Rick (aka: the husband) likes thin and chewy oatmeal cookies and the only ones I know how to make are too fluffy for him.  Truth game:  My oatmeal cookies are thin and crisp.  The husband is obviously smoking the wacky weed.  

Because I am a good wife I try to find recipes that will make my man happy.  I snorted at this and then realized that this was how I found the recipe below and I need to shut my piehole because it appears that I have some kind of Stepford situation going on.  Or, it could be that I’m just a considerate and kind person (shut-up, it could happen).

I googled around and found this recipe.  I tried it based solely on the photo of the finished product that was on the site.  Oatmeal Lace – there’s no way to lose.  Those fuckers have got to be thin enough for the husband.

This is not your one bowl type of cookie, but it’s not hard to make either.  I just measured out my dry ingredients so that I was ready for the whole shebang to happen.

Here’s a really bad picture of the dry ingredients.  Seems like old times, no?

Waldo helped out by laying in the middle of the kitchen floor for his nap.

The butter and brown sugar goes in a saucepan and after the mixture has been cooked smooth, you add the rest of the ingredients. It reminds me of making no-bake cookies except you bake these. No shit, Nance.

I scooped them on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. If you don’t have a cookie scoop you’re not really happy. I went years without one then one day I broke down and got one. I will never make another cookie without it. It’s that nice. But I cringe every time I use parchment paper because it cost real money and I’m just going to throw it away. Robyn uses fancypants parchment paper sheets. I don’t know why I care because I sure as hell don’t mind rolling the hell out of the aluminum foil. Maybe I’m a tree-hugger and just don’t know it.  Maybe I secretly hate metal.  Maybe I’m just a nutbag with issues about particular things.  I think the last one is it.  

Then I baked them until they were golden brown.  I showed my filthy oven because I want Amanda to appreciate the fact that I cook like a degenerate.  Some of us are not as precious as she surely is.  Sigh.

This is what I ended up with. My mom (Shirley) and I did not like them. Rick loved them. Too bad he’s never getting them again because I sure as hell am not making something I don’t like.  I have no idea if you’ll like them or not.

Try this recipe at your own risk.