Potato Chip Cookies

Yes, you read that title correctly. Today, we're going to be making potato chip cookies. 

This is an old recipe from my mother who (looking at her recipe card) got it from her friend Debbie.

Notice how Debbie didn't write down how many people this recipe serves? It's because there's a pound of butter in this recipe and (I'm speaking from experience here) you probably don't want to tell people that when you're sharing these cookies with them...especially if they're trying to be health conscious. 

But then again, you may not want to tell them the name of the cookie as well! 

Okay! For those of you who are still with me and want to try this recipe (hello? You're still there right? I hope I didn't scare you off with the pound of butter?), we'll start with four sticks of butter (softened)! 

To the butter you'll add 1 1/2 cups of sugar, then you'll need to cream those together with your mixer. 

After that, add 3 1/4 cups flour and 1 teaspoon of vanilla to your creamed butter and sugar. 

Once you've poured those in, use your mixer to combine all the ingredients and set them aside.

Now its the fun part: 

Licking the beaters!

Now it's time to grab a bag of potato chips!

Pour some of the chips in a ziplock bag and start crushing! You need 1 1/2 cups of crushed potato chips, so start with less then you think you need (because eating crushed chips is a sad thing). 

Use a wooden spoon if needed to really get the pieces small.

Once you have them all measured out, pour them into your cookie dough and stir them in!

Next, roll balls of dough with your hands or use a cookie scooper and set the cookie on an un-greased baking sheet (because these have enough butter in them already). 

Place them in the oven at 300 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the edges get golden brown.

Don't those just look yummy? Now, if you've never heard of potato chip cookies, I can see how someone would be a bit nervous to try one, but believe me: you don't taste the potato chip. It simply adds a crunch and a bit of saltiness to a sweet sugar cookie.

Yes, we could stop there.

But we're not going to.

Adding a little bit of powdered sugar is the icing on the cake!

Now for some unsuspecting parents to taste test!

Paul gave them a thumbs up and had no idea there were potato chips in the cookie till we told him.

Melissa loved every bite of hers until she heard how much butter was in them...then she promptly handed the rest of her cookie to Paul.

Sorry mom!

Next time I'll make...kale cookies.

Or something.

Even Xochie loved the cookies (but she loves junk food, so this wasn't a surprise). 

Well I hope I haven't scared you all off by making these! I promise they're super yummy. I do have something to admit though: Quinn and I did not make them all. In fact we only made one pan full. To make sure we can still fit into our clothes tomorrow (and for the sake of the rest of the family as well) we'll be taking the remainder of the cookie dough over to my parents house so that my siblings will eat all the cookies. 

We recommend sharing them with your friends and family too, otherwise you may find yourself sick having eaten a pound of butter (in the form of cookies).

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Potato Chip Cookies

     Taken from my mother's old recipe card (from her friend Debbie)

1 lb (or four sticks) of softened butter

1 1/2 cups sugar

3 1/4 cups flour

1 teaspoon vanilla 

1 1/2 cups crushed potato chips

powdered sugar (optional) 

In a large mixing bowl, cream sugar and butter together. Add in flour and vanilla, stir together. Pour in crushed potato chips and stir to combine. Roll into balls, set onto un-greased cookie sheet and put in oven at 300 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes, or until edges are light golden brown. Optional: sprinkle with powdered sugar.

A Day In The Life of Cedar & Xochie

Cedar: My morning starts out normal. 


If I am inside, I sit at the door to be let out. 

If I am outside, I sit at the door to be let in.






Xochie: My morning always starts out terrible. So I scream and shriek to make sure everyone wakes up and feels as miserable as I am.

Cedar: After eating some yummy breakfast from my bowl (very loudly I might add, so my friends know how much I love my food) I inspect the house to see where everyone is (in case they need me).



Xochie: After everyone is awake, I will mock them and say terrible things to them in my own language so they don't understand. 

But they know that I hate them. 

