Have you ever spent a hearty sum of money on something… and then didn’t want to use it because it was so expensive?

I sometimes feel that way about my couch.  Ok… I didn’t spend a ton of money on my couch… but, well… it felt like a lot of money at the time.  As a result, I feel like the couch must be treated with the proper respect.  God forbid someone should try and jump on it.  Heck..  if someone sits down on it too hard (is that really even possible) I look at them sideways.

And don’t even get me started on the cat.  He has nooooo respect.  Probably because he has noooo concept of what money is.

My couch isn’t fancy.  But… I feel like the very fact that I have a couch puts me on the fancier side of fancy.  I spent a lot of years without a couch.

Don’t sit down to hard on my couch… that’s all I ask.  Oh!  and if you’re going to park your rear end for a prolonged amount of time, please rotate seat spots.  You’re mushing my cushions.  Nevermind that it’s a couch made for sitting and mushing.  I’m unreasonable.  I know.  I truly am.

I feel like these cookies echo my fancy couch sentiments.

See… they have fancy ingredients in them.  Cocoa nibs and vanilla beans deserve some respect.  When these two ingredients meet in a cookie, the cookie should be held in the highest esteem… even if it’s just a light, puff-of-air meringue.

Treating yourself is important.  Treating yourself to a couch, and then acting unreasonably about its use might be silly.  But splurging of some crunchy cocoa nibs and baking them into cookies is a slightly easier treat.  And your cat won’t scratch cocoa nibs.

These meringues were inspired by Tartine Bakery in San Francisco.  Tartine is one of the best bakeries in the land.  They’re people that do things right.  It is a dream.  Tartine has cocoa nib studded meringues that are perfect.  You’ll want to order two… and you should… but you’ll probably only be able to eat one.  Trust me.

Meringues require eggs.  The brown yolk-y kind… not necessarily the wood or marble type, even though they’re pretty.

These cookies are so simple… but they have some really lovely splurge ingredients in them .

Cocoa Nibs add a crunchy, chocolate and coffee flavor.  Vanilla Beans add that beautifully irresistible fragrance.

They’re special baking items… and totally worth the splurge.

I always want to swim in glossy, unbaked meringue.  It’s like thick marshmallow cream.

Easily dollop with a big soup spoon.  Keep it easy in the kitchen.

The parchment paper is a complete must.  Parchment paper might seem like another splurge item… but it’s important.  It’s not like foil.  It’s only like parchment paper.  There is no substitute.

Take a bite while the cookies are still on the baking sheet.

You know why?  Because you’re grown.  You made grown cookies.  There’s no butter in them.  And you you you are living a good life.  Bite!

Eat off the baking tray… but please don’t forget to make things beautiful.  Beautiful things always make me feel better.  And!  Since we’ve splurged on such lovely ingredients… we really should take out a pretty plate and brew a nice pot of coffee.

These cookies are light but crunchy.  The centers are simultaneously hallow and chewy.  They are a combination of delicate and rustic.  Have them with hot coffee, red wine, or in bed with a glass of cold orange juice.  It’s your world… and it’s a beautiful one.

Dear The French Laundry,

How did a humble baker girl like me end up at a fine establishment such as yours?  Seriously.  Breathtaking.  How did this happen?

Ok… truth be told, my friend Tracy extended a last minute invite, I basically ran to my car in my slippers, a dress on a hanger flying behind me, and I sped from Los Angeles to Yountville in a cool 7 hours.  I forgot my lipstick.  Thank you for not judging.

Is it The French Laundry, or can I just call you French Laundry?

We’re on a first name basis, right?  Good.  Thank you.

French Laundry.  You are Fancy.  Capital F, Fancy.

… I can tell by the generous amount of gorgeous Thomas Keller flatware, delicious amount of caviar, and generous amount of champagne.

You brought me this tiny pearled spoon scoop and I thought about accidentally putting it in my purse for 3.45 seconds.  It’s a good thing I remembered that I don’t steal things.  I love that little scooper.  Well played.

You have salts from all over the world.  One of these is from the deep ocean, one of them is a French grey salt, one of them is a 40 million year old salt from Montana.  Wait… did you say 40 million years old?  Is Montana even that old?  I believe you.. mostly because you serve your salt in a swan.

I’m humbled by your salt choices.  Truly.  So delicious.  So delicate.  Refined.  So much refinement.

French Laundry, your Cold Corn Soup almost made me cry.  You brought giant truffles out in a dehumidified box.  Whoah!  You served me Lobster Mitts…. I didn’t even know that was a thing!  Lamb with pine nut vinaigrette?  I love you.  Every bite was entirely humbling.  I mean that most sincerely.

You did a thing to me… I think it was called Caramelia Chocolate “Cremeux”.  Don’t judge me for only being able to pronounce one of those words correctly.

Chocolate mousse, caramel corn, Georgia peanuts, ridiculous banana puree, and and and and Salted Popcorn Ice Cream.  It was the best dessert to ever happen to my mouth.  I thank you.  My heart thanks you.

The thing is, French Laundry… the thing is this:  you’re fancy… to be sure…  but you and your staff have a way about you.  You somehow make ultra fine dining feel like an intimate home dining experience.  You make the most delicious, perfectly executed food taste like mind blowing home cooking.  I mean  that with the most respect possible.

Your food tastes like community.  It tastes like love and pride.  It taste like dedication, education, and attention.  It tastes like knowledge and technique… and it tastes like you love your grandmothers.  It is everything that is good, brought to its highest potential.  Inspired.  I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know… but you blew my mind.

