Your Challenge for Today: Let's Get Real!

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Yesterday started out as a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very Bad Day.  

I woke up in pain, my lungs tight, my stomach hurting, and my face and tonsils swollen up like The Great Pumpkin in that classic Charlie Brown animated special that anyone over 30 probably grew up with.   Getting out of bed took exactly twenty seven minutes and thirty two seconds, and the effort of actually hoisting myself up out of bed used up about 79% of the energy that I had for the day, meaning BOY WAS I GOING TO BE A JOY TO BE AROUND!    (Sorry, Mr. DomesticatedRedhead)

Why do I tell you this?  
No, not because I want to complain
But because I want to show you "real."  

It occurred to me the other day as I was scrolling through Facebook and Pinterest (the technology version of crack cocaine), reading other people's blogs, and looking at all the shiny, happy pictures and look-ma-I'm-doing-something-fabulous status updates that people were posting, that it's all too easy to look at the rest of the world and wonder... where the heck do these people came from and what is their secret?   Do they never have a bad day?  Are they ever NOT having fun?  And SWEET JESUS STARFISH WEASEL WAFFLES, what shampoo is she using to get that shiny, bouncy hair?

But you know what also occurred to me?  
It's not real.  

Sure, the good things are real.   That shiny hair is real.  Those friends are real (unless you have some pretty spectacular imaginary ones that can actually be photographed.   But maybe that's not awesome, just kinda' spooky).  That sunny boat and awesome restaurant are real.  But what all these people are probably NOT showing is that they're actually tired, and stressed about money, they just got in a fight with their best friend and that fabulous selfie took seventeen different tries and some creative editing via their phone app.   

So why don't they show this?  Because we're all so worried about what others - all the other shiny, happy people - think, to be real, and actually tell about any of that stuff.  

So I'm going first. 

Truth: About 40% of my days start out like this, which is actually an improvement over the last few years when that number was more like 90%.    And I have about 40% of the energy of "normal" people every single day, meaning that something as joyful as scrubbing toilets or... you know... walking up the stairs.... takes a ton of effort sometimes.    But I'm not complaining, because I also know that I'm blessed with a lot of things in life, and there are SO MANY beautiful things in the world that being ill has forced me to slow down enough to actually notice.  

Like the beauty of random roses from my husband this week, given "just because", as they perch on our NEWLY DELIVERED TABLE! 

Or the smell of rich chocolate cupcakes, made for Mr. Domesticated's work to celebrate a team birthday. 

Or even the softness of the puppy's fur, when she jumps into bed in the morning for some "Oh boy you moved slightly therefore you must be awake!" snuggles.  

Now I'm not advocating pessimism, or complaining, or anything that involves excessive whining about first world problems. (a.k.a. "My life is ending because my TiVo didn't record my favorite shows today!")    But what I AM advocating is taking a deep breath, taking a risk, and feeling free to drop the need to appear perfect in favor of just being real sometimes.    Because I've learned the hard way -  by being exhausted, sick, and chronically ill with something outside of my control - that the best people in life will actually like you MORE when you open up.   

So go ahead.  Be real.  
(I promise, I'll still love you)

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The Tipping Point: Moving Style (Advice Needed)

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

I need your advice on a very important issue:
What's the "Grace period" after moving?

You know what I mean.  That magical point where having boxes around and stuff piled in random places like the adult version of tetris goes from being "perfectly acceptable" to "gee-you-might-want-to-put-in-some-effort-sweetie?"

According to my neighbors next door, it's six months.  According to the ones across the street, it's six years.  And according to the inner Type-A perfectionistic life Nazi that lives in my brain, it's been three months and twelve days and therefore I'm failing at life and should probably just turn in my adult card now and hang my head in shame.   

Baaad DomesticatedRedhead!  Baaad!

Mr. Domesticated and I have been trying, really we have.   But apparently a fixed budget along with a need for more shelving/storage/spiffy organizational things don't mix, especially when there are other things that seem to be more pressing (hello... kitchen table?   Bed?  Um...CHAIRS?) and take priority.  And it certainly doesn't help that part of the joy of home ownership, apparently, is the discovery of just how much everything evidenced by the glazed looks that you see on people's faces at stores like Home Depot and Menards.

