I Recommend... ("cookies + milk" edition)

So, I had me a sandwich for lunch a few days ago. And then, as I'm known to do from time to time, I decided to have some dessert. Just a little sweetness to cap off the meal. Previously, I had set out the remainder of the Vanilla frosting on the counter so that it would become pliable and room temperature--a cold tub of frosting is anathema to my gastronomic libido. I get out three Chips Ahoy White Chocolate Chunk cookies and place them on my favorite small white plate, about 7 inches across. Smear the frosting on the top of each cookie. (Some might say 'spread it along the bottom, allowing a more regular flow onto the flat surface.' I disagree, preferring the tricky terrain of the nobby chips and undulating cookie-peaks on the top. When you spread it along this less predictable surface area, several things happen: the nooks allow for small nuggets of frosting to be wedged into the cookie itself, causing a burst of vanilla-y goodness; also, if you cover the flat bottom in frosting, you have to place your cookies top-side down, and they might tip, thus coating your plate or carpeting or hard-wood floor in frosting, not your tongue. My point made, I move on, unimpeded.)

With cookies agreeably coated, you pour a couple inches of milk into a shallow cup/tumbler/mug. The amount of milk is dependant on you. Me, I like the milk for the dunking, only, so I usually didn't pour much more than was required. If you want to wash down the cookie with a leftover four ounces of milk, please do so. But here is where I come to the eureka moment... on this day in question, I did what I thought was egregious and foul. I overpoured. All that extra milk to be sucked down, by now lukewarm and beset with floating bits. So I dunked and fed on my frosted cookies, and they were as delicious as always, but an inch of milk remained. This is what I do. I place that glass of bottom-hugging milk back into the refridgerator. Three hours go by. Maybe four. I retrieve that glass of milk, sitting between the open jar of pasta sauce and a dish covered in foil that at one point might have held baked beans. The glass is frosty cool by now. I place it to my lips and throw it back like a shot. Ooooh. Hmm. This is good. This is different. This is CookieMilk.

Before, I had done this fine liquid a disservice by merely swilling it down right after all the dunking had been done. It had warmed, grown mealy, a feeble alternate to the proud tradition of bright white cow juice we as lactose-tolerant people have come to enjoy. But this time, in an accident smacking of Fate-capital-F, I chilled it in the fridge. The resultant beverage was a joy to consume. This was cocoa-infused milk, milk+dough, the hybrid love child of childhood itself. To all you cookie dunkers out there, I implore you: Pour a little more. Dunk away. Then save that clarified essence of youth, re-refridgerate, and drink like Santa after House #1. You'll be glad you did.*

*Edible Wrecks, MaybeIndecisive, or the attractive associates of Blogger.com are not responsible for any or all illnesses/disappointments that may or may not occur after consuming room-temperature milk, warm frosting, or cookies that are not Chips Ahoy. Please gorge responsibly.