Would now be a good time to mention that we wrote ‘booyakah’ in your guestbook?

Yea… that happened.

Oh!  We also took a picture outside in the dark.  Tracy was holding her lightsaber.  Totally normal.  Nevermind.

Thank you, French Laundry.  That sounds trite, but I mean it from deep down inside.

Love,

Joy

Ps. Please don’t show your pastry chef these cookies.  Seriously.  They’re no biggie.  Like… seriously.

Sigh.

Back to real life.

Back to my boring old cookies.

Light, crisp, and delicious meringues.

Egg whites are whipped with granulated sugar, salt, and lemon juice until they’re stiff and glossy.

Then we fold in ground, toasted almonds, and cornstarch.

Humble… but I like where this is going!

It’s like nutty marshmallow fluff!

I’m into it.

These cookies can either be piped or spooned onto the cookie sheet.

Keep them close on the baking sheet because they don’t spread.  Easy!

Top with powdered sugar and sliced almonds.  Generous.  We like generosity.

These cookies were a gift to Tracy, to say thanks for French Laundry invite.

Packaging is key when you’re dealing with Tracy, so I tried to keep it cute.

Oh!  And I had to write a note… even if it got awkward. Note paper from Anthropologie.

What are you up to on this fine Sunday?

Holiday shopping?  Holiday partying?  Trying to find a pair of pantyhose without a run in them?  Yea… me too.

I thought I’d pop in and remind you of these little peppermint gems.  They’re light.  They’re beautiful and festive.  You can put them in the oven and just about forget about them while they bake…. and yes, they look a little bit like Colgate toothpaste.  

Peppermint Meringues.  Because you can.  Because you should.

Dear Spring,

You’re a great season.  In fact, you’re my favorite season of all.  Something about the orange blossoms dotting my neighborhood, and the barely warm evening sun just makes me want to squeeze you with gratitude.

Great job with all the tulips.  Excellent work with all the sweet peas.  Don’t even get me started on the asparagus…. wow!

There’s just a few things I thought you might consider… just in the interest of being the best season ever, and kicking every other season right in the backside.

First, your color palette.  Have you ever considered switching it up?  All the pastels remind me of bad baby shower party games.  Plus, you’re edgier than that Spring.  Show those other seasons what’s what.  Have you considered a fresh neon palate?  It might work wonders for your image.

Second,  can you please work on making purple the new grey this season?

Lastly,  every year when you come to town, I end up in the candy aisle at the grocery store buying giant bags of chocolate egg-shaped candies.  After I’ve mistakenly make these chocolate goodies a meal, I’m forced the throw the remainder in the trash and pour dish soap on them, keeping myself from sleep-eating them in the middle of the night.  While this may seem like more of a personal issue, your attention to this matter would still be much appreciated.

Also Spring, I made you meringues.

Stay Sweet,

Joy the Baker

Meringues are a super easy way to show Spring that you’re glad it’s come to town… or you could write Spring a letter like I did.

With only three egg whites, a bit of granulated sugar and some flavoring, you’ll be able to make a sheet full of three different types of tiny meringues:  chocolate, vanilla and raspberry. All you’ll need now is some small, clear gift bags, some pretty ribbon and you’ll have precious Easter gifts on lock-down.  Sweet, right!?

This recipe makes vanilla meringues with a dash of vanilla extract, chocolate meringues with unsweetened cocoa powder, and raspberry meringues with dehydrated raspberry powder (made from freeze dried and super ground raspberries).  Feel free to play around with almond or coffee meringues using extracts too!

There are some things in the world that make me feel like an adult. Most of the time my brain likes to idle in the fact that I’m somewhere between ten and twelve years old. When I thought I was pretty cool. When I thought I had a pretty good handle on things. Before the painfully awkward Blossom hats and frizzy hair set in.

Something has happened though. Time I suppose. I’ve turned around and been hit square in the face with what feels like adult things.

Um… retirement plan? Yea… I have one. It’s totally weird.

Going to the airport by myself? Um… hello!? I need an adult to carry my boarding pass and my ID and to make sure I have matching socks on! Oh… I am the adult. Seriously?

Shoe shopping. No one is there to pinch the edge of my shoe and make sure I have enough toe room. How am I supposed to know if they fit!? I can’t very well pinch my own shoes!

And then there are things that show me that maybe I’m not so adult after all.

My Mom still nags me to write holiday and birthday thank you notes.

I love hot chocolate with marshmallows. I mean seriously. Come on! That’s some good stuff.

And these Peppermint Meringues remind me of the soft after dinner mints that I used to horde from my favorite Italian restaurant growing up. Do you know the mints I’m talking about? The somewhat chalky, melt in your mouth, white mints? I’m still a sucker for those things. I may have eaten them for dinner a few weeks back. Don’t judge me.

These Peppermint Meringues have just enough bite, just enough give, just enough sweetness and just enough mint to remind me of those gorgeous mints of my childhood. In turn, that minty feeling works to negate the blinding reality of being an adult with a retirement plan, because that just makes me feel like a big weirdo. No offense to those who have, or want, weirdo retirement plans. I mean no harm.

Oh! I’ve been on a cookie kick lately. I made some deliciously buttery Cherry Jam Cookies too!

I’ve decided to have a very quiet and still weekend.

Today- more pictures than words.

I hope you all find a piece of peace this weekend.

These unassuming, simple and delicious meringues might be just your ticket to bliss.