Me:  Look honey, these shelves would be perfect!
Him:  I like them!  How much?
Me:  *checks the price tag*  Ooh, looks like two arms, a leg, and our first TWO unborn children.  Too much.....
Him:  How about these over here?
Me:  Hmm, not as nice, but they only cost a kidney, your right butt cheek, and a sacrificial goat.  Much more reasonable!  I think we can swing it.

This past weekend we drove around the metro area in the adult version of a scavenger hunt (only it was far less exciting than I remember it being when we were all six), looking for a kitchen table.   Naturally, we checked all the places that had words like "discount" and "bargain" and "you didn't need all the parts anyway, did you?" in their names, since this redhead is allergic to melons, ragweed, and paying full price for anything.  Surprisingly enough, we actually ended up finding something in our limited budget that had all four legs and was pronounced "not too bad."  

The only caveat?
The table is delivered next Monday.
The chairs are delivered sometime in October.

This means that if you come over to our house at any point in the next three months, you will now have the option of dining "Asian Style" (i.e. on sofa cushions on the floor) or "College Bar" style, where you hover standing around a table and try to look cool.  Except now you can drink out of actual glasses, rather than red plastic cups.

Fancy, right?

Still, I'm seeing it as a step in the right direction, and one more thing we can cross off our list.   Now if I can only find a way to silence the inner perfectionist that keeps yelling WORK FASTER, SLAVE!, things will be lovely indeed.     Which is why I keep wondering what everyone else's thoughts are on the tipping point of unpacking & organizing.   Am I right on schedule?  Ahead?  Or should I maybe possibly probably put down the cookie sheet, woman, and pick up a box or two?

I'm not going to lie, if you say I have five years, I'm totally bringing you cookies.
(Go ahead and leave your comments below.  Because, you know, all the cool people are doing it!)

Love and Sprinkles,
~ DomesticatedRedhead

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The World's Best Peanut Butter Cookies

Monday, July 6, 2015

Life is like a toddler. 
It does exactly what you tell it NOT to do. 

In one of the great ironies of life, the days after I posted my new "take time for me" motto have been a whirlwind of social obligations and baking orders, to-do's and errands, and a jumble of lists that never seem to get everything checked off.

Each day seems to fly by faster than the one before, leaving me standing in a sprinkles-covered kitchen, dusted in a fine layer of powdered sugar and Windex, staring a pile of half-unpacked boxes and mounds of paper before fumbling for my keys to run somewhere before they close.    There always seems to be something to do, an appointment to run to, or someone to meet up with.

It's times like these that I reach for my phone and text Mr. DomesticatedRedhead:

Me: Just an FYI, I'm taking up drinking.   If you need me or the dog, we'll be at the bar.
Him:  Awesome.  Have fun.  Be careful of Tequila.

This is why I married that man.  

So when I was driving home the other day from running errands and saw the card table set up on the corner of the street, I almost didn't stop, in favor of getting home faster to do whatever VERY IMPORTANT thing I had next on my list, like curing cancer or solving world hunger...

... or scrubbing down the bathroom shower.

But the sight of four tiny, eager faces (coupled with their amazing display of lung capacity as they bellowed in tandem "LEMONADE!" and bounced around like Cirque du Soleil acrobats on speed) swayed me, and I pulled over to


Meet Adriana, Bethia, and Isaiah - entrepreneurs extraordinaire.  A quick conversation with them revealed that their church asked them to look through sofa cushions for spare change, to help children in Rowanda.   But they wanted to take it a step further, and decided to sell lemonade (for the bargain price of $.50 a glass) to raise even more.


This is what gives me hope for our future. 

Because when everyone seems so often to live "Inside their own bubble," caught up in their own life, views, and....errands (hey, that shower's not going to scrub itself!)... little teachers like this are a good reminder that the sweetest things in life can be found outside of it.

So I gave them $2.00 for a red plastic tippy cup of fabulous lukewarm lemonade...  
Then drove home...
...and gathered up some extra peanut butter cookies that I had made for Mr. DomesticatedRedhead's work. 

