's done for me lately, so I decided to take over the responsibility for preparing breakfast by baking some scones.

My enjoyment of scones dates back to my college days, when I fell in love with the chocolate chip variety sold at the campus coffee shop after an unfortunate insect-in-my-croissant incident soured me on my previous go-to breakfast item. The chocolate chip scones were, however, but one in a rotating menu of scones that were often poorly labeled, and I ended up with a lot of unpalatable raisin and blueberry scones during that era. Later, I discovered the delights of the maple oat scones at Starbucks, but it seemed like I could never sync up my sporadic Starbucks visits with the presence of those tasty treats. All I ever seemed to find there were strawberry or blueberry scones. Fie on fruit in my baked goods!

It was clearly time to take matters into my own hands, and I started trolling the blogosphere for viable recipes. The one I ended up settling on, however, came from my own bookshelf and a copy of Baking Illustrated. Since the staff at Cook's Illustrated (who published the book), actively scour the internet sending cease and desist letters to bloggers who print their recipes, I won't be sharing it here, but I actually think they're better than the ones at Starbucks. The oatmeal gets a quick toast in the oven before joining the dough, which gives everything a very nice toasted grain flavor.


We ended up sharing the scones over a nice cup of tea, and it was relaxing to sleep in a little longer without having to worry about leaving time to prepare breakfast. Not that I appreciate his cooking any less, but it felt good to be the one taking care of him for a change. After all, variety is the spice of life...

Today For You, Tomorrow For Me...

I cannot tell a lie, while "S" cookies have a place in my heart, they do not have such space in my belly, which is why I also baked some cookies for Thanksgiving that I could be more excited to eat. The "S" cookies may have been a nod to family tradition, but for pure, unadulterated, indulgent deliciousness I baked up a batch of one of my favorites: oatmeal toffee cookies. They are everything that the "S" cookies are not: chewy, rich, unfussy, and somewhat homely, but for what they lack in looks they more than make up for in flavor.

My quest for a perfect oatmeal cookie dates back to Easter of 2005, when I was still in college, and Dad's cousins invited me over to celebrate the holiday with them. One of my cousins had baked a batch of oatmeal cookies, and despite the fact that I was an avowed oatmeal cookie hater (since they almost always have raisins in them, and I more or less consider there to be no room for fruit in my cookies), the smell wafting off of them was intoxicating. I bit into one, and was taken aback by its utter perfection. There was a nutty, caramel-y flavor that I couldn't put my finger on. I thought perhaps peanut butter was involved, but I really couldn't be sure. I consumed an embarrassing number of those cookies that day, and I brought back a goodie bag of them to my dorm. I tried to get the recipe, but no one seemed to know for sure at the time who had made them, although I suspected it was my cousin Abby. The memory of those cookies would haunt me for the next several years as all of my attempts to replicate them failed.

Flash forward to 2008: I was trolling my usual collection of food blogs when I came across a recipe for oatmeal toffee cookies. I had just visited the north of France the previous year, where I was introduced to the splendors of salted caramel and was still deep in the throws of an obsession with all things caramel. I needed something to bring to a barbeque I was attending, so I hunted down the Heath toffee bits that the recipe called for, only to discover that the recipe had been stolen straight from the back of the package! Thankfully, I didn't let my annoyance at the plagiarizing blogger stop me from making the cookies, because they were fantastic. I've ultimately made a few changes since that first batch, such as omitting the cinnamon, which I found to be a distraction from the buttery toffee flavor. In the past year or so, these oatmeal toffee cookies have emerged as one of the most-baked recipes in my cookie repertoire.

Because they are so tasty, I brought along a batch to Thanksgiving in St. Louis last week, only to be asked by my cousin Julie if it was the recipe from the back of the Heath Bits O' Brickle bag. When I responded in the affirmative, she exclaimed, "Oh, Abby makes those! They are SO good!" Turns out, I had stumbled across the recipe for the vaunted cookie of my memories and not even realized it. All I knew was that I had discovered a damn good cookie.

Humble but delicious.

Oatmeal Toffee Cookies

adapted from the Heath Bits O' Brickle bag

1 c. unsalted butter, softened

2 eggs

2 c. light brown sugar, packed

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour

1 teaspoons baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 c. quick-cooking oats

1 8 oz. package Heath Bits O' Brickle Toffee Bits

1. Preheat oven to 375.

2. Beat butter, eggs, brown sugar and vanilla in a large bowl until well-blended. Add flour, baking soda and salt; beat until blended. Stir in oats and toffee bits with spoon.

3. Drop dough by rounded spoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto a parchment-lined sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes or until edges are lightly browned. Cool 3-4 minutes and remove to a wire rack to cool completely.