Beetle-O's

I forget what began the conversation, but somehow or other we were in the car discussing crappy food and how we used to eat it in the good old days (aka dark ages) before the global hyper-awareness of processed food and chemicals, etc.

You know, when you could happily polish off an entire sleeve of Ritz crackers in one sitting and apart from the film that coated your mouth for the next three days and vague nausea, everything was groovy. You didn't have to do environmental penance for felled palm trees, nor go on a five day kale-cleanse to get rid of the partially hydrogenated sodium-infused death.

I'm not saying we were better off then. I'm just saying it was simpler. Unhealthier. But simpler.

ANYWAY. Listed alongside Ritz crackers were Milanos, Reddi-Whip, Pringles, and, surprisingly from Mum, Oreos. She's not really a chocolate person, so it was a bit of a shock to hear her mention them. I thought I was the only one scoffing them down in my grandmother's kitchen right before going to the beach, only to cramp spectacularly half an hour later on my surfboard and slowly drown in salt water and agony.*

*note: the best remedy for Oreo-induced stomach spasms, incidentally, happens to be fried clams. Medical research has yet to prove this conclusively, but I can give evidence in favour. Works like a charm.

I therefore offered to make said Oreos. Or, at least, a version of Oreos that were not flammable, could be used as flotation devices in case of shipwreck, and survive a nuclear holocaust. What I offered to make were chocolate cookie sandwiches with vanilla buttercream centres. What I offered to make, dear reader, were BEETLE-O's. 

BEETLE-O's
For the chocolate cookie part, I definitely needed something simple, chocolaty, and with the right amount of crunch. What would have been ideal would have been a chocolate version of the Butter Roll Out cookies I did for Christmas two weeks ago. However, Irma Rombauer, for the first time in history, didn't have what I was looking for. (I know, I was totally shocked too.) I toyed with the idea of making the cookies and just adding melted chocolate to the dough, but then I came across a Nigella recipe for Granny Boyd's Cookies. I had never made them before but always paused at the page and thought "some day soon." According to her, they would be dark, smoky, and chocolatey. And they were simple and easy and I realised the time had come.

BEETLE-O CHOCOLATE COOKIES
(doubled for this batch, incidentally)

• 2 sticks plus 2 tbs unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 7 tbs sugar
• 2 tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 cups all-purpose flour

Cream the butter and sugar together in a mixmaster until pale and fluffy. Sift the cocoa powder and flour together and add to the mixture, beating until well combined.

The dough is crumbly, not wet. But it does come together when you start working it with your hands. 

Form balls, according to Nigella, "about the size of a walnut" and space them evenly out on baking sheets. She says use a fork to flatten them out, to give them their characteristic ridging on top. I, having recently discovered a beautiful jelly spoon of my great-grandmother's the day before, decided to get all fancypants and use that instead. 

The spoon in question. Thank you, Great Grandmamma Georgiana.

BEHOLD.

Jelly spoons = Useless for eating applesauce.

Jelly Spoons = Really awesome for cookie printing.

Bake them at 350 degrees for 5 minutes, then reduce the oven to 300 degrees and bake for another 10-15. I took them out right at 10, and they seemed firm and done.

You can tell the dough was crumbly from the fact that the edges have gone all shortbread-y.
They crack when you flatten them. 

So. Cookies were done. You know what's coming next. 

Exactly. 

I used the Vanilla Buttercream that is on the side of the Domino Confectioner's Sugar Box. Why? Because it's the best damn Vanilla Buttercream recipe in existence. That's why.

THE DOMINO SUGAR VANILLA BUTTERCREAM RECIPE

• 3 3/4 cups confectioner's sugar
• 1 stick butter, softened
• 3-4 tbs milk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Mixmaster. Done. 

Why mess with the best? 

And now, dear reader, came the fun part. THE SANDWICH MAKING PART. 

I suppose, of course, if your tastes tend towards the more frugal, you can just top a single cookie with buttercream and have done with it. 

But then you wouldn't get to do this.

Or this. 

Or this. 

And really, that's kind of the point.

FINAL BEETLE NOTE

I do have to say that despite Nigella's promises that the cookies would be dark and smoky, I would have liked them to come out a bit more chocolatey. Perhaps I should have added more cocoa powder? Or thrown some melted bittersweet into the mix? I don't know. It's just that in general, she is so good at decadent, gluttonous-to-the-point-of-embarrassment recipes that I just assumed these would be super chocolate. When I make Beetle-O's again (because believe me, dear reader, there WILL be a next time) I'll either tweak this recipe, or find a dark chocolate wafer one somewhere and use that instead. 

Domino Sugar Vanilla Buttercream, on the other hand, proves itself once again. 

Hey, Domino. You'll always be MY sugar. 

So. From this: 

To this: 

I'm not saying they taste better. There is something about that chemical afterburn that even I appreciate, and you will not get that scary-yet-glorious jittery sugar high from these. But they are rather fetching, if I do say so myself, and at least after eating them you don't have to go work in a lemur-sanctuary in Uruguay for five years and eat nothing but lemon-ginger water until Valentine's Day. 

Which. Trade off.