Then marched them down the block to give to the kids, who squealed with joy.  

(Note: Yes, their parents were there.  And yes, the parents gave the OK.   Nothing like a random stranger offering your kids cookies... at least I wasn't doing it from the side door of an unmarked van.)  

And in the spirit of sharing, I'm sharing the recipe for the world's best Peanut Butter cookies with you today.

These cookies are a fabulous mix of crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, rolled in sugar and packed with a fabulous peanut butter taste that will make you popular with whomever you give them to.  Or with yourself, if you eat the whole batch.  (Whatever.  I don't judge.)    They're simple, and delicious, and the perfect gentle reminder for all of us to:

Put down the VERY IMPORTANT ERRAND/CHORE (those socks can get alphabatized later)
Make these cookies. 
Then take a moment to share them with someone. 

Because life is better outside the bubble.

"World's Best" Peanut Butter Cookies
Adapted from melskitchencafe


  • 2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (12 1/2 ounces)
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 cup (2 sticks, 16 tablespoons) butter, softened to room temperature
  • 2 cups creamy peanut butter (see note)
  • 1 1/2 cups brown sugar (10 1/2 ounces)
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar (3 1/2 ounces)
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
  2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Set aside.
  3. In a large bowl with a handheld electric mixer or in the bowl of an electric stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the butter and peanut butter until light and fluffy, 1-2 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
  4. Add the brown sugar and granulated sugar and mix until combined. Beat in the eggs and vanilla until creamy.
  5. Add the dry ingredients and mix until combined.
  6. Scoop the dough and roll into 1- or 2-inch balls. Place on parchment- or silpat-lined (or lightly greased) large, rimmed baking sheets, placing them a couple inches apart.
  7. Bake for 10-11 minutes until puffed. Don't overbake.
  8. Remove from the oven and immediately press each cookie to flatten slightly with the bottom of a flat drinking glass or the back of your spatula. (Don't flatten completely - just lightly press)
  9. Transfer to a cooling rack to cool completely. 

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There's No Place Like...

Monday, June 22, 2015

People like to say that blogs exist to chronicle their life, or document ideas, or share exciting events.
But they lie.

Blogs exist for the same reason that holidays exist: they point out just how fast time goes and GOOD LORD HAS IT BEEN A MONTH ALREADY/Quick Get the Tree Up/HOW AM I TURNING <Insert age here>?

Life here in our little house has been crazy busy this past month, but I'm beginning to believe that that's more of a personality trait and less of a temporary circumstance.   Weddings, house improvements, family get-togethers, baking orders, doctor's appointments, and all the little daily tasks (I'm looking at you, LAUNDRY) coupled with the fact that I have crazy energy some days and other days getting out of bed takes two hours and an effort worthy of a trophy, makes blogging fall to the bottom of the 'to do' list more than it probably should.    Somehow, it seems so selfish to take the time to write about ME when I'm staring at a sink full of dishes and the dog is hovering suspiciously around the door looking shifty.  

Because we all know that dog-by-doorway is akin to toddler-being-quiet:  Nothing good can come of it. 

Still, as crazy as it gets, life is good.  Our house is filled with sunshine and warmth, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the sound of children laughing.   Our dog, probably due to the fact that she is white and fluffy and resembles a living, romping stuffed animal, has become an instant celebrity with the dozens of neighborhood kids and they've taken to ringing the doorbell at all hours of the day to beg, en masse, "if Lily can come out and play?"  
And even though it requires no less than 30 minutes of guided Ranger-Rick-esque supervision with our shy puppy and the overenthusiastic kids, the answer is always


There's still so much to do, so many boxes to unpack, so many pictures to hang and pieces of furniture to buy.  So many things to organize, and label, and create.  So many blog posts to write. 

But for now, I'm forcing myself to slow down.  To breathe. 

To take long slow walks and the time to sit outside on the (neatly-manicured) front lawn, basking in the sunshine for a whole 5 minutes - as much as a natural redhead can get without turning lobster red - and feeling the prickly softness of grass under my hands and feet for the first time in so many years. 