And that's all that matters.





Cedar: I ask to be let out again. 

I must inspect the outdoors for anything harmful to my friends.

If I don't find anything harmful, I will bark and bark at the corner of the yard to scare anything that MIGHT be out there.

My friends must stay safe.

Xochie: One of the despised people plays terrible music. I try to sing and yell above the sound so that I don't have to hear. 

Cedar: I love sticks. My favorite sticks are the big sticks that my friends chop up and leave just for me. I like to leave them all over the yard for them to pick up later.

Xochie: The despised humans start singing. Since I can't drown out the sound with my shrieking (I tried), I instead go to the bottom of my cage and tear up newspapers. It's my only coping mechanism. 

 Cedar: My nice friends give me lots of biscuits. I love biscuits. 

Sometimes I eat them right then, but sometimes I walk around the yard for a long time trying to figure out where to bury one. 

I love biscuits!





Xochie: It's too quiet in the house.

I must change that.

I ring my bells, scream loudly, and sing my own favorite songs.

(Happy Birthday, various songs in French)



Cedar: I do not trust the spotted dog upstairs. 

She never moves.

But I do like her fancy hat.

Xochie: I creep on Melissa and Emily. My most hated enemies. 

Cedar: I practice my balalaika.

My heart does not lie in my balalaika playing.

My heart lies in playing the jingle bells.

Xochie: I practice my mini-mandolin.

It is the one time of day I feel like myself.

Cedar: I run outside some more (with my stick).

Sometimes I take my friends on walks. But sometimes my friends are too lazy for walks...

Xochie: I am growing weary. I have no strength to bite the distasteful people as they carry me around and laugh at me.

Cedar: I end my day with a nice long stretch out in the sun.

Today was a good day.

Xochie: Today was a terrible day.

I was not successful in my attempts to kill Melissa or Emily. I shall try again tomorrow.

I despise this place. I must try to escape.

Also, the White Christmas poster is still up. It is February. No longer Christmas.

Take it down.

Puppet Show Memoirs:

Hello dear readers, I (Quinn) have hijacked the blog for a short time to give my wife a break. 

(This may be the only time, depending on how it turns out.)

Xochie was not excited with her role in the puppet show.

I would like to take you on a short stroll down memory lane if I may. 

Growing up my siblings and I were gifted with quite a large puppet collection. For both our entertainment and our parents. We found enjoyment in thinking we were quite witty with the shows we would put on. Mother and Father found entertainment in our inability to remember our lines and attempts to write newer and better ones upon the spot. 

As the years went by and the collection of puppets grew to astronomical proportions, our shows did get better as well as our acting. Sadly though, as the years have passed by the puppets have fallen by the way side. 

 Upon hearing countless stories about the puppets and our childhood, Emily decided it was time to stroll down memory lane once again. This of course meant that we would need to pull them all out of the storage room/the entryway to Emily and I's house. This was a task in and of itself which consisted of wading through a waist deep pile of very important things which found their way into our entryway. . . Climbing the shelving and holding on with skill worthy of a mountain climber and finally prying the bags from their niche in the dank darkness we rarely venture into. I was the one who found myself fending off impending collapse of the shelving unit and the ensuing avalanche of picture frames, boxes, puppets and books that would bury me alive. Emily was behind giving me all the moral support she could muster at the time. Once the puppets were removed from their lair I handed them to Emily with great care. She took the two bags and turned to leave. . . Imagine her surprise when there emerged a third and equally bursting bag of puppets. 

(Her comment to me went along the lines of us being spoiled children.) 

Every child needs a clam puppet!

All that was left to do was sort through said bags of puppets and decide which ones were Alaskan enough to star in our next production. 

Later that evening the curtain had been erected and we were all ready. Mom had suggested the production we were going to put on and we approved of it wholeheartedly. 

We hope you will enjoy our tireless efforts to bring you our rendition of
The Lonely Goatherd.