Don't get me wrong, it's still an internal struggle between my internal drive to DO ALL THE THINGS and my 2-hours-of-energy-per-day limitations, but I'm using it as a lesson in mindfulness and a chance to learn how to let the small things go, just a little.   And thankfully, Mr. DomesticatedRedhead doesn't mind, and even encourages this new philosophy.  

So if I am a bit lax on the posting for a while, you know why.   And if you're ever in the area, I encourage you to drop by and have a cup of coffee or tea at the kitchen counter, enjoying the sunlight and fresh-baked bread smell with me as we catch up.   Or we can sit outside on the lawn and enjoy the warmth together, running our hands through the blades of grass and taking the time to just "be".   There is light here, and love, and warmth, and I want to share it with anyone who needs a slice of it in their life too.  

Because for the first time, in the longest time, I don't just have "a place".

I have a home.  

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Home Sweet Home

Tuesday, May 26, 2015




Congratulations, your Domesticated Redhead Action Figure Doll now comes with her very own Dream House!  (Sports Car, White Fluffy Dog, and Addicting Local Craft Store still sold separately)

That’s right, Mr. Domesticated Redhead and I are officially homeowners, which is exciting and terrifying all at once since it puts us smack dab in the “Look Ma!  We’re Adults!” category.    Hopefully this also explains the radio silence on the blog for a while, since we’ve been busy with the whole financing/moving/unpacking/painting thing. 

We were looking for homes for quite a while – two years, to be exact – but were having trouble finding anything that we liked that fell within our price range, wasn’t completely falling down,  and wasn’t somewhere in the middle of nowhere, in a different state, under a rock.    So on a whim we decided to look at one of the Eastern suburbs, and the rest is history. 

It’s an adorable little townhome, not very big but the perfect size for two people and one crazy, fluffy dog, and I’m totally in love with it.   After years of renting and moving from place to place, it’s still a novelty to (1) have a washer and dryer that don’t require spare change, (2) be able to paint/hang things on the walls/etc since WE OWN IT, and (3) daydream about what we want to do to the place since we know we’re not going to have to move in the next 12 months. 

Here’s a hint:  A chandelier is on my bucket list.   Somewhere.  Anywhere.  Just because… you know… SPARKLY!  So if you come over and visit and there’s a chandelier in the bathroom, consider yourself warned. 

Of course it has its quirks.  Our boiler sounds like a 747 coming in for a landing, to the point that Mr. Domesticated even looked up at the ceiling the first time and said Jeezus, WHAT IS THAT?”   Our washer shakes so hard that it will fling anything put on top of it across the room with a speed and accuracy that any Major League Baseball pitcher would envy.   And for a long while plugging more than one thing into any particular side of the house caused the fuse to switch off, which meant some tough choices about whether you wanted an alarm clock, a computer, or the refrigerator on that particular day.  (It’s been resolved.  Woo!) 
But it’s OURS, and it’s awesome, and…

… it has a kitchen with granite countertops and non-industrial lighting, and I can open up the fridge AND a cabinet AT THE SAME TIME. 

Sadly, I’m probably the most excited about that part. 

I’ll be posting pictures at some point, as we get the painting done and the boxes put away and things situated so it doesn’t look like we’re in the middle of an episode of Hoarders or Household Disasters or Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, but for now I’ll post the prerequisite phone selfie that every new Millennial homeowner is required to take:


So if you’re ever near Woodbury, you’re welcome to stop by. 
I’ll probably be in the kitchen, opening and closing things.  

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Dinner Parties: Entertaining with Ease

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Here's a riddle for you:

Q:  What's better than a sassy, domesticated redhead who writes a blog?  

Ok, I'll admit, that's a trick question.  Because obviously you'd answer "Duh!  There's NOTHING better than a sassy, domesticated blogging redhead!", and you'd be right.   Except in this case, the answer happens to be...

A:  TWO sassy, domesticated blogging redheads!  

Yep, you read that right.  Two!  And I have a surprise for all you lovely, fabulous readers...

May I introduce my good friend Betty, who blogs over at SweetBettysBlog and who just so happens to also be a sassy, craftsy, fashionable redhead with a drive to BAKE ALL THE THINGS!   We go waaay back to our mutual days in college, when we were bombshells-in-training and bonded over our mutual love of dance, baking, and all things chocolate.    She's graciously agreed to share some of her insight here as well, and you can expect to see more of her in the upcoming months as we pop over to each other's blogs like good friends dropping in for tea.    

I know you're excited.   I sure am!

So without further ado, I give you the classy and oh-so-fabulous Betty...


One of my favorite things to do is cook for friends. There is a simple joy in making meals for others, the conversation around the table, not to mention I have a tendency to cook more than is required for one person! But dinner parties can be terrifying things if you aren’t used to it. There is all the planning, the invites, the tablescapes, the grocery shopping, and then you finally get to the cooking itself. But I don’t let that stop me, and neither should you. Over the years I have had my fair share of amazing parties, and a few that didn’t go so well. All of them have taught me a few things. So gather close boys and girls, here are the Betty rules for being a host(ess).

Rule Number 1 – Follow the wisdom of a few French (influenced) women.
In the manner of Julia Child, roll with accidents. All mistakes are just teachable moments and can lead to some good laughs in the kitchen! Don’t let one burned dish ruin your entire evening, it isn’t worth it! Second impeccable lady to listen to, Coco Chanel. When you finish planning, take one thing away. One twist to the menu, one item off the table. You will thank yourself later.

Rule Number 2 – Take advantage of what you already have.
Do you have some fresh herbs in the fridge? Pick a dish that uses them! Do you have something from you CSA box you just haven’t used yet? Make that the star of the show! Those mismatched plates from your grandmother? They make fabulous serving plates for hors d’oeuvres and desserts! You don’t need to have a complete china set to entertain, as long as you have enough plates for dinner.

Rule Number 3 – Plan ahead.
Make a menu. Take supply inventory and make a shopping list. That way you don’t end up with a ton of onion and no garlic! Plan how you are going to serve your courses, or if you even have courses! Buffet style parties are a great low key option, especially for larger parties. Most importantly plan your schedule. When do you need to start the main course? When should your guests arrive? When are you going to do all your prep work? Those vegetables are not going to magically chop themselves!

Rule Number 4 – Do not forget your guests.
In all the hustle and bustle of cooking and serving and cleaning up it can be easy to get too focused on the kitchen. But the point of a dinner party, that is truly the company. Your soufflé can fail, you may run out of coffee, but your company will still be there! If you follow Rule Number 3 then you should be able to relax and enjoy your own evening.

So get thee to a cookbook you have been meaning to try, and invite a few friends over. Though it is best to start small with just a few people till you figure out what works for you!

Love and aprons,


PS For the record, I don’t tablescape. I can’t justify putting all those trinkets on the table when I am just going to have to try and shuffle them around to fit the actual dinner on the table.

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I Don't Pay This Much to Go Camping (Mexican Hot Chocolate Cookies)

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Growing up in the great Northern state of Wisconsin, I'm all too familiar with the concept of camping.

Coupled with fact that I have two younger brothers who not only were in Scouts but also who made it to the elevated level of Order of the Arrow (something akin to being knighted, I think, in boy-land), I'd like to think that if I ever accidentally got lost in the woods while looking for a shoe sale somewhere, I'd have a fighting chance of staying alive until someone realized that I was missing and found me.

I know how to tell time, and how much daylight is left, by the sun and the 'ol fingers-on-the-horizon method.  I know how to estimate weather based on how high the birds are flying and the type of cloud cover.  I can find north with a compass, or by looking at which side of the trees the moss is growing.  I know how to make an impromptu shelter out of sticks, piled boughs, and leaves that wouldn't win me any awards for architecture but would at least keep me warm at night.   I can even, if forced to, bait my own hook.

... what, don't you carry an emergency fishing pole with you at all times, too?

But all of that assumes one thing: that I'm fighting for survival.   Voluntarily putting myself in the middle of the woods for the sake of fun?  Nuh uh.  No way.  Been there, done that, got the bug bites (and the conviction that camping is not for me).   Which is why the last two days have been interesting, to say the least.    Here's a quick recap:

Tuesday:  Notified by the apartment complex that we will have NO WATER all day.  No water means no shower.  No toilet.  No cooking.

Today:  Wake up to NO POWER.  IN JANUARY.  IN THE FROZEN NORTH.  A.k.a., no cooking, no lights... NO HEAT.

Seriously, people.
I don't pay this much money for rent to go camping.

I've tried to be positive about the whole thing, though,  Tuesday I scheduled coffee/tea and girl time with my friend Gaby (see: Arepas) and ran as many errands as I could cram into the rare day when I had the car.   Wednesday I tried turning the shower in the bathroom on as hot as it could get, lighting some candles (since we have no windows in there), and spending as much time as possible in the small space pretending I was at a spa or sauna until steam inhalation drove me back into the main room.  Then I threw on as many layers as I could possibly fit on my body, piled the blankets on top of me, and tried to use this as an experience in gratitude since there are a lot of cold people in the world who don't have the luxury of extra clothes, blankets, or dorky fuzzy socks.

Dorky fuzzy socks.  One of the top ten best inventions ever.  

And now?  We have water, and heat, for the time being.  But I'm looking ahead to tomorrow and wondering what's going to be next.   I think the only thing left at this point is... a wall caving in or something.  (Which I am NOT advocating, so stay away, fate, I'm not tempting you!)

I'm celebrating my return to civilization by digging out a recipe for Mexican Hot Chocolate cookies that I had seen a while ago and wanted to try.  Because after spending the past eight hours without any heat whatsoever, any recipe with "Hot Chocolate" in it is an instant winner.  

The result? A lighter chocolate cookie with a crispy outer shell and a chewy interior, with a lovely sugar coating that gives it its sweetness (and a tiny little zing thanks to the Chili powder and Cinnamon).  You can add more or less chili powder depending on how much spiciness you like, or even omit it completely if you're not a fan since the cinnamon also adds a hint of flavor.    They keep well in an airtight container for up to a week, though the flavor of the chili and cinnamon mellows out the longer you store them.  

I made a few changes to mine - I used real Dark Cocoa instead of the normal, lighter baking cocoa, and doubled the amount of rolling sugar because I always end up running out about halfway through. I used the amount of chili powder in the original recipe, but would probably increase it next time since it does tend to fade pretty quickly as they sit.    The dough itself is a wet dough, so I'd recommend chilling it for 30 min or so if you have the time, though it's not necessary... you'll just end up with a bit more dough on your fingers after rolling them in the sugar.   


So whether you're celebrating your own  return-of-municipal-services, trying to warm up on a chilly day, or just feel like making something warm and chocolate, these little beauties will certainly fit the bill.   Or if your power is out, you can come over to my place and we'll make them together. 

I have blankets.
And cookies.
And sugar. 

Mexican Hot Chocolate Cookies

·         2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
·         1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
·         2 teaspoons cream of tartar
·         1 teaspoon baking soda
·         1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
·         1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
·         2 cups sugar
·         2 large eggs
·         4 teaspoons cinnamon
·         1 teaspoon chile powder (optional)

1.       Preheat oven to 400 degrees, with racks in upper and lower thirds. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powder, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt. In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down side of bowl. Add eggs and beat to combine. With mixer on low, gradually add flour mixture and beat until combined.
2.      In a small bowl, combine remaining 1/2 cup sugar, cinnamon, and chile powder (if using). Using heaping tablespoons, form balls of dough and roll in cinnamon-sugar mixture. Place, about 3 inches apart, on two parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake until cookies are set in center and begin to crack, about 10 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through. Let cookies cool on sheets on wire racks 5 minutes, then transfer cookies to racks to cool completely. (Store in an airtight container, up to 1 week.)

Redhead note:  Do not overbake!  You'll want to take the cookies out when they're slightly soft-set in the center, since they'll continue to cook as they cool on the cookie sheet.  For my oven that was at 8 minutes (mine runs hot.  Like me.  (Sorry, couldn't resist...)).    

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